Second Lust

There was a pause, and she typed, "your turn."

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Is your real name Angel?" I asked, making symmetries.

I was curious how far his own deception would go. Would he admit he was a 40 year old man to me, if it came to that? A 40 year old man pretending to be a gothic Lolita? And then what, if he did? And what if he didn't? What if he made up his own alter ego? I couldn't really hold the deception against him - not when I was doing the same thing.

"No, it's not." But she didn't volunteer anything. No, obviously, one wouldn't, not in a game of truth or dare. "Truth or dare?" she asked immediately.

"Truth," I said again.

"Have you ever played truth or dare IRL? When was it and who with?"

I had already basically decided, at this early point, to let my fantasies do my answering, so, quite untruthfully, I answered, "yes." And improvised, based on an erotic story I'd read a few months back: "Well, not exactly IRL - it was online - via chat, not in SL, about a year ago. With a woman I met online. It was quite fun, though"

A pause, and before I could ask, she selected, "truth."

"Um..." I typed, to let her know I was thinking. I didn't want to ask the same question, though I wanted to hear the answer. I wanted to show I had an imagination. Finally, "What's the craziest dare you've done, inside SL?" Partly, I was still a little puzzled as to what those dares might be.

Her answer: "I was dared to find a male newbie and take him to a sex club."

"Wow. I've never been to one of those, yet," I lied. I had... though just to look around, voyeur-wise - I hadn't done anything there except watch various avatars engaged in cartoony, stylized sex acts.

"It's not really my thing, either," she said, unconvincingly, and justified, "it was a dare, though. I had to."

"LOL," I typed. Then, seeing how the game went, now, I said, "truth."

There was a pause, and finally, "In the game you played with the woman last year, what was the wildest dare you did?"

I thought for a minute. Remembering I was playing this from the male perspective. Thinking about the story I'd read that I'd had in mind when I gave my last answer. And then, thinking also of a few other stories in the same vein. One, in particular, seemed relevant, so I adeptly adapted the plot in my mind (in case there were follow-up questions), and made it true.

"Uh, it's kind of x-rated," I warned.

"LOL that's OK," she encouraged. "Mine was too, you just didn't get the details."

"Hmm yes. I was dared to go naked into the living room of my house and masturbate."

"I see." Was she disappointed?

So I volunteered, out of sheer perversity, "I wasn't home alone. It was late at night but I might have been caught."

Of course, this led her to ask, "who was there?"

"My daughter was asleep upstairs."

Now, I should explain at this point, about the whole incest theme - I'm sure you're wondering. Yes, I'd read stories with those sorts of themes - and I even had a specific one in mind, that my made-up "truth" was referencing.

But although I'd found such stories to be exciting at some level, I'd honestly never extended the thinking to my actual family - and if I had, I probably would have fantasized about my brother, not my dad - the brother-sister ones were the stories that, up to that point, interested me more. Or even the sister-sister ones. The story I was referencing was about a brother who masturbates in the living room on a dare and gets caught by his sister, but I'd already decided that in my role as Karl, I was older, so it made sense to make it a daughter upstairs, rather than a sister.

"Risky," she sympathized.

Would she ask me if I'd been caught? If she did, would I adapt that part of the story, too, or was that going too far, too soon? This was so strange... and I was feeling erotically charged as I never had before - at least, never before when alone in front of a computer. For the first time in my life, the appeal of "cyber" became clear to me.

Sure enough, "so, can I ask... did you get caught?"

"Uh, no." My courage gave out, I dropped the fantasy. Maybe later, I reassured myself - this was still only the first meeting. Somehow, I was already thinking that way - a first meeting. Meaning... there would be others.

"That's a relief," she said, and the avatar threw her head back in laughter. Then, "truth."

I had just told myself, I didn't want to force the issue, but I found myself typing, "what's your real name?"

"You might be disappointed," she answered.

"How so?" I asked, my stomach dropping. Was dad going to be truthful with me? That would complicate things further - how could I justify this deception if he came clean?

"Well, you realize of course that one's SL avatar is not necessarily anything like what one is like in real life..."

I was perhaps curt, in my disappointment, not to mention hypocritical, as I realized dad was going to tell the truth. I typed, "oh. Are you trying to say you're actually a guy?"

"LOL, I see you're not naive about SL," he answered quickly.

"Nope. No big deal - I'm open-minded." That, at least, was the truth, though now guilt was pulsing through my mind uncomfortably. "So... what's your name?"

"Well, actually, it's Carl."

"OMG that's hilarious," I feigned. At the coincidence - Karl and Carl, you know. "Well, you have a very cute avatar," I added.

"Thanks. She's my pride and joy."

"LOL," I typed, but found myself experiencing a profoundly disturbing and completely unexpected emotion - jealousy. Daughter-jealousy. My father had created an avatar, obviously modeled on me (at some level, anyway), and was here describing her as his "pride and joy." What about ME, daddy, I wanted to whine, like a little girl.

And then, my mind spun on further. He could make his avatar-daughter do whatever he wished. He had her doing sexual dares, and flashing strangers. Which somehow, were exactly the sorts of fantasies I nurtured in my own secret soul. My god, did he harbor such fantasies about me? Did I find such a notion disgusting, or erotic? Or, damnit, both? Crap.

I dared to ask, "is she modeled on someone you know?" Would he tell the truth?

