Kindan no Kajitsu – Forbidden Fruit

I am not a pedophile. I am just a man.

Admittedly, that is probably not the best way to start out what is essentially a detailed confession, especially for someone currently sitting in the Stillwater Unit of the Minnesota State Penitentiary, but as I’ve already been tried and convicted, I feel quite strongly that I need to explain, to present the facts so that those I’ve hurt, those I’ve wronged, and those who wonder how I could be such a vile human being, understand how it all happened. And why. Please understand that this is not an attempt to excuse my behavior, but to explain it.

Two years ago I was forty-three years of age, living out my life in what can only be described as the doldrums. My job as an insurance adjuster was a dead end, my wife and I were living paycheck to paycheck, and my marriage was lackluster. I will admit that each of these problems were my fault. I’ve never been terribly ambitious, nor fiscally prudent, and while my wife was certainly a sweet and gentle person, her own lack of passion caused whatever spark had originally been there when we were young to peter out. Life, at least for me, had become a sort of circular repetition of events. Wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, eat dinner (usually alone since everyone wanted to watch their own show while they ate,) surf the internet, go to bed. 

I also have a daughter. Her name is Emily. And no… I did not assault her in any form, sexually or otherwise, despite what some people assumed from the press reports. But she is an integral part of this story. My daughter is beautiful, caring, and passionate, as only young people can be. She is interested in sports and is a bit of a tomboy, which helped me to connect with her. But as she started eighth grade, her life became more intricately wrapped up in her social circles and I was content to let her disappear into her room more and more. I spent my evenings on the computer, staying up late as my wife Jenny went to bed early, until I was the only one awake. 

Did I look at porn? Of course I did. Who doesn’t? But was it child pornography? Of course not. Was it probably a little heavy on the BDSM side of things? Yes. I admit it. But it wasn’t like I was getting off on the really dark stuff. I just liked a little bit of spanking and bondage. Nothing truly sadistic. In hindsight, I wish I’d behaved a little differently. Maybe if I’d gone into the bedroom, playfully tied my wife to the bed and ravished her, I wouldn’t have been so receptive to what was essentially going to ruin my life. Maybe if I’d focused on improving my career, I wouldn’t have had the time to pay any attention to the temptation. Maybe if life hadn’t been so boring, I wouldn’t have felt my pulse quicken. But frankly, I doubt it. Because Yuki was not the kind of girl you ignore.

Yuki. Japanese American. Perfect English with no accent. Long black hair, huge eyes, porcelain doll’s face. Overly large breasts. Exactly what you would think of when looking for a picture perfect and pornographic Japanese schoolgirl. I remember the first time Emily brought her home. “To study,” I think, was the excuse. Both girls came in that afternoon and I looked up from my little home-office desk, looked at Emily quizzically, as was my wont when she brought a stranger into the house, and I received a polite introduction.

“Hi Dad,” Emily said, gesturing at her companion. “This is Yuki. She’s in most of the same classes as me. We’re going to study.” 

I looked over at Yuki and yes, I did think she was pretty. But nothing stirred within me. I didn’t feel some animalistic lust encouraging me to go over there and ravish a fourteen-year-old girl. But I did notice that she was going to be an amazingly beautiful woman. Hell, she was already most of the way there. She was as curvy as a mountain road and she filled out her shirt with a bust that made my wife’s bosom look undersized. Yuki’s hips were wide and her legs perfect. And there was something about the way she looked at me, a teasing smirk on her face…

I blinked. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yuki.” I said it in a pleasant, but dismissive tone. Because, come on… she was fourteen. The idea of exploring her body was similar to eating an under ripe banana. Sure, the shape is correct, but that thing needs to sit on the shelf for a while before being ready to eat. Yuck.

And that's it. I paid Yuki no further mind. The girls disappeared into Emily’s bedroom and I went back to my computer with nary a thought. I didn’t fantasize about Yuki. I didn’t imagine tying her to my bed, or exploring every curve with my hands. I didn’t dream of laying her out naked on a blanket in the park and running my tongue through her sweet, little pussy. Not even a little. And that night, after my family had gone to bed, the porn I’d watched all had very legal, real, adult women. Ripe bananas. 

Over the next two months, Yuki became a frequent feature in our small apartment. For the first few weeks it was just afternoon and evening visits. Emily and Yuki clearly had hit it off and their shared interests made for some strange laughter and weird musical interludes coming from my daughter’s bedroom. Still, I had no part in any of it. I barely communicated with Yuki and I stayed off to myself. Hell, my wife had more interaction with the Asian beauty. Eventually afternoon study became “can Yuki stay for dinner?” and even then I still barely communicated with her. Instead I listened, but as a parent. Yuki was articulate, intelligent, and sweet. She seemed good for Emily, despite my daughter’s increasing adoration of the girl. I kept my distance. I’m not sure why. Maybe I was scared of something being misconstrued. Or maybe, even then, there was something in the back of my mind, something about Yuki that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. 

After a few dinner evenings, Emily eventually asked if Yuki could spend the night. My wife granted permission and I basically checked out. I stayed at my computer and ignored the two teeny-boppers in their pajamas and nightgowns as my wife dished up popcorn and they stayed up and watched a movie. Nothing happened. Eventually I went to bed and I can tell you that I didn’t dream of cute little Asian girls that night. 

Another month went by and my daughter’s friendship with Yuki was firmly cemented. For me, it meant that Emily was happy, which was a good thing. But other than that, Yuki had very little impact on me. We were polite to each other. Respectful. And that was that. So I put her out of my mind. I went back to my habits: staying up late, surfing the internet, and once I was sure everyone was asleep, browsing a bit of porn. 

And then I got the first email,

I had no idea who it was from. It was nothing but letters and numbers for a return address. At first, I thought it was some sort of spam, or phishing email, especially because there was a hyperlink included. But… the words seemed too personal. And the writer used my name.

“Hello Mr. Williams. I’ve been thinking about you so much. So I made a video. I hope you like it!” The hyperlink led to a website that I was familiar with. It was a very common pornographic video sharing site, which admittedly minimized the risk of catching some computer problem. I agonized over it for a moment. Take a risk and click on the link? I could end up downloading something infectious. Still, I had a robust anti-virus and the link looked legit. I even googled it. Just to double check. Flinching, I selected the link and followed it. 

The video was amateurish, clearly taken with a cell phone. The lighting was dark and the room blurry, but in seconds my cock hardened as I watched. A pair of cute toes appeared at the end of some very attractive legs. The woman holding the phone was wearing a nightgown, a rather sexy number made of silk and to my increasing delight, she slowly pulled it upward, higher and higher, until her cute little pussy was exposed. Her petals were shaved, but she had a dark, black, well-trimmed bush above her sex that made me think of Asian girls. I watched with increasing interest as she spread her legs wide, pointing her toes, only to begin rubbing her hand through her own slit. 

As far as masturbation videos go, this one was relatively vanilla. Still, there was something raw about it. Real. And the soft whimpers coming from the woman’s throat made it all the more enticing. The nightgown was lifted even higher, baring her huge breasts, two soft globes of sweet flesh that just begged to be oiled and kneaded. But then, what happened next shocked me. 

The girl in the video said my name. 

I had to pause it and rewind it of course. But sure enough, during one of her moans, she clearly said “Oh, Mr. Williams! I wish you would do me!” 

I sat back in my chair, more than a little flabbergasted. I mean, sure. I watched a lot of porn. But who the hell was this lady? And how would she know my name? Was it someone at work? I tried to compare the physical attributes I was seeing to the various women I knew and for obvious reasons I came up short. Granted I could see most of this girl’s naked body, but she never showed her face. And she was laying down. So I had no idea how tall she was. She had the curves of a woman. She was touching herself in a very adult fashion. My mind raced and I found my hand stroking my engorged penis until both she and I had cum in suitably wet and sultry fashions.

Biting my lip, I downloaded the video. I wanted to keep it. Why had the model used my name? Was it some sort of direct marketing scheme?

