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My name is Jason. I’m just a regular guy—nothing special. No movie-star looks, barely scraping six feet on a good day. I’m ordinary, desk-bound, and way too easy to push around. Especially with my eighteen-year-old daughter. Most dads are weak like that. One glimpse of those striking blue eyes and I cave instantly: latest smartphone, top-of-the-line laptop, new SUV, endless shopping sprees with her friends. Whatever she wants. Being a single dad since her mom passed has its downsides, but spoiling Madison has always felt right. That radiant smile makes every dollar worth it.
Things were smooth until Madison asked for something I could never, ever give her—my dick.
It began one quiet Sunday over dinner. Madison took over cooking after we lost her mother; she handles the house like it’s second nature. I was wiped out—another miserable weekend shift at the office. She must have noticed because she offered, “Dad? Want me to work the knots out of your shoulders?”
“I’m good, sweetheart.”
“Okay,” she answered softly, that gentle tone so much like her mom’s. She looked like her too: long auburn waves, full C-cup chest that I pretended not to register, about 5’5”, always showing off toned legs in tiny shorts, barefoot, bright coral polish on her toes and fingers today. The cropped top barely covered anything—stomach exposed, the way girls her age dress now.
“I need to ask you something,” she said.
Here it comes, I thought. Money again. She deserves it—she takes care of everything. “Sure, honey. How much this time?”
She shook her head, auburn strands spilling across her shoulders, biting that plump lower lip—so much like her mother’s. Maybe I tell myself she’s her mom’s twin so the guilt stings less when my eyes linger.
“Not money,” she said. “Something bigger.”
“Go on.”
“I need you to watch a couple videos first.”
“Videos? We can do a movie night.”
“No, not that kind. Watch these so you’ll understand the favor.” She pulled out her phone, tapped the screen. “It’s my friend Chloe—she’s eighteen.”
I knew Chloe; she’d practically lived here growing up with Madison. Lately she hadn’t been around as much.
“In the clip she does something pretty wild. Just watch. There are two more after—Jenna and then Brooke, both eighteen too. Keep going.”
Confused, I took the phone. She carried dishes to the sink; water ran as I hit play.
“Hi, I’m Chloe, and this is how you give head.”
My jaw dropped. The frame widened—Chloe topless, panties still on, reaching for the guy’s zipper. She freed an average erection—maybe five-and-a-half inches—and took it straight down her throat.
“What the actual hell?”
I glanced toward the kitchen. Faucet still running. Back to the screen: Chloe bobbing furiously, black hair whipping, the guy groaning, fingers tangled in her hair, forcing her deeper.
Why the fuck was my daughter showing me this? My jeans tightened despite myself as Chloe gagged, pulled off gasping, then dove back in. Four minutes later the guy erupted; semen spilled over her chin onto her chest. She beamed at the lens.
“That’s how you give head!”
The next clip auto-started. Jenna—poolside regular in bikinis—now bare-breasted, fishing a six-incher out of cargo shorts.
“I’m Jenna, and this is how you give head.”
Less skilled, more hesitant licks at first, but the guy wasn’t patient. Three minutes in he painted her face.
Then Brooke—jungle-gym memories—blonde hair bouncing as she attacked seven inches.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, shutting it off. This felt like some fever dream. My little girl just handed me amateur porn starring her best friends. I stormed into the kitchen.
“Madison, what in God’s name was that?”
She shut off the water, turned. Tank top damp, skin showing through.
“You watched them all.”
“Why would you show me that? I’m speechless.”
“We need to talk about it.”
“Talk? I should ground you. You’re eighteen, sure, but you live under my roof. You don’t shove porn in your father’s face.”
“Dad, it isn’t porn.”
“Then what is it?”
“A challenge.”
“A what?”
She walked to the living-room couch. I followed. She sat; I stayed standing.
“Remember when I got my first period? I was scared, crying. You explained everything, drove me to buy supplies, promised I could always come to you. Same with my first kiss—I told you every detail.”
“What’s your point?”
“I’m about to tell you some stuff I’ve been doing.”
“Madison, I don’t need details about your sex life. You’re an adult outside these walls.”
“But you said I could tell you anything.”
I finally sat. “Yes, but I didn’t expect a highlight reel of your friends blowing guys.”
“Just hear me out. My friends started this game—bragging who gave better head. They each filmed proof. I… joined the bet.”
“That’s why you showed me?”
“I’m getting there. I’ve been pretending I’m seeing a college guy. I said we hook up constantly.”
“Why lie?”
“Senior year, Dad. Admitting you’re still a virgin gets you roasted.”
“You’re a virgin?”
“Yeah. Haven’t really dated seriously in months.”
“I figured when you went out—”
“You assumed wrong. Anyway, when they bragged about oral skills, I said I was the best.”
“Christ.”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Never touched one’?”
I rubbed my temples. “Where is this going, Madison?”
“All three made their videos. It’s my turn. Deadline’s tomorrow—school starts again.”
“You’re planning to film yourself giving head?”
“I have to. It’s the challenge.”
“Tell them the truth.”
“Can’t. They’d spread it everywhere. I’d be the laughingstock through community college too.”
“So what—pick up some random guy tonight? That’s how I raised you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend, so… I need someone else.” She took a breath. “That’s why I showed you.”
It still didn’t click. What father would see it coming? “What are you saying?”
“I’m asking if you’d… pretend to be my boyfriend on camera. If you’d let me give you head.”
I shot up. “Are you out of your mind? I’m your father!”
Her head dropped. “I know. I’m mortified even asking. But there’s no one else I trust. Please, Dad—can I put your dick in my mouth?”
