Temptation's Consequence

Her expression was a double-dog dare and a smirk.

I pulled my cock back out just as slowly, letting her secretions, her scent, taste, and film coat every fiber of it. Once the head had popped out, I put my hands on her ass and I kneaded both cheeks. I let my thumbs lift each rock hard buttock and then I forced her onto her stomach.

With her ass in front of me, I leaned forward and spit at the crack of it. I could smell it's sweat and it's use. I touched the tip of my heavy hitter to the spittle that covered her anus. She lifted her hips to meet me and encourage me.

"Don't be afraid, daddy," Yvette whispered. "It's tastedbigger than you. Stretch it for me, daddy. Open up my little brown kisser."

I realized that Angela and I had never performed anal sex. I realized I had never done anal sex with anyone. I had always been a little opposed to it because I didn't fancy the idea of shit near the tip of my cock. But now I wanted it.

I wanted to be stained by Yvette.

I wanted some sort of mark or stench. It had to be something that would identify me as hers.

I met with a pinch of resistance. It wasn't as easy as slipping into a pussy. I grabbed my shaft with one hand and tried to stretch my baby's asshole with the other. She looked over her shoulder at me to monitor my progress.

"That's it," she trembled, "just push it in, daddy. Just say no!" She giggled.

I nudged myself into the rim. I felt my daughter's shit slot open up and stretch around the head of my cock. The pressure was so intense that I almost let go of my semen.

"Shhh," Yvette cooed. "Keep it, daddy. I want it stretched out! If you come now, I'll never forgive you."

I thought that was an odd thing for her to say. It implied she was capable of forgiveness. It must have been a joke. I nudged myself deeper into her and Yvette arched her back as I went deeper into her ass.

She also panted like she was doing weight training. Pools of sweat had formed on her back and her black hair was getting damp from our sexual intensity. Her sphincter stretched out, just like she said it would. It felt so snug in there as I continued to penetrate my daughters, sweet, amazing ass.

"Like that better than tasting it, daddy?"

"Yeah," I grunted.

"Fag."

I grunted down at her and she groaned.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck!" Yvette suddenly shouted. "Desk drawer, bitch. Open my desk drawer! Jesus Christ!"

I reached over to the nearest drawer and opened it. Inside she had an outrageously huge purple dildo. It was definitely bigger than I was. She snapped her fingers at me. I hurriedly handed it to her and she raised her hips beneath me.

Yvette settled the dildo into her pussy and I could feel its hard length pushing against my cock as she filled herself. As she stroked the dildo back out, I tried to match her action and withdraw at the same rate.

She giggled beneath me and teased, "Oh, you think so?"

She then slammed the dildo back into her and out again. Her speed was intense. I could feel her using her wrist to twist the latex and smear her clit on each downward stroke. I read her challenge and tried to match her speed with my own fucking.

I slammed into my daughter's ass as she fucked herself with the toy. I could feel my chest heave as the pressure of her asshole gave into my ripper completely. She was groaning and moaning beneath me, lost in her own plateau of mounting pleasure. On each downward thrust, I could feel my balls clench tighter and tighter.

This sort of rate I couldn't keep up and I knew I didn't want to come in her ass.

That's what my daughter's pussy was for.

I reached between her open legs and found her hand with the dildo. I grabbed her wrist and pulled the dildo out of her pussy.

"Goddammit!" Yvette shouted.

I slipped out of her ass and into her pussy.

She bucked her hips up and slammed her rock-hard ass cheeks into my lower belly. The force of the up-thrust gave me a sharp pain beneath the skin. She then dropped her hips and scrambled away from my wet cock.

As my cock bobbed in the air, she flipped herself over and flicked her bangs away from her eyes. "Youdumb son of a bitch," my daughter panted. "Do you know how fucking close I was? Do youeven know!?"

My mouth opened but I had nothing to say.

She crawled over to me and raised the dildo to my face. "Get on your back." When I hesitated, she smacked my nose with the purple-colored purchase.

I leaned away from the dildo and laid back.

She lifted both of her tan thighs over me and she offered the dildo to her pussy again. I knocked the dildo out of her hand and it bounced over to the sliding closet door.

