The Descent Ch. 09

He absentmindedly seasoned the steaks and put them back in the marinade and into the fridge while he daydreamed of fucking both of the Weaver women and letting the fabric pressed against his burgeoning erection offer the slightest bit of relief.

Sharon was walking back to the drink cart to pour herself another rum and coke when Barb appeared from the house with a platter of fruit. Freshly cut pineapple, watermelon, mango, and honeydew joined some thinly sliced cucumbers, carrots, and a smattering of grapes in an aesthetically pleasing display.

Sharon was already well-aware of her friend's adherence to traditional norms—a quirk that she'd never understood given her generally rebellious nature—but she'd really outdone herself this time.

"That's beautiful," Sharon commented while mid-pour.

"Thank you! I saw someone do it like this on a social media thing and gave it a try," Barb replied, setting the platter down on one of the side tables of the drink cart.

After setting it down she reached into the breast of her red bikini top and revealed her pack of Marlboro Lights.

"Oh, good idea," Sharon remarked, swallowing another gulp of mostly rum and setting down her glass.

"Mine are in my purse," Sharon pouted, looking back at her pool recliner.

Barb shook out two long, all-white cigarette from her pack and handed one to Sharon and placed the other between her painted red lips.

"Much obliged," Sharon thanked, placing the filter between her own similarly painted lips.

Barb flicked her lighter to life and held it out to her friend, who leaned in and accepted it with glee. Once lit, Barb brought the dancing flame back to the end of her cigarette and afforded herself the same luxury. The two women exhaled twin streams of smoke up toward the awning, a cascade of relaxation joining the buzz Sharon was already feeling and the borderline drunkenness that Barb had been nursing since about 10am.

"God, that's amazing. Who would have thought that I could go more than 40 years without a single one and now I can't imagine going a single day?" Sharon mused rhetorically, before following another healthy gulp of her drink with a hard pull on her cigarette.

"Yup, you can tell me I'm gonna get lung cancer, emphysema, heart disease, breathe through a fucking machine and...," Barb relayed, pausing for another drag, "I'll tell you I'm taking my chances," she concluded, exhaling another tight stream of smoke from her perfectly painted lips.

Sharon just nodded, herself mid-drag on her cigarette and having nothing to add other than her own agreement.

"So, when are we gonna spice this day up a bit?" Barb toyed; eyes gleaming.

"What did you have in mind?" Sharon replied, intrigued, and excited.

"Well, I know Rich wants to fuck you again," Barb smiled.

"The feeling's mutual, trust me, but...," Sharon said, nodding her head and glancing back to the patio toward Amanda.

"It's a big house, and we have a lot of locked doors, is she really going to go snooping and knocking on doors?" Barb pressed.

"Ehh, I honestly wouldn't put it past her, she's very curious," Sharon replied.

Barb thought to herself a moment, taking a pensive drag on her cigarette and considering options.

"She's still a little pothead, right?" Barb queried.

Sharon frowned reflexively but it morphed into an eye-roll and a begrudging look of agreement.

"Guess everyone knew but me, huh?" she replied, only somewhat annoyed.

"Well, hun, you were a bit of a prude," Barb said, cocking her eyebrow knowingly.

Sharon sighed loudly.

"So, you keep telling me," she accepted, punctuating the distinction of her current self with another drag on her all-white 100.

"Well, you're not now, so let's use it to our advantage. Rich has got some killer weed, like some really, really good shit. It might, might have a little coke in it, but it would keep her busy," Barb tempted.

"Jesus, now I'm diverting my daughter's attention with drugs? This is crazy," Sharon said laughing while stubbing out her smoked Marlboro and taking another long sip on her drink.

"Pot isn't a drug, and it'll be a perfect opportunity," Barb countered.

"Fine, what's the plan?" Sharon accepted, perhaps a little easily but really wanting to feel Rich's massive cock inside of her again.

"Leave it to me," Barb replied, turning toward Amanda without hesitation.

Sharon watched as Barb made her way over to Amanda, before a short conversation led to both of them walking back to the house together a few moments later.

Sharon marveled at the efficiency of her friend's plan and took a final look over to Jim who seemed to be staring into space behind his dark sunglasses. She couldn't even be sure he was awake behind those shades. But it was enough of an opportunity for her horniness to compel her to the other side of the house and toward Rich in the kitchen.