I took a breath and watched the video again, this time without my libido interfering. I tried to pay attention to more than just the naked beauty on the screen. That left me just as confused as to her identity as before. She never really showed the room she was in. All I could tell was that she was lying on a bed. Finally I opened up my email again, hit reply, and typed out a short note.

“What an amazing video! You are truly gorgeous! Wish I could see more! Who are you?” Then I hit send. For the next two or three days I must have watched that video twenty times. It was only like nine minutes long. Each viewing left me hard as my imagination ran away with the possibilities, but I can tell you that I felt different. Engaged. Energized. Some woman out there wanted me. Me! Of all people! I checked my email constantly, each time disappointed when there was no reply. On day four I started to come down to earth, thinking maybe it was all a fluke. And then that evening, I got another email. With another video link.

It was her again. Again the room was nearly dark, with only one light source off camera. But it illuminated her body completely. She was lying on a twin sized bed, the walls white washed and unremarkable. Both of her pretty little feet were propped up against a plain, wooden headboard and the dildo she was holding in one hand made my jaw drop. It was huge. At least compared to her. She moved the camera down by her hip to give me the best possible view as she rubbed the tip of the rubber phallus between the petals of her sex and she must have already been ripe because the damn thing went in so easily that I gasped. Her soft moans intensified as she began fucking herself, toes curling as she stabbed her pussy over and over. 

And I realized she was moaning my name. Over and over.

“Mr. Williams! Oh yes… please… fuck me hard, Mr. Williams!” 

I watched in rapture as this woman, first slowly, then with speed, impaled herself on a rubber shaft that must have been twice the size of my dick. It was erotic and personal and sweet and amazing. Still amateurish. But do you think I cared? I was getting a close up shot of her incredible slit, spread wide as she screwed herself with a thick rubber cock! Hell, I could hear the squelching noise of her pussy juice as her hips rolled with each thrust. It turned me on and I found myself masturbating to the video, then watching it for a second and third time. 

But, like the first video, there was nothing revealing. I mean, other than her nudity. She again did not show her face, in fact she didn’t even show her breasts in this second video. The bare walls beside her did nothing to help me place her, and I even studied her legs and feet, looking for a birthmark or a freckle that might help me identify her. Nothing. I downloaded the video and went back to her email. I saw a message underneath the link.

“I’m glad you like me! I like you too! I wish this was your cock in me. I bet it feels better than the rubber one,” I read. I blinked. Damn straight it would feel better! I took a deep breath and began typing. A little part of me knew that what I was doing crossed a line. At least a line with my marriage. 

“I know it would feel better. Want me to come and fuck you? Just tell me who you are! Take a picture and send it to me!” 

I hit send and I sat back. I felt a little guilty. I’d never, not once, betrayed my marriage vows, or at least I didn’t see it that way. I suppose a strict interpretation would take into account my pornography habit, but I’d never had sex with another woman after marrying Jenny. I told myself that I would see who it was first. Maybe she would show me her face in the next video? I shook my head. I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. I was just excited about the prospect. Maybe I even lied to myself, just a little. That when push came to shove I’d do the noble thing.

In hindsight, I was also feeling a certain amount of sexual animosity toward my wife. Jenny was a wonderful woman: sweet, kind and caring. But she is a prude and about as sexy as a rock. Her idea of a strip tease was to take off her clothes as fast as possible and slip between the sheets, complaining that she was cold. Her idea of foreplay was a dry rub and she was totally unwilling to try alternative positions. Missionary was her thing, with me on top. Hell, half the time we made love she didn’t even orgasm and I would play fantasies in my head as I fucked her. We could go weeks without touching each other in a sexual manner. I’d always gotten the impression that sex was a chore for her. Would she even mind if I went looking for satisfaction elsewhere?

At least, that’s what I asked myself. It was undoubtedly dishonest, and perhaps even a little evil. I still feel awful about it. She deserved better from me. 

The next day I got a new email, complete with attachment. I opened it up to find a picture. The girl was standing in a plain, white bathroom, in front of the mirror. She wasn’t naked. Instead she was wearing this sexy babydoll. My God, her breasts! I could see the soft, pink nipples through the ivory colored lace. The only negative was that except for the tips of her black colored hair lying loosely on her shoulders, there was no face. She’d done another body shot, making sure I couldn’t identify her.

“You are incredibly beautiful. Wish I could see your face,” I wrote back to her. The next day came another email. This time she was outside, in some woods. Her clothing was askew, her short skirt pulled up to show off her panties, which were down around her thighs. Her slit was perfectly in view, wet and glistening, and it looked like she had something in it, like a vibrator. Well, damn!

“Who are you? I have to know!” I wrote back, dutifully saving the photo. 

For the next week, picture after picture arrived in my email box. All of them staged, all of them erotic, all of them enticing, and not one of them showing a single identifying mark. I never saw her face, at least not directly. In one I caught a blurry glimpse in a window, reflecting her image, but nothing that would give me a clue to her identity. Everything I knew about her was circumstantial. I knew she was short, probably only five feet tall, or a bit under. I knew she had dark, almost black hair. And I knew she was young. Her skin was too flawless. But other than that? She was a mystery.

I was smitten. Why wouldn’t I be? And while my own personal flame blossomed and grew, my family’s lives went on. My wife Jenny watched her shows and Emily studied and played and invited her friend Yuki over. Me? I waited breathlessly for the next video and the daily pictures. 

I know this comes as a surprise, but I didn’t connect the two. And I’ll be honest, Yuki barely spoke to me. She kept her eyes averted. She smiled and did this sort of bow, but then she and Emily would disappear into my daughter’s bedroom and I wouldn’t see them again. This went on for two or three months. I focused on the steadily growing cache of dirty pictures and video, while my daughter’s relationship with Yuki grew. 

Three months after that first email arrived I had almost twenty videos and over a hundred pictures. None of them told me who my secret admirer was, but considering the various sexual things she taped herself doing, I had little doubt in my mind that this woman was experienced, creative, daring, and sexy as hell. One video had her masturbating in a public park, fucking herself with one leg propped up on the bench, her cute little feet in a pair of simple sandals. Another had her fucking herself with an assortment of fruit and vegetables, from a banana to a zucchini. One video of her was an upskirt sort of thing, where she changed outfits in a dressing room. I caught glimpses of her face, but not in focus. Mostly I got to see her wet slit and the fact that there was some sort of weighted and vibrating clamp hanging from her clitoris. 

The pictures? Dear lord. The girl was clearly a fan of outdoor nudity. I had shots of her flashing her tits or pussy while standing between cars in a parking lot. I had shots of her lying on blankets, spread out on the grass. I had photos of her hanging clothespins on her tits and then taking a picture of her reflection in a store window! I put together a slideshow of her shots and would watch them, over and over again until I…

“Charles?” 

My head snapped up from the computer and I looked up to see Jenny. She gave me a soft smile. “You seem far away. Everything okay?” 

I nodded and grinned. “Yeah. Of course. What’s up?” I asked.

Jenny shrugged. “Emily asked if Yuki could spend the night again. Are you okay with that?”

I shrugged. It was immaterial to me. “Whatever,” I said amiably. “It doesn’t bother me. You’re the one who has to deal with teenage drama.” 

Jenny laughed. “They’re just fourteen,” she reminded me. “It will be worse once boys are involved.”

I nodded sagely. “I’ll buy a shotgun,” I assured her jokingly. Jenny came over, kissed me on the top of the head, and then walked away. 

The rest of the evening was a dull blur. I sat at my desk. I ate dinner and watched a show. And when my wife finally went to bed, I listened out for the girls, until the light in Emily’s room turned off too. I opened my folder full of the videos, of photos, and pulled the waistband of my basketball shorts down enough to get my cock out. I had only barely begun to satisfy myself when I got the email that would change everything.

