Bets Ch. 01

"Ok, fine, kiss me...I'll do anything...just calm down..." he said relenting. He chose one form of forbidden over the ultimate. I didn't know if I should have felt relief or vomited as he opened his mouth and let my daughter stick her tongue into him. Like star-crossed lovers, they shared a deep and meaningful exchange. The boom mic picked up their delicate, sensitive bonding.

They kept this up as I sat, slog faced and stoned on shock, until the last raindrop hit the tarp. My husband grunted into her mouth as he pushed into her for another kiss as he came. Soon after, the credits rolled.

My husband sat up with haste and pushed his way up and over the back of the chair. My daughter fell back and then turned her head, lunging her hand after him and lightly running her wanting fingertips down his back. I turned the camera and equipment off and approached her, slowly, almost tiptoeing. She was looking in the direction of where her father had escaped.

"Sara?" I said in a concerned, low voice.

She turned her face to me. It weirdly reminded me of the scene in the Exorcist when the elderly priest dies, and Reagan looks on in casual wonder as the younger priest discovers his lifeless corpse. Her breath was still ragged, her face still flush. Beads of sweat lined her red, abused breasts. The visceral image of her spent body was, even by her own mother's admission, deeply sexual.

"Sara, can you move the blanket for me?" I asked. She stared ahead blankly.

"I'm," I said trepidatiously as I reached to grip the blanket, "I'm going to move it, ok?"

She didn't respond, instead looking blankly into an abyss. The sound it made when I peeled back the blanket was akin to peeling a band aid off a sticky wound. Gobs upon gobs of milky white cum were pooled all around her unshaven pussy, matted against the skin of her tummy, and running down her thighs. A thick pool that resembled a melted marshmallow laid above her pussy folds, threatening to fall into the crease of her labia. I sort of motioned towards it with my hand as if to move it away from its dangerous perch, an instinctive move of a horrified and worried mother.

"Uh oh is some in me?" she muttered. Before I could say a word, she jostled, sending the frothy gob of cum straight down her pussy folds. Creating an image I can never forget, she then plunged two fingers deep inside herself, forcing the cum into her womb. She brought her fingers out, attempting to push the cum she thought was "inside" her out from her depths, but instead flung open her labia so even more gobs could fill her. Then she stuck her fingers deeper inside, searching for more, exasperating the very situation she was trying to escape.

I shuddered, "Honey, no, quit it..."

When she looked down and saw that she had potentially impregnated herself, she shook with trepidation. A melancholy groan escaped her, and she rose up and scurried to her room. Rather than run after her, I let her have her space. I can't imagine what she was processing. I genuinely felt sorry for the woman who was tongue-tied with my husband and trying to desperately jam his cock inside her pussy in a fever dream. What can I say? She was my daughter.

I went to the recording equipment and immediately started to upload the video to the cloud. There was simply no way I could risk losing this footage. If my family wasn't already destroyed by it, at least it could earn us the money to heal the wounds I had created to cause this horrible night.

When it was complete, my husband appeared, freshly showered, a gym bag full of clothes in hand. I went to him and asked where he was going. I could see the desperate exhaustion in his eyes.

"I have to leave this house until I can see my daughter again as my child," he said, "I can't explain it but...there's a new person living here. And I have to wait for her to leave."

I placed my hands on his cheeks and looked him in the eyes, apologizing in a thousand different ways. He put his head on my shoulder and hugged me as he sobbed. Through it all, I just wanted to know if he was still himself. My husband wasn't gone. He simply did something unthinkable, and his conscience hadn't left him.

After he departed, I went upstairs to check on Sara. I saw from the hallway she was seated next to her bedroom window, a purple dildo in hand. She gobbled up the rest of the cum on her midriff along the edges of the sex toy and then jammed it into her depths. It vibrated as she jammed it into her swollen pussy. Light gleamed off it as it pistoned in and out of her, covered in cum. She was gyrating intensely with the taboo experience. Wherever her head was, I didn't want to confront it. There was some other plane of existence she had entered which I couldn't dare try to heal without giving her a great deal of space.

Tired and exhausted, I grabbed the chair and dragged it, creaking, across the living room and kitchen and out to the backyard. The fluids matted against its fabric were visible even in moonlight. I went back in and collected the DVD, blanket, and anything else that came out of that infernal box. With a swipe I grabbed the lighter fluid from next to the grill, sprayed it generously, and lit the pile on fire.

I watched as the blaze engulfed the chair. Too tired to cry, I crossed my arms and felt its warmth wash over me. Curious, I looked back to the hallway window on the second floor. I saw the shadow of my daughter, plowing the cum-covered dildo in and out of herself, staring down on me from above. Even when it was apparent I was watching, she didn't stop. Her shadow shook, and I knew she was cumming.