"Hmm," he answered, to show he was thinking. Then, "loosely, on my daughter, I confess," he said.

I suppose, in SL, with its layers of anonymity, it actually might be easier for some people to tell the truth. Perhaps, in different circumstances, I might have told the truth, but I was already enmeshed in a web of deception that I didn't dare allow to break down.

I wondered if perhaps his frankness with me was in part due to the hint I'd dropped just shortly before that my alter ego Karl had intentionally placed himself in a situation where he might have been caught by his own daughter, masturbating. It showed I was willing to consider such possibilities. Hmm.

So, I pondered. How would a male react, to that confession? A male with a daughter of his own? I had to hypothesize, but the result came off both crude and sanctimonious, I thought. Not to mention, it rather accelerated the whole thing, uncomfortably. "So, does that mean your daughter go around without panties on, flashing strangers?"

"OMG you noticed! Cute, huh?"

"Mm yes," I said, with what I hoped was the right sort of male wolfishness.

"Well, no - not that I know of, anyway," he said.

"I guess SL is a place to act out fantasies," I prompted. I wanted to make him admit it.

"Exactly," he agreed, all-too-enthusiastically. The truth or dare game was, for the moment, apparently forgotten. "Tell me you weren't imagining getting caught by your daughter, when you did that dare you described earlier." Gotcha!

"Uhmm," I typed, to buy some time. Crap, that had been the back story, hadn't it? Now I didn't feel very clean, pursuing it. Not after my dad had admitted to fantasies about his daughter. About me.

"I suppose I was," I falsely confessed. Would he make me elaborate? Why was my imagination taking this in so many horrible, disgusting, totally horny-making directions? To defend myself, I took the offensive. "So your daughter's never flashed you or anything?"

"Not on purpose, I don't think," he answered.

"But?" I prompted.

"A few years back, I saw something unexpected," he explained. My heart was beating very fast.

"What?"

"She'd come out of the shower wrapped in a towel. She was going up the stairs."

I couldn't recall an incident. But I know that more than once, I'd climbed the stairs at my father's place wrapped in a towel... there was no bathroom on the loft-like second level, but that's where the guest rooms were that my brother and I used when visiting. I didn't think there was anywhere one could stand that would allow anything to be visible, looking up the stairs. But obviously I was wrong. I was afraid to ask for details, but the idea that my father had seen my naked pussy up my towel as I went up the stairs was freakishly arousing. Why had none of this ever crossed my mind before? What was wrong with me, now?

"I see," I finally answered, nonchalantly.

It was to be expected that he'd flip the question back at me - I mean, as long as we're talking about sexy daughters and all that, between us guys, right? "Have you ever caught your daughter at anything like that?"

I had read plenty of stories. About daughters and fathers, nieces and uncles, mothers and sons, sisters and brothers, women and strangers. No shortage of material. But I had to make it plausible, I thought. And suddenly I very much wanted to tell as sexy a little anecdote as I could come up with. I loved making up stories, anyway. I improvised.

"Actually, a few times." I wanted to leave room for more imaginary anecdotes, later, of course. There were already several coursing through my brain. I chose the mildest.

"Once, it was quite late, and I was up watching tv, and she came down in her long t-shirt and panties, you know the kind girls wear to bed. And she joined me watching tv, saying she couldn't sleep. And the movie I was watching was a romantic comedy or something, I'd seen it before and had been channel surfing when she came in, but she was clearly enjoying it so I left it on. She was braless under the thin material of her top, and when the scene in the movie got sexy, I literally got to watch her nipples harden. I don't think she was aware."

Not a bad bit of improvisation, I thought, though this retelling may have improved the style and continuity somewhat.

Angel (Carl) (dad) said, "wow, cool."

Before he could ask for another anecdote, I asked, quite explicitly (throwing timidity to the wind, I guess), "have you ever seen your daughter's nipples?"

"Hmm... A few times, through a top on a cold afternoon or something. But, not really - not like what you describe. "

God, was I disappointed? And I looked down at my own front, my own modest tits, now braless under my unsexy pink pajama shirt, and saw how rigid and huge my nipples looked through the cloth. Wow. And my mind took off in yet another unwonted (and unwanted) direction, as I found myself thinking, well, I'll have to remedy that!

Was I suddenly contemplating flashing my dad, on purpose? Was I going to have to admit to myself that I found the idea that he had fantasies about his daughter a turn on?

I felt shame and arousal burning up my whole skin. Impulsively, for the moment frightened by the momentum of the situation, I typed, "hey listen I've got to run. can I talk to you later?"

Then, before he could even answer, I logged off. Sudden departures weren't uncommon in SL - there were technical issues, and the fact was that many players were multitasking, and would often get pulled away to other tasks.

I sat and stared at the screen of my computer, blankly, having just experienced the most intense, erotically charged, guilt-inducing, profoundly self-embarrassing hour of my life. I didn't even make it to bed, before I'd fingered myself through two sequential, extremely powerful orgasms. And the visual I'd conjured into my head, as I was consumed by the second of these orgasms, was a fantasy of me watching my father, seated at his computer, masturbating furiously (I knew what it looked like, when guys do it, I'd seen my Brandon do it, and it had always been a turn on for me), as he contemplated his own fantasies, which, in my fantasy, were fantasies about me, watching him. I fell asleep, feeling extremely guilty.