It was from her. My mysterious woman. I gulped and opened it. She’d only written “open right now!” next to the hyperlink and I did as told. It was another video, except I was astonished to see the words “Live” in the top right hand corner. I blinked. I was watching her! Right then and there! My heart leapt into my throat and I admit that my hand might have gone up and down a few times on my cock. I saw her bare little feet standing next to what looked like a mattress on the floor. Blankets. She was wearing a nightgown, a pretty little thing of cotton and I watched with a groan as she drew it upward, exposing her sweet little pussy once more. Her fingers dipped in and she gave me a close up shot of her rubbing those soft petals until glistening moisture appeared on the folds. To my shock, the phone followed her hand up to her face, showing me her chin and cheeks, but not her eyes, as she sucked her own juices right off her hand.

I didn’t have time to process the flashes of background. Besides, the light was dismal. She was clearly in a mostly dark room, with only some sort of night light illuminating her gorgeous body. I licked my lips as the phone spun and I realized she was taking off the nightgown. Then I saw it, puddled on the floor next to the mattress. She let me see her body again, from the neck down. Perfect, glorious nudity, her breasts huge and enticing. Then she took a few steps. I watched, entranced, as she went to the door of the room, naked. It opened and a bit more light spilled out. I rubbed my cock, wondering what was going to happen. Was she finally going to show me her face? What crazy sex game was she going to play next? She turned to the left in the video, the light increasing, until I realized she was standing in a larger, carpeted room. The camera panned away from her sweet, naked body and for the first time I got a look at her surroundings. 

I blinked, the room looked… familiar. There was a sofa, a television, then a dining room table, and in the back, a sort of home-office. A blue light illuminated someone, someone sitting at the desk, staring in rapt attention. She walked toward him, purposefully, and a flash of terror hit me as I realized I was looking at myself.

My head snapped up and there she was. 

Yuki was fucking gorgeous. And fucking naked. She held her phone up, the camera pointed straight at me, my shocked expression captured permanently. We stared at each other and she lowered the phone, pointing the camera back at herself. She didn’t say anything, but damn if she didn’t look down at my exposed cock. I froze, too unsure, too appalled, too shocked to do anything. Instead she gave me a small, submissive smile, stepped up to me, and knelt. 

And took my cock in her hand.

Compared to her fingers, my manhood was huge. But the electric sensation I got from having her sweet little palm grasping my dick was like none I’d ever known. And then, before I could even process that sensation, she bent down and opened her mouth, sucking the tip of my shaft down her throat as if she were a veteran cock sucker. I groaned, quietly of course, as this waif of a girl gobbled my dick, slurping and bobbing her head. In seconds I was near climax and she nodded, eyes wide and staring up at me, as if every fiber of her being was begging to be drenched in my jism.

My explosion was impressive, matched by her voracious ability to suck almost every drop of it down and as I sighed in relief, slumping into my office chair, she stayed right there between my legs, sucking on my softening shaft. It felt amazing. 

But then the reality of what just happened hit me. I had just gotten a blowjob from a fourteen year-old girl. Granted, a really, really good blowjob, but a blowjob nonetheless. In any state of the Union, that would constitute sexual assault of a minor. Never mind the fact that she initiated it. My mind gibbered at the thought of it. 

She must have sensed my unease, because she rose up, climbing into my lap. Her bare bottom pressed against my flaccid penis and she twisted, her mouth coming down on mine, her hand grabbing my wrist and bringing it up to her breast. I know I should have dumped her onto the floor right then, but my willpower seemed to dribble away, the terror replaced by a sexual awe.  I felt the amazing rondure of her bosom, the bump of her nipple against my palm, and I was suddenly swept away by the intensity of her sexual need. She spread her legs and pushed my hand down between her thighs, until my fingers were in her pussy, rubbing as she undulated against my body. Her own orgasm was nothing more than a shudder, along with a high-pitched whimper, until she slumped against me, panting heavily. 

Then she stood up.

“Yuki,” I whispered, still horrified, her girl goo coating my fingers. She turned, smiled and took my hand. She drew it up to her face and sucked her own cum right off my skin. 

“You were just like I thought you’d be,” she said softly. “Another video tomorrow.” Then she picked her phone up off the floor and walked away. I heard the door of my daughter’s bedroom opening this time and then I glanced back at the computer. The video… the video was still playing and I saw my daughter’s bedroom. Yuki videotaped herself getting dressed. And then, this time showing me her face, stared at me directly, before blowing me a kiss.

I turned off the computer.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. What had I just done?

I lifted my hand to my nose. It smelled like her. For a moment, I didn’t know what to do. A thousand responses rushed through me. Slowly, I stood up, then went and showered, scrubbing myself clean.

But while I eliminated the physical evidence of our tryst, the emotional turmoil Yuki had left me in was beyond the pale. I could barely sleep and the next morning I made some excuse to my wife, managing to leave early before I had to face my daughter’s friend at the breakfast table. I ricocheted around town for hours, mostly thinking, before my phone chirped and I saw the email.

I half expected a blackmail letter. “Money, or I’ll give the video of us to the police.” But instead I found another link to the porn site. I followed it, half sick with fear. Did the porn site know they were hosting videos of a fourteen year old girl? Probably not. She was undoubtedly posting them herself. My mouth went dry as I once more saw Yuki, this time in her own bedroom, splayed out on her bed, legs spread, fucking one of her dildos. And this time, I could see her face. I closed my eyes, only to realize that my cock was hard again. She said something and I turned up the volume, rewinding it back through a series of whimpers until she glanced at the camera. 

“I want your cock in my pussy next time,” she said earnestly. 

I watched until she exploded, her sex squirting wetly and suddenly I could remember her scent, the softness of her skin, the sweet nubile quality of her body. I closed my eyes in self-loathing. How could I want the forbidden fruit? How could I desire it? She was a banana – an under ripe banana, damn it!

But… but she wasn’t. Oh my God, she wasn’t under ripe. She had blossomed early. She was a woman. With a woman’s body. With a woman’s desires. Never mind her tender age, or the fact that she wasn’t old enough to appreciate an alcoholic beverage. Suddenly I wanted her even more. I wanted to plunge my cock into her open slit. I wanted to slip my tongue between her folds. I wanted to taste her and fuck her and ride her and bend her and even tie her up. Not to hurt her of course, or force her. But to leave her quivering in helplessness as I brought her to climax, over and over, sating my own perverted desire in her perfect wetness. 

I closed down the web-browser and deleted the email. No. I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. I shook my head. Forbidden fruit. She was jailbait. She was dangerous. She was poison ivy. I took a deep breath and headed to the bar.

She sent almost a dozen pictures of herself that afternoon. I heard and saw each email as it arrived. I deleted each one, resisting the temptation to open them. It would be weeks before I saw the picture of her standing naked in front of the mirror, “fuck me hard, Mr. Williams” scrawled in magic marker across her stomach. Backward no less, so that I could read it. I missed her selfie, breasts bared, with her leaning on a fence, both tits resting on the rail enticingly. I didn’t see the short video of her showering, her huge bare breasts pressed against the glass. 

And I didn’t see the video of us. She didn’t post that one, thank God. She just sent it to me direct. 

When I got home I hurried up to my wife. “Is Emily’s friend still here?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Yuki?” Asked Jenny. “No. She left around ten this morning. Is everything alright?” 

I nodded and smiled woodenly. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. Just feeling a little delicate. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

My wife looked sympathetic. “Oh. Okay. Want to take a nap?”

I nodded. “I just might do that.” 

She leaned over and gave me a kiss. I felt awful. 

“Go rest,” she said kindly.

I went to bed and fell asleep, my insides knotted up. 



*** 



I didn’t even check my personal email for over a week, but I heard the steady, non-stop chirp of her missives. I must have gotten forty something messages, each one chock full of photos of Yuki in various states of nudity and sexual activity. I felt awful for a variety of reasons. The first was horror at what I’d done. But the next was my fears for how Yuki would feel about my lack of response. Would she be angry? Would she take the photos and video of our encounter to her parents, or the police? I expected squad cars to show up at work, or worse – at home, and my nerves became frayed. My work sort of faltered and my supervisor finally asked me what the hell my problem was. 