Rich stood at the kitchen island, sipping on his drink and fantasizing. Luckily, one of the objects of his fantasy stepped through the glass door and into reality.

"You look like you've got something on your mind," he commented upon seeing the look of determination on her face.

"Your cock, now," she replied easily.

"Say no more," Rich said, not looking a gift-horse in the mouth.

He led her back to one of the spare bedrooms used primarily as an office and locked the door behind them.

Sharon wasted no time in slipping her bikini bottom down and stepping out of them, walking over to the desk that was positioned in front of the window.

"Fuck me here while I look at my husband," Sharon directed, placing her hands on the cherry oak, and jutting her bare ass out toward Rich.

Rich didn't question it; he was too drunk and too horny. He just unbutton the fly to his tan khaki shorts and pulled down the waistband of his boxer briefs to unsheathe his meat sword.

No words were exchanged as Rich stepped up behind Sharon's shapely ass and positioned his swollen cockhead at the entrance to her pussy. His fist gripped the shaft firmly as he began pressing himself into her and sliding in.

Sharon gasped in delight as the massive girth of Rich's cock filled her aching hole.

"I've wanted this so bad," Sharon breathed.

"So have I, since before you were married," Rich admitted, the passion of the moment and his inebriation emboldening him to make confessions that might not be so readily revealed otherwise.

"I wish I would've started fucking around on Jim a long time ago," Sharon matched, liking the direction of this particular conversation.

"God, you're a whore Sharon," Rich grunted, between long deep strokes that only represented the tip of the iceberg of what he wanted to do to her.

"Do like it?" Sharon pressed.

"I love it, you were always such a stuck up bitch. I wanted to pull that stick out of your ass and replace it with my cock since I met you," Rich continued, his inhibitions now completely eviscerated.

"Oh God, tell me more," Sharon panted, looking out through the window at her pathetic husband, sitting alone on the patio while she got her box stuffed by his best friend.

"Every time you opened your stupid bitch mouth to whine about something, I wanted to shove my cock in it and shut you up. I knew always knew you were a worthless fucking whore," Rich was now saying anything and everything he had ever wanted to say in the heat of the moment without hesitation.

"Tell me again, tell me what I am," Sharon beckoned, her hand now between her legs and rubbing her clit intently.

Rich picked up his pace and adjusted his grip on Sharon's hips, allowing himself greater leverage to ram his rod into her.

"You're a stupid fucking whore and you always have been. Only now you know it and you're getting what you've always deserved. You're doing the only thing you're good for—taking cock," Rich continued, smashing his pelvis hard into the soft, fleshy mounds of Sharon's ass as hard as he could as his orgasm began its approach.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Sharon shrieked, her clit exploding with electricity as an intense orgasm reverberated through her.

As Rich continued smashing away and his balls began tingling with the onset of his first ejaculation, neither of them noticed the seat on the patio going empty.

"I'm gonna cum," Rich sputtered, unable to maintain composure as his muscles tightened to an uncomfortable degree.

"Fill me up, use my hole," Sharon encouraged, trying to will herself toward a continuation of her own orgasm that was leveling off.

"Ohhhhh fuck," Rich relented, his cock surging and his ass flexing with the involuntary spasms of a powerful ejaculation.

Rich pumped his seed into the married pussy of his best friend and felt absolutely no shame or guilt. He imagined sending Sharon home to Jim with a pussy full of his leaking cum and it propelled an additional series of spasms.

As his orgasm approached its end Rich noticed the combination of physical exertion and inebriation had left him a bit weak in the knees.

"Think I need to sit down," he commented, sitting gingerly in the highbacked, leather office chair next to the desk,

Sharon was already walking a bit unsteadily over to her bikini bottoms.

"I need to get back out there, Jim's not in his chair and I didn't exactly tell him about any of this," she explained while slipping her bottoms back on.

Rich was fuzzyheaded and unable or uninterested in continuing any form of conversation, so he just nodded.

Sharon peered down at her crotch and adjusted her bikini, now having another reason to have worn a different color. The cum leaking out of her pussy had already dribbled onto the fabric and even when she tried to wipe it away left a visible streak of pale white near the bottom of the 'V' shaped bikini bottom.

She cursed silently but accepted it and decided that she cared less than she would have anticipated.

