The Descent Ch. 13

Jim no longer felt like being at home. He considered staying at a hotel for a while or even getting an apartment, he could certainly afford it. He took another sip of his whiskey and absentmindedly stared at golf playing on one of the TVs in the sports bar. It wasn't even 2 in the afternoon and here he was—drunk and alone in a shitty bar. He wondered again how he had ended up there, and more importantly, what he was going to do about it.

In a lot of ways things had gone well. Becoming swingers had opened him and his wife up to a host of new experiences and they had both really enjoyed it. Sharon had completely surprised him by being into it after the first time and the regret and guilt had not really been a factor. But then something had happened, something had been awoken in Sharon that he could never have anticipated.

Jim knew that Sharon had been a lifelong prude and was a straightlaced kid who didn't rebel or experiment even when it was expected of her during her teenage years. That being the case, he could have anticipated a bit of a mid-life crisis when she finally did let her hair down a little bit—but what had happened was beyond anything that he could have imagined. It had been weeks since he'd recognized the woman he'd been married to for decades.

The warmth, the kindness, the decency that she'd once shown so effortlessly was now a distant memory. In its place was a ravenous hunger for anything and everything that would give her carnal pleasure and feed her ego. Worse of all, however, was the fact that his daughter was now a part of it. This past weekend was the culmination of a train that had long been off the tracks, and although things were bad before—they were forever changed now.

Jim was now mostly incapable of even speaking to his daughter—even being in the same room with her was torturous. He felt like a fraud, a hypocrite, and a failure of a father. Worse yet, he didn't feel like he had the moral standing to even broach the topic with her. Afterall, he had been a willing participant in an incestuous affair with her that was eating at his very soul. Although he would never allow himself to do anything like that again, the damage was done. To their relationship and more importantly for Jim—his perception of himself as her father, her guardian, and her protector.

He had watched helplessly as she tumbled into cocaine addiction with his wife and become such a torrid drinker that he feared she'd likely succumb to alcohol poisoning just as likely as overdosing on coke. Even then he did nothing but watch, sadly, from the sidelines as her wife's influence on her grew until he was looking on from the outside in every conceivable manner. He was now an irrelevant fixture in their lives and in the context of the family. An utterly impotent and meaningless figure who was neither a father nor husband.

He punctuated that thought with a final gulp of his whiskey and considered another, wary about whether the barkeep would even continue to serve him. He figured he was drunk enough to go home and sleep without having to endure the realities of his situation for another day. He slapped a couple of $100's on the bar and stumbled toward the door. He hoped no one would notice how drunk he was and call the cops, he had chosen that bar specifically because it was so close to his home.

He climbed into his BMW, and with a deep breath steeled himself for the short trek home.

It was a blur that he barely remembered. One second, he was on the road and the next he was crashing into the ditch 3 blocks from his home. The horn was blaring, and his head was laying on the deflated airbag on the steering wheel. His shoulder was killing him, and he could taste the coppery essence of blood in his mouth. Jim blinked and tried to get his vision to stop spinning but it was no use—he vomited on himself.

After catching his breath Jim unclasped his seatbelt and opened the door. He could hear somebody speaking to him, but he wasn't sure who it was or where it was coming from. He made it a few steps before everything went black.

The next thing he experienced were the harsh lights of his hospital room and the soft beep of his heart monitor. As Jim struggled to see and his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room, he looked at himself to appraise the physical damage he had incurred. His left arm was in a sling and encased in a cast, he could feel the tingling sensation of his damaged appendage that signified something was definitely broken.

"Dad! How are you feeling?" came a familiar voice from his right.

Jim turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw his daughter, looking at him from a chair next to his bed. Her makeup was smeared, and it was obvious to Jim that she had been crying. Sharon was nowhere to be seen, however.

"I'm okay, where's your mother?" Jim asked.

"She's at home, she's... not in driving shape. I was sober enough to come see you and report back," Amanda answered.

Jim fought back the urge to roll his eyes that even something like this wouldn't be enough to slow Sharon down.

"How long have I been here?" Jim asked.

"Um, I'm not sure. Not too long I don't think. They called us about an hour ago and I came right away," Amanda explained.