And then the situation was taken out of my hands. It was a Saturday afternoon, just after lunch and I was sitting there at my desk when Emily walked into the apartment, Yuki in tow. 

Our eyes met for a moment and I sat there, frozen in panic. She looked across the living room at me and the smile that crossed her face was warm and friendly. And then she turned and followed my daughter back to Emily’s bedroom. 

For the next four hours I sat in near panic, tense and frightened. Sure enough, Emily asked my wife if Yuki could stay the night. I wanted to object. I wanted to refuse. I wanted to run. And God forgive me… I wanted both of us to stay. And as dinner came and went, and as my wife turned in, I opened my “trash” file and selected the first of the ignored emails Yuki had sent me. 

“I know you’re scared. That’s okay. I know you like me.”

“I want to feel you inside me. I can only imagine how good it will be.”

“All I have is these toys. Please? Can you make me feel good?

“Don’t you wish this was you?” 

“I’m imagining your hands touching me again. Put your fingers in me.”

“I wonder what your mouth on my nipple would feel like.”

“I want to ride you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want to please you.”

The pictures? Well, um… yes. Each one was beyond perverted, and now Yuki had no qualms about showing her face. She must have sent almost a hundred pictures of herself to me. My mouth went dry. My cock was hard as a rock. I shifted uncomfortably, struggling with my conscience and libido. And I waited.

It was after ten when I got the next email. “Emily is asleep now and happy,” she wrote. Another picture was attached. Yuki, standing naked in front of my own sleeping daughter. I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to look. I heard the soft noise of a door and when I turned, Yuki was standing in the living room, her gloriously naked body glowing with health and beauty and need. She held her phone and I knew she was recording. But suddenly I didn’t care. I was already doomed, wasn’t I? 

 She came straight at me and set the phone against my computer, the camera pointed at us. She reached down, pulling my shorts off and I lifted up so that she could get them down. This time she didn’t go to her knees, instead climbing into my lap, her chest pressed into my face. The softness of it was glorious and I felt her wetness against my penis, a hot slippery warmth that threatened to engulf me. She thrust against my loins, rubbing and pressing and her hips twisted, her hand dipping between us, repositioning the tip of my cock, until it slid between her petals. I gasped, the word “no” forming on my mouth, but I was already lost. Her hot cunt surrounded my cock and she let out a soft gasp, pumping rhythmically against me, our bodies already entwined. I kissed her and she mewled as we fucked, her body pulsing against mine. 

“Yes,” she whispered, throwing her head back. “Take me. Use me. Want me.”

And I did all those things. Suddenly the chair was insufficient and I lifted her bodily and took her to the floor. I lay atop her, thrusting against her tiny body, pressing my chest against her breasts, my powerful hips against her loins, and I pushed myself into her wet and wanting depths. 

When I was close to exploding I yanked myself out, streams of cum shooting out across Yuki’s belly and breasts. She looked up at me, eyes wide, panting. She ran her fingers through the cream and licked at them, smiling. I stared down at her in shock, unbelieving at my own actions. 

“Yuki,” I whispered hoarsely. She sat up and pressed her forefinger to my lips, shaking her head. “Use your fingers,” she said simply. And then she laid back down. Except this time she spread her legs. And I mean spread. Wide. Apart. So wide that she was almost doing the splits. A fresh surge of surprised lust shot through me. I suddenly knew exactly what to do. I bent down and put my mouth on her sex.

I know it surprised her, because her gasp was loud. But from the way her back arched and the pressure she used pressing upward against my mouth made it very clear that she’d rarely, if ever experienced such pleasure. I sucked her clit and ran my tongue down each fold until she was quivering beneath me. I lifted my hands up her body until I found her tits and with my thumb and forefingers, pinched each nipple lightly, bending the tips around and twisting just enough to set her trembling. She brought a hand up to her mouth, covering her lips as the small cries of pleasure came out. 

When she came, I drank her down, only to find myself hard again, my erection stiff against the carpet. I rose up and even with her eyes dazed, I loomed over her and once more drove myself hard and deep into her welcoming hole. I pounded her hard, grunting as I once more massaged my cock with her grasping cunt. I clenched my jaw as the orgasm rushed out of me, and once more I pulled my cock out, my hand rubbing it as another stream of cum squirt from me, splattering Yuki. 

She sat up and to my shock, wrapped her mouth around my cock. I was softening quickly, but the pleasure of her mouth made me groan and I fell to the side. She knelt over me, her skin slick with my jism, until I pushed her off.

“Yuki,” I said softly. She looked up at me, a beaming smile on her face. “I’m too old for you.”

She shook her head. “You are what I want. What I need.” She grinned. “Needed.” With a deep breath, she rose to her feet. Then, much to my consternation, bowed. “Thank you,” she said softly, and with that she picked up her phone from my desk, then walked away. I heard a door shut and when the shower started up, I realized she’d gone into my daughter’s bathroom. 

I blinked. Holy shit. I stood up and found my boxers and shorts. I reeked of sex and I went back to my computer. For a moment, I stared at the screen. The little minx was videotaping her shower and streaming it live, right to me! I watched as she smeared soap over her breasts, washing away our combined fluids. 

She gave me a last smile and blew me a kiss, before disappearing back into my daughter’s bedroom and ended the stream. 

I sat there, stunned. Then, I slipped into my bedroom, saw my wife asleep, and went to the bathroom. And showered.

The next morning I stayed. I didn’t avoid seeing Yuki and I was astonished that other than a shy smile, she paid no obvious interest in me. I was able to behave normally, or at least with a semblance of normalcy, and if Jenny was suspicious she didn’t show it. Even Emily seemed to be oblivious to her friend’s late-night antics. 

And life went on.

After Yuki went home, I got more pictures and videos from her, each one just as wickedly perverted as those I’d already received. Yuki bent over, showing off her sweet little ass. Yuki in high heels and nothing else. Yuki posing naked, surrounded by stuffed animals. Yuki in a little school girl outfit, but with the plaid skirt pulled up to show off her pussy. Yuki stuffed to the brim with a dildo. Yuki eating a popsicle, followed by Yuki fucking it. For a whole week it was like she did nothing but pose for me. 

I wrote back to her and I’m ashamed to say that my emails sounded more like a juvenile delinquent than a grown man. How do you tell a fourteen year old girl that she is the breath of fresh air your life needs? Or how do you tell her you find her beautiful? Were she grown I’d be asking her out for a drink. Instead, the best I’d be able to do was take her for an ice cream!

And God help me, I wanted to fuck her again. 

The next week was a blur and my written messages got more graphic. I wrote about the things I wanted to do to her. I wanted to rub baby oil over her body. I wanted to have her astride me. I wanted to fuck her outside. I wanted to make her cum with my mouth and fingers multiple times. I wanted to picnic with her naked, dipping little bits of fruit into her honeypot. I wanted to cover her with powdered sugar and lick it all off. The very next picture she sent was off her tits covered in a dusting of what was either baby powder, or sugar. She loved my ideas and offered herself up enthusiastically.

I hope you get the point. I was smitten. I was flustered. I was shocked. Here was this incredibly sexy, amazingly passionate, physically beautiful girl who wanted me. I felt manly. I felt powerful. Suddenly my work improved. My life felt energized and beautiful. I got the items on my wife’s honey-do list done. I helped Emily with her homework. I finally got around to making a budget. The emails flew and each night I sat in my chair, desperate for Yuki’s next video. Hell, I started working out, wanting to be worthy of Yuki’s sexual attention. 

Emily asked if Yuki could spend that Friday night with us and my wife was hesitant. For a moment I panicked. Had Jenny sensed what was going on between her husband and daughter’s best friend? Had she inadvertently seen something? Had my behavior tipped off my wife? 