So what? She thought. She fucked Rich again, it didn't have to be some 'arrangement' if it happened before, right? Her rationale was obviously compromised by her perspective and drunkenness, but she'd already stopped caring as she stepped into the hallway and back toward the kitchen.

Amanda was surprised that Barb had walked from her mother to her and offered her weed. It was suspicious and previously out-of-character and prompted all kinds of suspicions that were seriously compromised by her desire to get high.

Silently, Amanda appreciated the calculated nature of what was obviously intended to be a diversion—for what exactly—Amanda was not completely sure.

"Where'd Rich get it?" she asked Barb as they made their way to one of the many back rooms of the giant home.

"One of his many shady friends, he's sold a lot of houses to drug dealer's actually. Well, I don't know that they're drug dealers, but I'm pretty damn sure anyways," Barb mused as she approached the 'cigar room' where Rich and his friends smoked cigars, or more frequently pot and had cocktails.

"Here," she said as she grabbed a large wooden cigar box off one of the shelves on the wall.

Amanda watched Barb open the box to reveal 3-4 thick brown blunts and almost started salivating. Amanda adored blunts but was usually too lazy to roll one herself, instead preferring the immediate gratification of a bowl instead. But it was a rare treat for her, and she couldn't wait.

Barb extracted the fattest of the lot and handed it to her, which Amanda accepted graciously. She marveled at it a moment, looking at it from all sides and peering into the front where she could see the fuzzy nugs tucked firmly within. Flecks of white adorned many of them and she wondered about them but didn't ask.

"Ready to spark up?" Barb asked, handing her a steel encased lighter.

Amanda took the lighter and flicked it to life, rolling the end in the flame from all sides to get an even burn. Once sufficient she brought the blunt up to her lips and clamped down, the flame following her all the way. A few healthy puffs and the blunt was lit and ready for action.

Amanda prized herself on being a stoner, and even smoking in front of her mother's best friend for the first time didn't inhibit her displaying of that fact.

She took three subsequent hits on the blunt, each one massive and lung-filling for most, but just a warm-up for her. She trapped the smoke in her lungs for several seconds before allowing it to escape through a massive exhale that turned the previously clear room to a haze in an instant.

"Damn, you know your way around a blunt girly," Barb commented, genuinely impressed by how voraciously Amanda was smoking.

"Am I not wearing tie-dye?" Amanda joked, a goofy grin on her face.

Barb laughed heartily and nodded.

"You want a hit?" Amanda asked, removing the blunt from her mouth and ghost-inhaling a monstrous mouthful of smoke down her throat.

"No, no, that stuff is too strong for me. Last time I tried that weed I thought I was going to die, like literally," Barb confessed laughing.

"Hmph, more for me," Amanda shrugged smiling.

"Alright, you have fun and chill as long as you want, I'm gonna head back out," Barb nodded, heading toward the door.

Amanda was in the middle of another monstrous drag and just nodded, already feeling completely stoned but not being discouraged from pursuing an ever greater sense of intoxication.

As Barb disappeared down the hall Amanda plopped down on one of the shiny leather chairs. It wasn't but a few more minutes before Jim appeared at the door.

"I knew you'd smell your way here," Amanda joked, now in the clouds entirely.

Jim's brow furrowed as he saw the giant blunt smoldering between her fingers.

"Jesus, where did you get that?" he asked.

"Barb gave it to me, some gift from a drug dealer or something," Amanda only half remembered, and less than half cared.

"It looks... intimidating," Jim commented.

"It'll knock you on your ass, Jack," Amanda joked, another lungful of smoke being expelled while she spoke.

"Think It'd be too much for your old dad?" Jim asked through his own smile, now wanting very much to be stoned as well.

"Mmmm, probably. But I do have an idea, here, close the door and I'll show you," Amanda directed, standing up from the chair.

Jim, against his better judgement, stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Lock it," Amanda added, cocking her eyebrow suggestively.

This time Jim hesitated, but ultimately complied with his daughter's demands.

"Okay, now come here," she continued, beckoning him forward with her finger.

Jim felt a little like he was on auto-pilot, and whether that was his two and half drinks or lingering horniness he couldn't say, but he stepped up to his daughter's position and looked down at her with anticipation.