Jim looked up at the clock and it read 5:12pm. He hadn't been there more than a couple of hours.

"So, what happened?" Amanda asked.

Jim was pretty embarrassed to admit he was simply so drunk that he wandered off the road, but that was the truth. Even still, he didn't know how much the hospital staff knew or if he was being monitored by the police for a DUI, so he settled on caution.

"Nothing just took my eyes off the road for a minute. Dumb," he answered curtly.

Amanda searched his eyes for more but was content that if there was more, he was not going to spill it right now.

"Mr. Weaver how are we doing?" came the voice of a 40-something overweight woman in scrubs who'd entered the room.

"I've been better," Jim replied candidly.

"I'm sure that's true, but it could've been worse," she reasoned.

Jim nodded and smiled in agreeance.

"Well, I'm Dawn, I'll be your nurse for a few more hours until the night shift starts. Has the doctor talked to you yet?" Dawn asked.

Jim shook his head.

"Okay, well I'll let him tell you everything, but you broke a couple of bones and got a nasty concussion, but we don't see any need for serious concern, I at least wanted you to know that much," Dawn explained, nodding toward Jim and then Amanda.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," Amanda replied earnestly.

"Yeah, thanks," Jim added.

"How is your pain on a scale of 1-10?" Dawn asked.

"Like 3-4," Jim replied.

"And is that mostly here?" Dawn asked, touching her collarbone and shoulder area.

"Yeah, my head hurts some too," Jim explained.

"Okay, well we got you on some pain meds but if you need something else let me know and we can see what else we can do, okay?" Dawn explained kindly.

"Sounds good," Jim replied.

"Okay, hit the call button if you need anything, the doctor should be in to see you shortly," Dawn instructed before stepping back out into the hallway.

A few moments later a doctor came in and explained what had happened. Jim had broken his left collarbone and fractured a rib and suffered a severe concussion. Luckily, however, someone had called 911 and the first on the scene was the ambulance. The police had not had a chance to do a blood draw to see if he had been drinking. Since he hadn't been involved in an accident with anyone and there was no property damage, he wasn't sure that the police were going to try to arrest him.

All in all, Jim felt supremely lucky that he was likely not going to be thrown in jail. He was going to be considered for discharge the following day if his vitals were stable and there was no indication of internal bleeding or complications from the head trauma.

"Can I stay?" Amanda asked the doctor after the long explanation.

"Yeah, the nurse can get you a cot if you want to stay overnight," the doctor answered.

"You don't have to do that, I'm fine," Jim reasoned, but his daughter was having none of it.

"If I can stay, I'm staying," she refuted resolutely.

With that the doctor left the room and left them alone.

"Why are you staying? You heard the doctor, there's no cause for concern," Jim asked.

"Because this all happened because I was neglecting you. With mom in her own world, you needed me, and I wasn't there," Amanda answered, her eyes glassy with the threat of more tears.

"This isn't your fault, honey. None of this is your fault, your mom and I have our own thing going on and none of it is your responsibility to fix or compensate for," Jim explained, pained by her daughter's words.

"I don't care what you say, I said that I would be there for you with mom the way that she is, and I wasn't. I'm sorry, I'm here now," she said softly, reaching out and touching Jim's hand.

It was hard for Jim to deny his daughter's comfort in that moment, so he accepted it and smiled warmly at her.

"Thanks honey," Jim replied.

Jim didn't notice that he'd fallen asleep, but he did notice waking up. For a minute he lay there in the dark, silent and unmoving while he made sense of what he was feeling. When he was sure of himself, he looked down and saw Amanda with her hand beneath his hospital gown stroking his cock.

"What are you doing?" he asked in hushed outrage.

"Doing what I said I would do, just relax daddy," Amanda purred.

"No! We can't keep doing this! It's wrong!" Jim's whisper was pressured and ragged.

"Shhhh, just lay back," were Amanda's last words before her head disappeared under his gown.

Before he could offer any further protests the sensation of his daughter's mouth around his cock assaulted his senses. The pleasure of it stole his breath and his will. He was bedridden and at the mercy of Amanda at this point, and even if he did everything in his physical power to stop her, he likely couldn't.