“Please Mom?” Emily begged. My wife glanced at me, not in accusation, but looking for support. I shrugged, trying to make it look like I didn’t care. She sighed.

“Alright. But not every weekend, okay? Yuki is a wonderful girl and a perfect guest, but we still need some family time,” Jenny said warmly. Emily beamed up at her. 

“Of course! Maybe next week I can spend the night at her place!” 

And my heart skipped a beat. I felt lightheaded. Another clandestine meeting. 

Like the other nights, Yuki showed me no specific interest while Jenny and Emily were around. My wife went to bed early, just as she always did, and Emily and Yuki disappeared into my daughter’s room, where I heard them laughing and giggling and obviously doing what teenage girls do. 

I watched a show to kill time, and then a little later, rewatched some of Yuki’s videos. Each passing minute caused my blood to boil and all I could think of was grabbing Yuki’s cute little ass, spanking those sweet cheeks, and then burying my nose in her pussy. As my eyes flickered on the screen, staring intently at another video of a thick dildo being driven deep into Yuki’s cunt, I set aside the last remnants of guilt and decided to embrace my good fortune. 

And yes. That makes me a bad person. It’s why I pled guilty from the start. I knew it was wrong and did it anyway.

When Yuki came that third night, her phone was already out, taping, and I fell on her like a hungry lion going after a gazelle. I licked her breasts and belly. I lapped at her clit and ran my tongue through her petals. I pressed into her, until she whimpered with need, her own lusts running counterpoint to mine. And when I took her, one of her bare little feet raised up in the air, her body laying upon the couch with me impaling her deeply, I only vaguely recognized the fact that she was recording our session with a sort of self-destructive eagerness. 

And still, I orgasmed. As did she, and we lay entwined in sticky, sexual heaven, panting as our hearts raced and our bodies trembled. Then, once more, she disengaged, kissed me deeply, and disappeared to shower, before returning to my daughter’s bedroom. 

When Yuki left the next morning, we didn’t say a word to each other, but I’d already emailed her. It wasn’t enough, especially if my wife wasn’t going to let her come over every weekend. Plus I needed her somewhere else, where I could truly enjoy her fruits without being paranoid that my wife would wake and come out and find us. Or that Emily would get up to use the bathroom, only to find her best friend fucking her dad. I made plans. I told her I wanted her on Sunday afternoon. 

She said yes.

Our arrangements were complicated. Obviously I couldn’t pick her up at her house. In fact, I didn’t even know where she lived and I wasn’t about to ask Emily. I knew it couldn’t be that far away. I made excuses about meeting a friend after church (yes, I see the irony there,) I climbed into my car, drove around for twenty minutes randomly, then pulled over into a convenience store parking lot only a block from our apartment complex. 

And Yuki was waiting.

She was dressed in a short mini-skirt and a halter top that left little to the imagination and I was frankly shocked. She looked like a teenage hooker and to be honest, it was the first time she literally looked her age, despite the whorish clothing. My face turned beet red as she got into the car and I glanced around, scared to death someone was going to call the police and report me picking up a prostitute, an under-age one at that. I licked my lips nervously as she settled in beside me, an adoring look on her face. She put her hand in my lap, her fingers stroking my cock through my jeans, and I admit that I was already hard as a rock. I put the car in gear and drove two miles further, and parked in the lot of a cheap motel.

“I’ll be right back,” I promised her. It took me only ten minutes to get checked in and collect the room key. Then I went back to the car, drove around to the back side of the building, and opened the door for her. She went straight to the bed and threw herself back on it, propping herself up on her elbows with a look of pure desire on her face. I set the bag I’d brought on the vanity, and I pulled the bag of powdered sugar out. Yuki laughed. 

“You don’t think I’m sweet enough?” She teased me. 

I grinned. “I think I want to pleasure you until you’re screaming.”

“Make me scream, Mr. Williams.”

I sighed. “Charles. You can call me Charles.”

She shook her head. “I have to respect my elders. You are Mr. Williams.” She stood up, came over to me, and pulled me and my sugar to the bed. 

In hindsight, I don’t recommend powdered sugar. It’s a fucking mess. But damn it, the sex was delicious!

For three hours I twisted Yuki into a pretzel and fucked her brains out. We took two showers. When I was unable to get my forty something year old cock to rise, I used a dildo on her, making her cum over and over. Free from having to remain quiet, Yuki let out a series of high-pitched squeals, moans, and cries that at first alarmed me, but then became a sort of perfect background to the various sexually charged activities we were engaged in. It sounded like she was resisting, but in reality, she was insatiable, hungry for cock, and liked nothing more than to have my thick, solid member buried deeply in her cunt. 

I ordered food to be delivered and we ate naked, then fucked one last time before I finally told her to get dressed. We held hands as I drove her back to the convenience store and when it was time to part, she leaned over and kissed me. 

“More,” was all she said. Then I watched her walk away. 

The next day I got another link to a video. In this one, she was slowly pushing a narrow set of anal beads into her bottom. It shocked me. How perverted! How kinky! At the end, she looked straight at the camera and winked at me. The next day I got pictures throughout the day. She was clearly at school, but there were multiple up skirt shots of her panti-less ass, clearly still stuffed, the purple silicone beads fully embedded. I masturbated that night to her video, and the pictures, enraptured with her eagerness. 

The week progressed and Yuki showed up twice – afterschool study, but went home when Jenny announced that it was dinner time. I never said a word to her, and in fact, I deliberately didn’t look at her, scared that Jenny would sense something. Instead I went back to my computer and tried to figure out another way to meet Yuki without causing problems. 

The sad reality was that my life was scripted. I went to work, came home, ate dinner with my family, played on the computer, watched a few shows, and then went to bed. If I deviated too much, my wife would have gotten suspicious. So I tried to show Yuki how much I wanted to be with her. I wrote long emails, describing my feelings for her, how I thought she was beautiful, and before long, I wrote the words that would be my downfall.

I told her I loved her.

Sitting here in my jail cell, I am able to recognize the deceit. How can a grown man love a girl who isn’t even fifteen? How could I love a girl who was the same age as my own daughter? How could I have any kind of meaningful relationship with a child? We shared one passion – the physical perfection of our sexual union. Everything else was a mere charade. Had I been thinking straight, had I not been getting what amounted to a sexual invitation every few hours, I might have thought it out. What the hell did I think was going to happen? Would I be her secret boyfriend until she turned eighteen, only to then divorce my wife and live with Yuki in some sort of happily ever after dream? Would we have children together, providing Emily with a half brother or sister? And how would I explain this to my parents – that I’d set Jenny aside for a girl who wasn’t half my age, but a mere third of it? For God’s sake, I’d been twenty-nine years old when Yuki was born. 

But I wasn’t thinking straight. How could I? She sent me constant pictures and notes. She sent links to videos. She was pure sexual temptation wrapped up in one package. She was beautiful and passionate and sexy and everything I wanted in a woman. Or at least, what I thought I wanted.

“Mom? Can I spend the night at Yuki’s place?” Emily asked that next Friday afternoon. My wife grinned and nodded. 

“Absolutely honey,” she said sweetly. “Were you invited for dinner too?” Emily nodded happily. “Well then, go pack your things. Don’t forget your toothbrush.” Emily rushed off and my wife gave me a look, her eyebrow arched. “Guess we’re on our own tonight,” she said teasingly. I gave her a look, torn. She had thickened around the waist, and she was no longer the beauty I’d married. I cringed, realizing that having a physical encounter with Jenny was going to be like going from a Lamborghini to a Pinto and I felt a sort of revulsion. I’m not proud of that. Jenny didn’t deserve that. But I knew if I tried to make love to her, that it would be Yuki’s face I saw in my mind. 

I sighed. “She’ll have a good time,” I agreed. Jenny reached out a hand and gave mine a squeeze. It had been over a month since we’d made love and I could tell she wanted to be intimate. I looked away. How could I? Especially now that I’d been banging Yuki? She let go and went to make dinner and I watched from the sofa as Emily came back out, a pack over her shoulder and her pillow tucked under her arm. 