Amanda proceeded by taking a cheek-hollowing pull on the now more than half-smoked blunt and sucking it down noisily into the deepest regions of her lungs. She leaned into and up on her toes toward her father's face and grabbed the back of his head with her left hand. Jim melted into her touch and accepted his daughter's lips against his, going from a subtle touch, to a nibble, and then a kiss.

The smoke began to fill him, and he did his best to focus on inhaling her smokey breath as well as kiss her cherry lip-balm covered lips. After a few moments of kissing and smoke-exchanging, the embrace was broken and both parties stepped back to peer into the smiling face of the other.

"That's probably enough unless you want to reach full-fledged paranoia and couch-locked cannabis coma," Amanda cautioned through a crooked grin.

Jim was still coming down from the kiss when the weed hit him and made him feel like his ears were going to pop and his head was going to float away.

"Holy shit, this stuff is strong," he agreed, suddenly seeking the comfort of the leather chair Amanda had been sitting in.

Amanda wasted no time, her plan working perfectly and her prey precisely where she wanted.

Allowing the blunt to dangle from her lips she walked over and began unbuttoning Jim's fly.

"You can't be serious," Jim commented awestruck.

"Very serious, but we have to hurry," she replied, reaching under Jim's ass to yank on the waist of the khaki shorts.

Instead of offering further resistance he lifted his ass a little to let Amanda slide his shorts down a bit and down to his knees. He felt like he was watching himself from outside of his own body as she slipped her hand between the slit in his boxers and extracted his penis—which was expectedly erect.

"You ready to fuck your daughter?" Amanda said through a haze of weed smoke while juggling the blunt between her lips.

"I think this is a bad idea," Jim heard himself say, but only half-recognized his own voice and offering no further objections—physical or otherwise.

Amanda didn't even both to respond, she just simply reached down and pulled her bikini to the side of her pussy and straddled her father. It took a few moments of hip adjustment but as Jim felt his cockhead slip inside of Amanda's pussy, he knew there was nothing that he was willing to do to avoid what was next.

"And just like that, we've committed incest," she joked, her father's cock now firmly planted inside of her while resting her entire weight on his lap.

"I don't understand," Jim panted, overcome with pleasure but also contending with some of the most confounding confusion he'd ever experienced.

"Neither do I, but it feels good and I want it. I'm just not going to question it, not anymore," Amanda panted, as she began gyrating her hips and taking another pull on the blunt.

Without realizing it Jim had placed his hands on Amanda's ass and began squeezing and kneading them as she rode him.

"See? It's not so hard. We both want this; mom is doing whatever she wants so why can't we?" Amanda continued, half to herself and half to her father.

Jim couldn't even respond, he was too drunk, too high, and too aroused to do anything but lean his head back on the chair and experience the amazing feeling of his 18-year-old daughter's pussy gripping his cock.

He knew he didn't have long, there was just too much pent up anticipation for this moment. And despite this, Jim made no attempt to warn or caution or adjust. He focused instead on the soft, supple mounds of flesh in his hands as he squeezed Amanda's incredibly thick ass. He longed to slap them and cursed the fact that his wife and friends were around to prevent him from doing so.

Amanda leaned into her father and popped one of her C cups from her breast, allowing its heft to drape over and offer a tantalizing opportunity. Unfortunately, Jim's head was leaned back with his eyes closed as if he were being carried off to Heaven—which might not have been so far off.

Amanda leaned in and held her breast out to her father's mouth, pressing her erect nipple into his open mouth and waiting for him to suckle her.

Jim's eyes fluttered open as he realized what was happening and instinctively accepted her gift of flesh, taking her large nipple into his mouth before sucking mouthfuls of her tit into his mouth hungrily. As his orgasm approached, he continued suckling and slurping at Amanda's breast, who was stifling a series of moans and whimpers.

One of her favorite things to do was masturbate while she got high, and her favorite part was trapping the largest lungful of smoke inside as approached orgasm as possible. The lightheadedness of it combined with the pleasure of the orgasm a perfect combination and she intended on imitating that right now.

Amanda pulled on the blunt and inhaled mouthful after mouthful of smoke until she felt like she was going to pass out. Once satisfied she leaned back and bucked her hips as furiously as she could and held her breath as her face flushed with red and a buzzing started in reverberating. Right when it was on the verge of genuine pain, she exhaled in a moan of intense pleasure that gave way to the initial shockwaves of her orgasm.