The soft slurping and sucking sounds accompanied the rhythmic beeps of his heart monitor, and soon the only thing Jim was physically aware of was the glorious feeling of warmth, wetness, and suction from Amanda sucking his cock. He felt his resistance wane in the form of a much-needed sexual release approaching and knew there was nothing that was going to be able to stop the inevitable.

Accepting it finally, Jim leaned back into his pillow and focused on the increasing pace of Amanda bobbing on his prick.

"I'm gonna cum," he whispered softly.

A murmur of 'mmhmm' was the only reply as Amanda changed nothing in preparation of his seed. Jim's pelvis thrusted in an involuntary convulsion and propelled the first explosive ejaculation to fill his daughter's mouth. From there it was as if a dam had been broken as Jim's eyes watered, and his hands gripped the mattress as he pumped his load into Amanda's eager mouth. There wasn't so much as a single utterance of struggle from Amanda as every drop was swallowed with a practiced ease.

As she finally surrendered his shrinking phallus from her mouth and back to its gown-clad home, Jim was able to properly contextualize his position. He was not ten hours from swearing to never again do exactly what he'd just done and already his daughter's stomach was full of his cum. As awful as it had been to accept his part in the situation that he found himself in, he was also becoming more and more accepting of the fact that Amanda was the aggressor. Not that it made it any better to be 'at the mercy' of his own 18-year-old daughter when speaking about incest, but it did at least lessen the guilt of it at that moment and allow him to fall back asleep.

Upon waking he was delighted to see Amanda fully clothed and sleeping peacefully in the cot next to him. Somehow, he thought it would be hard to explain his naked, snuggling daughter sleeping in his bed to the doctor or nurse. He wanted out of this hospital as soon as humanly possible. Luckily, it was only a few hours later when Amanda drove Jim back to their home without so much as a single phone call from Sharon.

There was no fanfare upon stepping back into the house and Sharon was nowhere to be found within the dark home. A sliver of golden light at the base of the guest bathroom door was all the evidence Jim needed that nothing had changed. He graciously accepted his daughter's comfort and assistance in getting to his bedroom. Jim was incredibly sore, and his head still hurt a lot, it was nice to have her walk him back to the room.

"Thank you, honey, for everything," Jim offered as he laid back in his bed.

"Of course, daddy," Amanda responded sweetly.

"I'm going to go let mom know we're home, do you need anything before I go?" she followed.

Jim just shook his head and allowed the incredible comparative plushness of his bed to offer its blessings on his sore body after the sub-par rest he'd gotten at the hospital.

"Okay, be right back," she replied, disappearing into the hallway.

Jim wasn't aware of his falling asleep, as it once again had crept up on him like a ghost. But like last time he was awoken to something stirring near him. He peered over to see his wife shaking some of the pills he'd gotten from the hospital into her open palm.

"Hey, I need that," Jim croaked, barely awake.

"Oh please, a bump on your head and one broken bone. You'll be fine with some Tylenol. Besides, I'm not taking all of it, stop worrying," she spat, no trace of love in her tone or intent.

"That stuff kills people Sharon," Jim cautioned, well aware of the dangers of opioid abuse through all the reports on the news.

"I'll be fine, just go back to sleep," she replied, her tone a little softer.

Jim didn't have the strength or resolve to fight or argue with her and relented to the sleep that was interrupted just moments ago.

Upon awaking next Jim was surprised to feel the presence of another body in the bed with him. He was momentarily thankful to have his wife finally share their bed with him after what had seemed like weeks, but then overcome with a different set of emotions when he realized it was not Sharon.

"Hi, daddy," Amanda purred from next to him.

"Where's your mom?" Jim asked, worried about her seeing them.

"Who cares?" Amanda replied, a little too venomously.

"She's still your mom," Jim replied, trying to convince himself just as much as convince his daughter.

Amanda's eyes glazed over, and her mouth curled into a sarcastic grin.

"Is she?" Amanda challenged.

Jim resisted the urge to say touché and instead settled on a more diplomatic response.

"She loves you and no matter what she does or says, she'll always be there for you," Jim wanted it to be true more than he knew it to be true, but it felt like the correct and fatherly thing to say, and he was pining to remember what that feeling was like.