“Walk her over there, Charles?” My wife asked me. 

I looked up and Emily gave me an expectant look. “Uh. Sure,” I said. I stood up and a moment later followed my daughter out the door.

I’d been right. Yuki’s family didn’t live that far away. Emily didn’t even want to drive and she showed me a short cut through an alley that led to the suburban neighborhood behind our apartment complex. Three streets over I found myself on a row of bungalow houses, each one with sculpted landscaping and an extra car in the driveway. I let Emily lead and a moment later I stood in front of a home that was much more than I could have afforded. Emily went right up to the door and rang the bell. 

Yuki answered. She was dressed in gym shorts and a tee shirt and she squealed as she spotted my daughter. They hugged and for a strange second, I thought Yuki was going to kiss Emily. But my daughter moved her head and then Yuki saw me. I gave her a little wave. 

“Hello, Yuki. Are your parents’ here?” I asked politely.

She blinked. “My mother is,” she replied in almost exactly the same tone. “Would you like to come in, sir?” She stepped away from the door as my daughter walked into the house. I stepped into the foyer and stopped, not wanting to intrude. Yuki disappeared with Emily and then a moment later, a very attractive Asian woman stepped into view. She was wearing a cotton blouse and white chinos and despite her being closer to my age, she was intensely beautiful, but more stern looking than her cherub of a daughter.

“Good afternoon,” I said politely. “I’m Charles Williams, Emily’s father.”

“Ikari,” Yuki’s mother said. “Your daughter is a blessing. She is most welcome in our home.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

Ikari returned my smile. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter. She enjoys being over at Emily’s house very much.”

Again came that momentary flash of panic. But with nothing else being said, I inclined my head. “She is the perfect guest. And incredibly polite.” I fished into my pocket and came out with my business card. “If there are any problems, or Emily feels like she wants to come home, if you’ll just give me a call?” I held out the number and Ikari took it.

“Of course. But I don’t foresee any problem,” she assured me. “Emily and Yuki are quite attached.” 

I laughed. “Of course,” I replied. “Well, thank you again. Have a good evening.” I turned and stepped back through the open door and I heard it shut behind me. My heart pounded as I walked away, my mind imagining laying Yuki on the living room floor of her house and screwing her brains out. My cock started to stiffen, but then I realized I was walking back to an apartment where my own wife was waiting. I let out a groan. Right. How to deal with that disaster in the making? 

I hadn’t figured out a damn thing when I opened the door and found my wife cooking. I had half hoped I’d find her standing there wearing nothing but an apron, dancing around enticingly, because that might have been sufficient for me to put aside my fantasies about Yuki. But no, she was still in her yoga pants and long sleeve shirt. She smiled at me. “No issues?” 

I shook my head. “None. Met Yuki’s mother. She seems nice.” 

Jenny nodded. “I know. I met Ikari a couple of weeks ago. She dropped by here before you got home from work.”

“She did?” I asked in surprise. “You didn’t tell me. How long ago?”

Jenny thought back. “Two or three weeks?” She shrugged, stirring the tomato sauce. “I was a little surprised because Yuki had already spent the night a few times with us.” She gave me a knowing look. “A good parent would meet the parents of a friend before letting the girls spend the night. I mean, you never know what could happen.”

I gulped silently. “Right,” I replied. 

She gave me a bright look and cocked her hip. “Hope you’re hungry, big guy.” 

Dinner was good, but quiet and subdued and I know that Jenny’s desire for intercourse, both verbal and coital, was slowly being crushed. About halfway through the meal she gave me a soft smile, reached out her hand and patted mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push. I’ll give you some space.” And before I could reply, she picked up her plate and disappeared into the bedroom. I cringed emotionally. I knew she’d sit down at her writing desk, her tablet propped up in front of her, so she could watch one of her shows. But I still sighed in relief, still feeling like shit. I finished eating and with a massive surge of guilt motivating me, I cleaned the kitchen. 

When Jenny came out, she found the dishes done and she gushed about how wonderful I was. How amazing. The relief and pleasure in her eyes made me feel even worse and I smiled woodenly, hurting. Then she kissed me passionately, and when I barely responded, she placed her hand on my head, seemed to say a prayer, and then turned and went to bed. Maybe she thought I had erectile dysfunction or something and didn’t want to embarrass me.

I went to my computer. 

In minutes I was rubbing my own cock, watching videos of Yuki. I had a file folder full of images and I scrolled through them, watching and dreaming. I wished she and Emily were sleeping at the apartment. Finally, I pushed myself over the edge, cumming in a wet, messy spurt that drenched my hand. Slowly I sighed in relief, then stood up, walking over to the kitchen with my cock hanging out, to clean up. Just as I was drying my hands and using the paper towel to mop up the last little bit of cum from my cock, my phone chirped.

An email? From Yuki? I went back to my desk and opened the email on the computer. Her message was simple. Concise. “I wish it were you,” she had written, including another hyperlink. It was to her livestream. Excited, I grinned as I clicked on the link and a new window opened.

It was Yuki’s face and she was staring into the camera. Her cheeks were flushed and I could tell she was breathing a bit faster than normal, mostly because I was intimately familiar with her expressions during intercourse. She let out a soft moan, eyes half closing and her body seemed to move in rhythmic waves. She moved the phone away from her just a bit and the light spilled across the front of her chest. As I expected, she was gloriously, wonderfully naked, her full breasts shining with oil, her sweet nipples hard and extended. The camera panned downward and I expected to see her masturbating with a huge dildo. But to my sudden horror, I saw a blonde head buried between Yuki’s legs. I couldn’t see the girl’s face, but she was just as naked as Yuki, kneeling submissively, tongue wriggling deeply in Yuki’s cunt. 

I gasped, my cock stiffening in hard and frightening speed and Yuki’s legs spread outward even more. I saw small hands press on Yuki’s thighs and then the girl licking Yuki’s clit looked up, her face wet with goo, and I looked down into the eyes of my own daughter. 

My fourteen year old daughter. 

Horror overwhelmed me and I stared in sick fascination. Not once had I ever looked at Emily in a sexual way. Not once had I ever thought about touching her in such a fashion. Not once had I ever fantasized about seeing her naked, or doing anything sexual to her. In my mind, Emily wasn’t just some girl. She was my daughter. I’d sooner rip off my arm than assault her! I stood up, flabbergasted, too shocked and stunned to know what to do. Fury rushed through me. Had I been a means to an end? Yuki quivered as Emily slid two fingers into the Asian girl’s slit and I watched as my daughter literally licked the girl I’d been licking. Fucked the girl I’d been fucking! How long had Yuki been playing us both? Yuki continued to video Emily and then she reached down, pulling Emily upward. I watched as my daughter’s breasts, both of which were nothing compared to Yuki’s, flashed across the screen and the camera caught them kissing passionately. Then Emily was pushed down onto the bed and she spread her legs. The camera caught my daughter’s immature slit, bare of hair still, and then Yuki bent down, sliding her tongue across Emily’s clitoris. My daughter moaned, her hand going to Yuki’s hair.

It was too much. I closed the browser. Shaking, I turned off my computer. How could she? How could either of them? I wasn’t thinking. I was furious. I was… I was… betrayed. 

*** 



My first instinct was to go get my daughter, but thankfully the fact that it was both late at night and my wife was sleeping allowed me a moment of lucidity. Well, at least some facet of it. A mix of emotions ran through me. Disgust. Jealousy. Guilt. Fury. Panic. Desperation. And yes, lust. I had to come to grips that my daughter was literally eating the same pussy I’d munched on just a few days earlier. In my heart, I knew that Emily was too young to be sexually active, and frankly I’d pictured her getting pinned by some boy, not lost in a wave of Sapphic sensuality. And I never imagined it happening so soon. At sixteen? Maybe. But now? How could Emily been entranced by the same luscious curves that had bewitched me? My head spun and I stumbled over to the couch, sitting down with my head in my hands. I wanted to tell her to stop.