Yvette's expression was total hatred for me and I took that beat to thrust up into her cum catcher again. Her jaw dropped open to the sensation and she bounced on my fuck-hard pussy pleaser. Her eyes registered her lack of amusement. She looked bitter at the prospect of losing her toy, but I didn't care.

I grabbed her tits. I was careful to not touch her bandage. I grabbed loosely at her hickies and treated them like fingerprints. She didn't react nor encourage this choice. She just looked at the wall as if she wondered what day it was. She kept her pussy churning her amazing hips, but she was channel surfing in her mind.

Her gushing pussy still felt amazing. Her familiar walls squeezed and released me in a way she only could. Even on autopilot, my baby girl knew how to coax a cock.

I could feel my cock lurch inside of her folds. She didn't cause me to spill, she caused me toexplode inside of her. I was coming in my daughter again and I couldn't have been more pleased about it. I couldn't stop myself. I slapped my hands into her hips and slammed her down hard. She kept gyrating her greedy pussy over my rock solid dick as it shot a hot load up inside of her.

Yvette's mouth dropped open in amusement as she continued to grind me, "Oh?! Is that it!? Oh you're doin' it!? That'sall you got!? Did youpop, daddy!? Did your slut daughterget that baby snot!? Did she!? Oh, Ithink she did! Jesus Christ,bitch out much!?" She mocked me by changing her voice around, acting like multiple characters. She slammed closed fists into my chest hard over and over. I grabbed her wrists and held her fists away as I continued to spill my sticky jism all over her dripping, burning folds.

I jerked beneath her and she struggled with my grip on her wrists.

"Oh, look at Kyle Baron, can't even handle alittle bit of pussy anymore. Hey, you're like the kids I fucked in school! They werealways popping in me, popping on magazines, popping at billboards. Such a sniveling, sad,pathetic teenie bopper. You might as well be giggling at dirty words in a dictionary, you little bitch."

I could feel my cock dwindle as she continued to berate me.

"And you'reso gay too! I spent the whole time on top of you talking about cock, daddy. You like cock?"

I let go of her wrists, exhausted by my orgasm.

"No." I said up to her.

"But you likefucking ass." She brought her shoulders up in a mocking, empty-handed shrug.

"That's not gay--" I protested.

"Keep telling yourself that." She said and pinched my cheek.

She sighed above me and rubbed her pussy against my loosening cock. "C'mon, put all the fuck butter in! Try and measure up to myreal boys. Know what? I think their seed isbeating the shit out of yourweak sauce."

I sighed beneath her as my shrinking cock complied. She swiveled her hips and, in one calculated motion, her pussy smeared my cock out of her completely.

Yvette raised herself off of me. She stood up and smirked down at me.

My softening cock head touched the carpet.

I watched my daughter reach down between her legs and jab three fingers inside of her slot. She glared down at me and spat; "you'll never get me off again, will you, Kyle? Whatever, right? Good thing I can fuck anybody in the world. If I had to rely on you, I'd be a dumb bitch just like mom."

She brought her fingers out of herself and looked down at me. My white semen coated her fingers. She whipped her wrist and flicked webs of our juices down at my face.

"Disgusting old man."

"Sorry you didn't get off." I said, wiping my cheek with the back of my wrist.

"Don't worry, I will," she growled down at me.

I knew she wanted a cigarette so I grabbed her pack from the desk and held it up to her. My daughter put her hands on her hips and waited patiently for me to serve her. I stood up in front of her, removed a cigarette and held it out to her. She opened her mouth and I set it there for her. I lit it for her and replaced her lighter on the desk.

The smoke drifted between us and she only blinked at me silently. I wondered what was going through her mind.

She deposited her suckled breasts back into her a-shirt.

"Yvette?" I said to her. "Can't we stop this? I want to stop this."

"We've already been down this road, Kyle. Haven't we?"

"I want to help you."

"We'll see," she said dismissively. I had no idea what that meant. Before I could follow up on that remark, she repeated it. "Yeah. We'll see."

She blew smoke at the floor and grabbed a pair of black slacks from the top of her bed. I recognized them as the part of the suit she'd worn to my job the day she fucked Zachary. She held the cigarette with her lips and dressed. She put the suit jacket on and glowered over at me.

Her look suddenly softened. She reached out to my face and gave it a light stroke.