Amanda, for her part, wasn't buying what he was selling.

"Whatever you say," she replied with an eye-roll.

"You really can't sleep here, honey," Jim said in as stern a tone as he could manage given the circumstances.

"Oh yeah, and why is that?" Amanda challenged, her post-accident sweeter-than-sugar attitude morphing back to her typical obstinate self.

"Because your mother will see us and then things will get really ugly," Jim reasoned.

"Uh, hello? Do you remember what happened last weekend? Where the fuck would she get off saying anything at this point?" she countered.

"Drunkenly kissing your mother while pretending to be friends at a swinger party is one thing, sleeping with your father is quite another," Jim continued tried reasoning, even when his own words sounded insane to him.

"Says who?" Amanda pressed.

"Well, the law for one. It's illegal," Jim said, feeling like he had just made a strong point.

Judging by the snort from Amanda, his feeling was not shared.

"So, mom, the coke-head drunk who snowballed cum in public with her daughter is going to turn us in?" Amanda asked incredulously.

It was so utterly ludicrous to hear some of these things spoken aloud that Jim stifled an uncomfortable laugh. The only thing that kept the chuckle at bay was the fact that these deranged events were true.

Jim was at a loss, and he wasn't even sure exactly what he was supposed to be fighting for anymore. Any semblance of normalcy or morality was long-gone, and it seemed like the only relationship being offered to him by either his wife or his daughter was this twisted incestuous love affair from his own flesh and blood.

"I'm horny," Amanda blurted suddenly, shaking Jim out of his mind and back on the present.

The whiplash nature of the conversation had rendered Jim's brain temporarily out of order, and he fumbled for a response to his daughter declaring herself 'horny' expectantly and in his direction.

"I wanna fuck," she continued, clearly intending on forging ahead with or without his input.

"Honey, please, can we just slow down and think rationally for a minute," Jim pleaded.

"Nope," Amanda replied curtly.

She was already undressing, which didn't take long since all she had been wearing was an oversize t-shirt and panties. In mere moments she was completely nude and crawling on all fours toward Jim with a singular focus in her eyes.

"Oh Christ," Jim cursed as he attempted to scoot himself up the bed and away from the ravenous teenager eyeing him like a piece of meat.

It was no use; he was borderline disabled and one handed. She was yanking down his slacks before he knew what was happening.

"Please, honey, I'm begging you, please—," his breath was stolen the moment Amanda climbed atop him and sank his frustratingly half-erect rod into her.

"There, that's better, isn't it?" Amanda cooed, as her hips began working.

"Oh no, this, oh God, no," Jim panted and objected and panicked.

Visions of being stuffed into the back of a police car in handcuffs flooded his mind. He tried to push those away, however, and focus on the door to his bedroom which was wide open. He waited and watched with trained eyes on the hallway where he knew at any moment Sharon was going to appear and see her husband getting fucked by their daughter. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes and soon after the wetness of them leaking down and into the hair near his temple.

"Yeah, give in daddy, just let me make you feel good," Amanda went on, unaware of the mental and emotional anguish of the distraught man beneath her.

She was moaning uninhibitedly and making no attempts at concealing her sounds of lovemaking. If Sharon was anywhere in the house, she could easily hear them and what was happening. As hard as Jim tried, he fought the feelings of pleasure and incredible physical sensations of the moment but ultimately was a victim of his anatomy as much as he was a victim of his daughter's carnal desires.

His cock was fully erect and planted deep inside of his daughter's gyrating body, the repercussions of which were impossible to deny. He was absolutely on his way to another orgasm, and he knew that he was going to have no other choice than to paint the inside of his daughter's womb with his virile seed. Feeling utterly helpless and at the mercy of the moment and his own physical needs Jim placed his uninjured hand behind his daughter's neck and beckoned her down.

She was riding him with a furious bucking of her hips and shrieking loudly, Jim cut that off with a kiss. That kiss morphed into another and another and before long they were kissing like teenagers in the back of their parents' sedan. Something had broken inside of Jim at that moment. The anger and frustration that had been building for weeks while his wife neglected him, and his daughter was influenced away from him bubbled to the surface.

He was staking his claim, here and now.