The hypocrisy of my own reactions overwhelmed me. What right did I have to stop my daughter? To order her to end her relationship with Yuki? I’m ashamed to admit that I considered my own relationship with Emily’s friend as well. The liaisons I had with Yuki would end and the wedge placed between myself and Emily would be gargantuan. And I could never explain it. Emily would assume I knew about her and Yuki, but would accuse me of being an overbearing parent. Or worse, homophobic, though I had no problem with such relationships provided everyone involved was an… adult. My God. Listen to me! Adult! 

I shook my head. Jenny would want to know how I found out about Emily’s relationship. How, in the middle of the night, did I know that Emily was carpet munching Yuki? And that would open up another bag of worms. Slowly I stood up. I went back to the computer. I followed the link, only to find that it had shut down. There was no recorded video. At least, not where I could get at it. I sat back in my chair, chagrined and demolished. How could I possibly go on, knowing that the next time Yuki came over, there was a damn good chance that she would be going down on my own daughter, right before going down on me? 

I sat wrestling with these questions, not really doing anything, when finally utter exhaustion overwhelmed me. I stood up and stumbled to the bedroom, falling down beside Jenny in my clothes. 

“Charlie?” Jenny said. “Charlie? Are you okay?” I opened my eyes to find the sun streaming in through the window. My wife was up, dressed in her familiar yoga pants, and was looking down at me in concern. “Did you stay up late again?” She asked. I groaned and rolled over, only to suddenly remember what I’d seen the night before. It was branded into my memory, seared as if iron had been put to flesh. The image of my nubile, naked daughter, eagerly licking at Yuki’s pussy flashed through my mental eye. I turned and looked at Jenny. I took a breath and braced myself. 

Then I chickened out. 

“Yeah,” I said roughly. “Just… there was a show last night and it was a bit disturbing. Still shaking it off,” I told her. Jenny gave me a sympathetic look. 

“I know what you mean. The show I’m watching has these ethical dilemmas and in it this one person died and had a daughter who was special needs and none of his friends were willing to adopt the girl. It was really sad.” I blinked as she patted my shoulder.  “Let me make you some breakfast.”

“No,” I blurted out. I didn’t want her being so nice to me! I didn’t deserve it. “I’ll make it myself. You shouldn’t have to take care of me.” I swung my legs out of bed. Jenny gave me a look, but then shrugged. 

“Alright.” She moseyed over to her desk and sat down. I went out into the kitchen. But before I could even think about making myself something to eat, I realized my phone was blinking. I had an email. I snatched up the phone and opened it right there. 

Pictures. Oh my God. Yuki was the main subject, but Emily was in them, laughing, smiling, moaning, eyes closed and cumming. Yuki had made sure to include my daughter in practically every picture and I scrolled through the selection, studying how my daughter was entwined with Yuki. My mouth went dry as I closed the application. How could she?

“Honey?” Jenny asked from the doorway, concern on her face. “Are you sure I can’t make you something?” 

I lowered my phone. “Um… no. I’m… I’m good,” I managed to stammer. I gulped and went to the fridge. My stomach felt like it was full of lead. Finally I pulled out the milk and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I ate it woodenly, staring at a blank computer screen. Nothing seemed to make sense. Finally I picked up my phone and wrote back to Yuki.

“We need to talk.” 

It took her only five minutes to respond and the message was accompanied by another full frontal nude with her grinning at me. “1pm. Convenience store.”

I checked the clock. Just four hours. I finished up my breakfast and was just in the process of getting dressed in clean clothes, when I heard the door of the apartment open. Jenny was in the living room, folding some laundry and I heard her greet our daughter.

“Hello baby! How was the sleepover?” Jenny asked.

Emily laughed easily. “Great, mom! We had a lot of fun! I’m a little tired though. We stayed up late.” 

Jenny chuckled. “I’ll bet. I remember having parties like that when I was your age.”

I snorted. I doubted that. I walked out into the living room just in time to see Emily disappear down the hall. Jenny turned to me and smiled. “She had fun,” she assured me.

“Oh… I’m sure she did,” I said a little sarcastically. My wife’s expression turned quizzical. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” She asked. 

I shrugged, trying to look like I didn’t have the video of Emily licking pussy running through my head. “Oh you know. Girl drama and all,” I said, trying to weasel out of an explanation. She gave me a disapproving look. 

“Just because the two of them play together is no reason for you to get all grouchy.” She turned back to her laundry. 

“Play,” I repeated stone-faced. “Right.” I glanced around the room. “I need to go out for a little bit. Swing by the hardware store. Do you need me to stop off at the grocery and pick up anything?” I asked.

Jenny’s eyebrows went up. “Well, the list is on the refrigerator door if you want to help.”  I nodded immediately and she watched as I retrieved it. “Charlie? Is everything alright?” She looked at me suspiciously.

“Yep,” I said immediately, waving the list. “Just trying to be more helpful around the house. You know.” 

Jenny put her hands on her hips. “You’re acting weird.”

I gave her what I hoped was a bright smile. Then I waved. “I’ll see ya later,” I said. Then I grabbed my keys and headed to the door.

I didn’t go to the hardware store. I was too keyed up. Too emotional. I kept rehearsing what I was going to say to Yuki. Worse, that changed from moment to moment. In some renditions I demanded that she stop fucking my daughter, in others I granted permission, provided there were no more videos, and that I didn’t want to know what was going on between them. In both versions I was ending the relationship between her and me. I had to be adult. I couldn’t let this continue. 

The fact that Yuki emailed me four times between the moment I left and our one o’clock meeting time did not do one whit for my resolve. In the first picture she added, she was stretched out on her bed, her pussy stuffed with a vibrator, and she’d positioned the camera between her thighs so she could take a shot of her filled pussy, her massive tits, and then her huge, and somewhat out of focus eyes looking down through her cleavage. “I can’t wait to see you!” was written on the email. The second just asked a question. “Have I been naughty?” The accompanying picture was of Yuki looking… well… mischievous, as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The fact that she put some sort of lace choker on around her neck, and wrists, and was wearing nothing else, just made her all the more enticing. It looked… almost like bondage gear. Then the third email came. “I’ve been a bad girl,” she admitted. This time the picture was of her bare bottom, a bright red hand spank, undoubtedly self-inflicted, emblazoned upon the cheek. The fourth and final email stated “I need to be punished,” and the picture was taken from above her, which made her face and eyes huge. She was naked and I could easily see the clothespins clinging to her nipples. 

My cock hardened and I tossed the phone down, resolute in my intentions. Fucking tween slut!

Ten to one I pulled up along the side of the convenience store and waited. I was angry. I admit it. I was horny as hell and all I could do was scroll through the photos she had sent me. My own daughter! I still couldn’t believe it. A knock on my window startled me and I looked up to see Yuki, standing at the passenger door. She was carrying a wicker basket and dressed in white short shorts, sandals, and halter top with her midriff bare. Quickly I closed my phone and unlocked the door and she climbed in.

“Please take me to Battle Creek Park,” she said simply.

I opened my mouth to protest. “Look, we need to talk,” I said. She leaned over and put her hand on my mouth. 

“I know. We will. But not here. There is too much passion. Battle Creek Park.” Then she put on her seatbelt.

I have no idea why I humored her. I pressed my lips together and nodded, then put the car into reverse and drove. It took about fifteen minutes to get to Battle Creek and I headed for the north side, near the elementary school. After parking, Yuki climbed out of my car with her basket and headed toward one of the trails, leading into the woods. I followed, just a little sullen and feeling very out of control. We walked for almost ten minutes before she turned off the trail, stepping gingerly into the underbrush. She seemed to know where she was going and a moment later she pushed through some heavier shrubs into a small clearing.

Yuki turned around once, looking in all directions, then without another word, began to strip naked.