"Kyle?" Her expression was the sort she might have given to a lost cat so many years ago. I couldn't tell if it was sincere or not. She smeared my hair with her hand and blew smoke toward the ceiling. She went to speak, but I could see that she opted to change her mind and just give me another order.

"Hand me my sunglasses," Yvette said.

I reached toward her desktop and handed her the sunglasses. She took them.

"Where are you going?"

"Don't worry. I'll be back."

Her tone carried a darkness that filled the room with a sickening gravity. She reached to her desktop and handed me a really tiny key.

"What's this?"

"Yvette!" I heard a voice call out from downstairs. It was a male voice.

"Rhymes with 'closet'," Yvette narrowed her eyes at me and patted my cheek.

She then headed for her bedroom door.

I looked to my daughter's closet doors. They were plain white doors that slid on tracks. One of them wasn't completely closed. It occurred to me that I hadn't destroyed the evidence of my affair with Anne Marie. I wondered what had happened to those pictures.

As I approached the closet with my naked dork swinging, I thought my daughter had hidden the evidence for me. That shade of optimism vanished when I thought back to the last day or so of our relationship.

The last thing Yvette would want for me would be something good.

I slid the closet door open and I felt the pit of my stomach fall. My throat was instantly dry. My eyes went wide and pleaded that I was in the midst of some terrible nightmare.

The little key fell from my fingers.

Angela was in the closet.

She was in a chair. The chair was leaned against the wall. Her right cheek was flat against the wall there. Her mouth was covered with one of those S&M balls I'd only ever seen in the movies. Her hands were behind her back.

My wife hadseen everything that had happened between my daughter and me.

Tears were running down her face as she sobbed silently behind her gag.

My temper skipped to the end of book. I was goingto kill my daughter. The urgency that flooded my feet was without precedent. The scream of hatred that leapt from my throat bounced off of every wall in my miserable home.

My footing found me at the top of the stairs and I stopped.

Yvette stood below me at the front door and she had a few friends with her. There were seven very able-bodied men around her. I didn't recognize any of them. Some were dressed casually. A couple of them were dressed in suits.

The bitch had brought protection!

I gripped the railing and looked down at her.

Yvette pulled her black sunglasses down and looked up at me over the frames. If this was victory, nothing about her expression was celebrating. That was the grimmest I had ever seen her. Smoke drifted from her lips and she dropped her cigarette to the floor.

She smashed the cigarette out with her shoe.

One of her people opened the door behind them. Yvette held her ground a moment before she turned and walked outside. The bodies followed. The door was left wide open.

Every vein on my body was popping out. I could feel a panic in my breath. The situation continued to knock the wind out of me over and over again. I stumbled back to Yvette's room like a raging asthma attack.

Angela's eyes looked up at me. Her blonde hair was bunched up. Her eyes were running. I could hear the whine in her breathing nose.

"I'm so..." I said suddenly. From the back of my throat, I felt the sort of bawling I had never known crawl out of me. "Angela! I'm..."

Unable to find any words I went to her in the closet and stroked her hair away from her face. Her big sad, blue eyes just stared at me in horror. I pressed my forehead to hers and shook with regret, sadness, and a lack of understanding. My brain leapt all over my affair with Yvette.

I was on the couch forcing myself into her.

I was in the company bathroom jacking off to her.

I was fucking her in front of her douche bag friendEric.

I was being blown while Carl begged for her attention.

I was watching her wipe my cum on Angela's face while she slept.

I was holding her in the church.

I was eating her pussy in front of two strangers.

The shower. The kitchen. I was in the dumb ass mini-van that Angela wanted.

This room. Her room. I was putting it right in her ass.

Of course she'd do this. Of course she'd do this. I hadchosen Angela after all. I had chosen my sweet, beautiful, amazing wife over our daughter's smutty, diseased madness. I was a good a person!

My rage shook out of me like a foaming beer can. I grabbed at items in Yvette's closet. I grabbed her clothes and threw them out. I grabbed a box full of childhood knick-knacks and tossed it over my shoulder. Old school folders were dumped and tossed behind me. My hands found the stupid fucking electric guitar she'dnever practiced. I slammed my daughter's shit all across her room. I could hear myself screaming like an animal in a pit of rabies.

It wasn't enough. There wasn't enough damage to do.

