“No. Absolutely not. This conversation is insane.”
“Please,” she said, standing, hands on my shoulders. “Just once. On video. That’s all.”
“You’re asking to suck your own father’s cock. Do you hear yourself?”
“It’s only a blowjob. Until you finish.”
“Don’t talk like that. I can’t believe we’re even discussing this.”
“I know it sounds awful,” she said, eyes glistening. “But if I don’t, I’ll be humiliated at school forever. Please—just a few minutes. Enough to prove I did it.”
“No. Discussion over. I’m disappointed in you.”
Watching her cry always destroyed me—ever since her mom died. Tears spilled; she fled, auburn hair trailing, door slamming. I collapsed into a chair, head spinning.
But once your daughter asks to suck you off, the thought burrows in. Those full lips stretched around me, her throat working… I squeezed my thighs together, punishing the erection. She was untouched. Inexperienced mouths are unforgettable—I remembered a few from my own teenage years. Her mother had been an expert; that’s one reason I fell so hard.
And now our daughter—looking so much like her—wanted to try. I hadn’t been touched in years. Never brought women home; wouldn’t do that to Madison. Never imagined she’d become the fantasy.
“Just a blowjob,” I muttered. “Just until I finish. She’s lost it.”
My dick throbbed. I flipped on sports. Didn’t help—swimsuit special. I killed the TV, headed to the bathroom, freed eleven thick inches. Angry, red, demanding attention. I stroked once, hating myself for picturing her mouth. How had tonight gone so wrong?
She’d never handle this much anyway—tiny virgin, nervous licks, asking how it would fit. Then my mind slid lower. That virgin slit—so tight it would hurt us both.
A year ago she’d stumbled in drunk at dawn, skirt hiked, panties showing a crimson stain. I’d assumed she lost it that night. Apparently just her cycle.
I could picture parting those smooth lips, watching those blue eyes flutter as I filled her.
“Stop,” I hissed. “She’s your kid.”
I quit stroking, took an ice-cold shower. It worked—deflated me like I’d taken a vow. Dressed in sweats and a tee, I stared in the mirror. Had to fix this. She needed to know I wasn’t furious, just shaken. She was trapped; didn’t mean my dick was the solution.
“Sweetheart?” I eased her door open.
Face buried in pillow. “Go away.”
“Can we talk a second?”
“Why? So you can call me disgusting again?”
I sat on the bed’s edge, touched her shoulder—she flinched away.
“Honey, you blindsided me. I’m sorry I said disappointed. I’m not—not really.”
“You are.”
“When I was your age my buddies and I ran the same kind of contests—racing to sleep with certain girls, ranking performances. I get the pressure.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. One girl hooked up with all of us on different days just to crown a winner. I understand why this dare matters to you—”
“Who won?”
“Not important. The point—”
“Tell me.”
I sighed. “I did. Happy?”
“Why?”
“She said… I was bigger.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway—”
“What does size matter?”
“Can we focus on you?”
“I’m curious.”
“Guys vary. The ones in your videos weren’t identical.”
“Yours is different?”
“Everyone’s different. Look—I get why you felt cornered. I’m not mad. Okay?”
“Really?” Big eyes, pouty mouth.
“Really.”
“So… you’ll help?”
“No. Just saying I’m not angry.”
“Then why not?” Back to pouting.
“Because fathers and daughters don’t do that. It’s wrong.”
“It’s one time. A few minutes. I’ll do what they did—mouth, suck, done.”
“Honey—”
“Give me your hand.”
“What?”
She grabbed it, brought it to her lips, sucked my finger deep—tongue swirling, teeth grazing.
“Madison!” I yanked free. “Enough.”
“See? Finger, dick—same thing. Just skin.”
“There’s a massive difference. Stop.”
“Why is it so bad?”
“It’s incest.”
“It isn’t sex. Not in my vagina.”
“Don’t say that.”
“What should I call it then?”
“Doesn’t matter. I can’t put anything in your mouth. Fathers don’t.”
“But I need you to. Three minutes. No one sees your face—you hold the phone, waist-down only. I’ll say it’s my college boyfriend.”
“I’ve got a better idea. Tell them you fought and he dumped you.”
“I already said I recorded it yesterday.”
“Say you deleted it.”
“They’ll know I’m lying. Dad, please—I’m begging. Three minutes. You don’t even have to finish. I’ll fake it.”
“God, Madison. Doesn’t the idea disgust you?”
“Not really. I’d rather it be you than some stranger. I love you. You’ve always been there. I thought… maybe you’d enjoy it. Don’t guys like blowjobs?”
“Jesus. Bottom line: no. It’s wrong.”
Tears welled. “Why—besides you’re my dad?”
“That’s enough reason.”
“If you were just some guy—neighbor, friend—would you say yes?”
“Any straight guy would.”
“Then I’ll ask someone else.” She slid off the bed, grabbed shoes.
“Where are you going?”
“Mr. Peterson next door. He’ll do it.”
“Madison!” I blocked the door. “You’re not leaving.”
“Move.”
“No.”
“Why? If I can’t have yours, I’ll take someone else’s.”
“He’s too old!”
“He waves every day. Not a stranger.”
“He’s a creep then. What if he hurts you?”
“At least it’ll be on video. Move.”
“Damn it! Your friends aren’t worth this!”
“Why won’t you help? This matters to me!”
“Because you’ll regret it later! They won’t be in your life forever—I will. How will you feel on your wedding night remembering you blew your dad? You’ll hate me.”
“I won’t! I swear! If I ever say I hate you, remind me I begged and you had no choice. Please—help me when I needed you most. Or do you want me remembering you made me go next door? Which memory do you want?”
“Fine,” I snapped.
Her face lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah. Go suck Peterson off.” I stepped aside.
Eyes blazing, she stormed past, out the front door.
“She won’t,” I muttered. “She can’t.”
I hurried to the window. Saw her knock. Door opened. She went inside.
“No. No way.”
I sprinted across the lawn, pounded the door. “Open up! Peterson, open or I’m breaking it!”
It swung wide. “Jason?”
Belt undone, pants still up. I shoved past. Madison sat on his couch, phone ready, glaring.
“Jason, she asked if—”
“Shut up.”
I grabbed her arm, hauled her out, across the yard, slammed our door.
“You’ve lost it!”
“Fuck you! At least he agreed! Bet he wouldn’t let his kid down!”
“Fine!” I roared. “Suck mine! I don’t care anymore. Hate me later—it’s on you!”
“Really?” Instant smile. “I can?”
“This is unreal.”
She hugged me. “Thank you, Dad! I’ll never hate you.”
“God help me.”
“Now? I need it tonight—school tomorrow.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. My room.”
She dragged me in, shut the door. I kept telling myself this was damage control—better me than some creep. At least she’d know who it was.