I grabbed my daughter's desk and slammed it to the floor. The drawers tumbled and I could hear the silly cheap wood crush beneath the weight of it. My fingers clawed at her bed and ripped its sheets and pillows away.

I kicked the amplifier and speaker combination to her electric guitar. My barefoot collapsed the cheap son of a bitch like a paper cup. My breathing was the rum and coke of total fucking madness and absolute heartbreak.

With the contents of Yvette's room strewn all over her floor, I finally turned to my wife. I dropped to my knees in front of her and sobbed.

I realized sheneeded the little key. She needed the little key to be let go. I had to help my wife by finding thelittle key. The soldiers in my brain assumed their desperate mission and one of the sergeants even sounded hopeful that thekey would somehow fix everything!

My fingers dug past the old coloring books, the clothes Yvette had outgrown, and the silly toys she'd always wanted. My fingers became meticulous in their search as my mind tried to find equilibrium. The key was so small and so stupid. I realized I had been stupid for losing it. I hated myself. I hated myself forlosing the key. I hated myself for betraying my wife. I hated myself for not freeing her right away.

I found the key beneath an old Mickey Mouse Club Hat. 'Yvette' was stitched into the back of it in red thread.

My fingers gripped the key and I looked to my wife. Her eyes were red, overwrought with tears. I reached behind her with my shaking fingers and found the handcuffs that held her there. I slipped the key into the lock and turned it. I found its companion lock and did the same.

"Angela..." was all I could manage.

With her hands free, she reached behind her head to undo her gag. My clumsy fingers were right on top of hers and I slipped the buckle I found there to open it.

Now that she was free, I jumped away from her like she was on fire.

Angela rubbed her throat and I felt anxiety in my ankles. I tore my eyes from her and spotted a certificate with Yvette's name on it. It readsecond place on the swim team. When the hell had that happened?

"Kyle?" Angela croaked.

I didn't respond. I searched for the year the certificate had been issued.

"Kyle," Angela wept.

There wasno year on the certificate. I thought that was the dumbest thing I'd ever seen.

"Kyle!" She blurted and then caught herself. "Please put some pants on."

I looked at my wife. Her big lips were a heavy frown and her big blue eyes were pleading with me as she stayed in her spot in my daughter's closet.

I took her words as permission to be dismissed and I walked out of my daughter's room. My feet were ahead of me every step of the way and I found a pair of jeans in my own closet.

I gripped the doorjamb to the closet and held the pants. This is what my daughter had meant. This is what it meant to be totally destroyed. It was diabolical. It was unpredictable.It was perfection.

I slipped my pants on and realized I wasn't alone.

I turned to see Angela in the door to our bedroom. Her arms were folded. She carried the weight of the world on her small shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Kyle."

"You want," He stopped himself and continued right away. " You and me. I mean. Should we divorce?" I gulped and offered.

Angela just stared at me.

I dropped the pants from my hand and tripped into the bathroom. I started the shower. I knew deep down that in order to talk to my wife, I had to be respectful enough to wash all of Yvette's sinister scents and tastes from my body. I knew I owed her at least that much.

I popped my shirt off and felt the pounding water from outside the shower.

I realized that I wanted to be clean. If Angela threw me out of the house and out of her life --she'd be right to, but I was going to be clean and homeless! I was going to be clean and eating fast food. I was going to be clean and paying for anything my wife wanted.

I stepped into the shower. When I tried to close the door behind me, Angela stopped me and stepped in behind me fully dressed. I squirted the soft soap into my palm and did my best to ignore her. When I reached toward my filthy dick, she stopped me.

"Leave it."

I pouted and held my palm to the spray of the shower. I let the soap rinse away.

"How many times?" Angela said above the running water.

I exhaled through flapping lips and clenched my eyes shut.

"Too many."

I couldn't look at her. I just stood there limply and unable to face her.

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

Angela sniveled at that response and wiped her eyes with her rest. "What, what do you mean—"

"Everywhere, Angela," I bit off. "Here. In this shower. Yesterday."

"While I was watching TV." She said, reminding me of Yvette's dirty mouth.

"No," I turned to her. "That was the kitchen."

"Twice in one day?"

I sighed. Three. I considered Angela's heartbroken face. I wondered if I could be completely honest with her about all the times. I wondered if I could explain the affair in such a way that she could forgive me.

"Three times yesterday. Twice, almost three times the night before."