“Yuki,” I chided. But the monster inside me purred at the sight of her. Naked, out in the woods? In a moment she looked like a wood nymph and she opened her basket, pulling out a heavy blanket. She laid it out, then came to me, taking my hand. I was wearing jeans and she pulled me over to the cloth, pushing me down even as her hand unbuckled my belt. A moment later I was kicking off my shoes, too enraptured to remember that I meant to break things off with her. 

She bent over and suckled my cock and when I pulled at her waist, wanting to reposition her so that her dripping slit was over my face, she only resisted for a fraction of a second. Then the sweet, musky scent of her filled my nose and my tongue slid along the tangy folds of her sex. Our bodies surged as we pleasured each other, her squirming hips wriggling under my hands as her head bobbed up and down my shaft. The pressure inside me reached a boiling point and I groaned, forcing her up, twisting her around so that she straddled me. The tip of my penis slid along her loin and her eyes stared deep into mine as she nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Impale me!” I suddenly hesitated, the idea of fucking this child in a woman’s body anathema to me. But Yuki took the initiative and drove herself downward, her sex engulfing my cock. Sweet, warm bliss flooded through me as my hormonal instincts took control and we bounced and jittered and jismed. Yuki cried out, exploding wetly, soaking my balls, even as I squirted a thick load of cream deep into her sex.

I lay back on the blanket with a sigh, even as she settled, lowering her breasts to my chest. I held her for a moment as my cock softened, slipping from her. She let out a disappointed moan, but then kissed my sternum. 

Then reason returned. “Oh my God. I wasn’t wearing a condom!” I spluttered. I have sat up, pushing her off me and getting onto my knees. Yuki looked up at me quizzically. “Please tell me you’re on birth control!” For a moment she stared at me, but then she nodded softly. 

“I will not bear you a child unless you ask it of me,” she said softly. “And it is too late this time.” I let out a sigh of relief. She sat up and looked at me, her face showing concerned. “You are mad at me,” she said accusingly. I frowned. 

“Not mad,” I said, feeling guilty and stupid and unsteady. “I’m just…” I finally took a deep breath. “Emily? You had to fuck Emily?” 

Yuki blinked and looked up at me in confusion. “Emily is a part of you. She tastes like you. She pleases me, like you.”  But then her eyes went to my cock. “But she is not you,” she said wickedly, reaching for my dick. I pulled back, not quite ready for her to touch me. I knelt down and took her hands in mine. 

“Yuki, Emily is a child. She’s not ready for a relationship like ours.” Even as I said it, I knew it was a stupid, idiotic thing to say. A relationship like ours? Who the fuck was I kidding? And hell, Emily was at least the same age as Yuki! If any of us were going to have a relationship, it would be between two people who were peers, equals! 

“Are you asking me to not love her?” Yuki asked in confusion. Her mouth curled down in a frown. “Emily would not like that.” She shook her head. “Please do not ask this of me.”

I bit my lip. “Both of us?” 

Yuki gave me a more studied look. “You are not jealous, are you?” Suddenly her expression was panicked. She practically surged upward to wrap her arms around me. Suddenly her breasts were mashed against my body and she was urgent in her appeal. “You are you! You can never be replaced!” Then she began kissing me in such a fervent, desperate fashion that I was overwhelmed. Our mouths met and I was lost in the heady kiss of her passion. She pulled me back down onto the mat, her hand finding my soft cock, stroking me and teasing me. Finally, when we both came up for air, I was semi-rigid. She rose above me and threw her leg over my waist. Her wet slit rubbed against my cock and I groaned. Then she reached for the basket. 

“I see now that I truly was bad. I should have told you about Emily. She is light and love and sweetness,” Yuki said, opening the container. Her pussy slid across my rapidly stiffening prick and she pulled out a steel chain. She gave me a look. “She is vanilla and strawberries. You are chocolate and spice.” Then she held up the chain and to my shock, I saw two clover clamps dangling from the ends. 

I knew what they were, but I’d never owned a pair, much less manipulated them. But Yuki… Yuki knew exactly how to use them. She pinched both sets open and positioned them over each nipple. She let them close and I gasped as my cock suddenly pressed into her pussy again. She moaned, her beautiful nipples caught tightly in the steel and I couldn’t help reaching up to the chain now connecting one breast to the other. I tugged on them and Yuki’s eyes widened. She nodded, her hips now surging as rocked, thrusting and rolling with almost violent eagerness. She reached for her phone and I watched, my own surging member hard and pressing upward to impale her, as she activated the camera and began videotaping herself riding me. 

“Yes,” she begged me, “fuck me hard? Please come inside me again?” She took a close-up of her pussy, stuffed with my dick, then panned up to her breasts. “Pull on the chain? Hurt me? Please?”

So help me God, I did it. I pulled on that chain, her nipples twisting with the clamps and she squealed, her pussy tightening around me. I used my left hand and began spanking her ass, only to drop the chain and use my right hand as well. She rode me frantically, her titties shaking as the steel chain hanging from her nipples swung dangerously above my chest. She cried out, too much as far as I was concerned, and I put a hand over her mouth, rolling her into the grass, my cock still thrusting hard into her. 

Yuki’s eyes went wide and then she shuddered. Her body quivered and a burst of warm wetness seemed to gush out from around my dick. I groaned and pumped, mashing her into the prickling grass, even as she softened, and for the second time I unloaded my balls into her pulsing, grasping, sodden little cunt. Panting, I collapsed on top of her, my weight pressing her down. She never once complained, only wrapping her arms more tightly around my body. I rolled back onto the blanket, taking her with me, sticks and leaves and grass clinging to her body. I brushed off her back and pulled the debris from her long black hair.

“Thank you,” she said softly. 

I let out a little laugh and shook my head. “I’m the one who should be thankful,” I said softly. “You are a very special person.”

She looked down at me, her chest against mine, the cold steel between us, her wet loins against my flaccid manhood. “If I am to love you, I have to love Emily.” There was no argument. Merely a statement. I sighed and nodded. 

“I understand,” I said simply. “Please don’t hurt her?” 

Yuki’s eyes widened. “Hurt her?” She rose up, still straddling me. “You mean like this?” She asked, gesturing at her breasts. Before I could answer she shook her head. “That will be her choice. Pain is part of love, which is part of pleasure.” She said it as if I were some sort of simpleton to be taught. I laughed, which just confused her more. I put my hand on her chest, over her heart. 

“Don’t hurt her here,” I said, tapping the spot over Yuki’s sternum. Then I slid my hand to her breast. “Let me take these off,” I said softly. Yuki grabbed my wrist, her mouth curling up into a smile. 

“I saw how you looked at me when I put them on,” she whispered. “I liked it. I will keep them on until we get back to the convenience store,” she said. She bent down and kissed me, then stood up. I watched as she put her shorts back on, realizing that she’d been going commando from the first. The cotton material rode right up into her slit, soaking in seconds, revealing a translucent, enticing camel toe that was almost enough to get me hard again. Then she put on the halter top, which cupped her huge breasts and left the outline of the clamps in full view. I blushed, wondering what people were going to think when they saw her tits!

She packed up her blanket and basket as I put my jeans back on and we made our way back to the trail. She asked me to carry the wicker container and when we passed a few casual walkers, she crossed her arms over her chest, concealing the clamps and chain. We made it back to the car without incident and with the molten fury in my veins tamped out, I pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store. She looked at me with an intense gaze and pushed a hand under her shirt, only to unclasp the clamp on her left breast. A flash of pain crossed her eyes and she shuddered. 

“I want you again,” she whispered. I gulped.

“I know. I want you to.” 

“It hurts,” she replied, then she freed her other nipple. She drew the clover clamps down out of her halter top and I helped her put them in the basket.

“Do you like it when it hurts?” I asked.

She grabbed my hand and put it right on her tit. I could feel her hardened nipple right through the cloth. “Here? Yes.” She replied. Then she moved my arm and my fingers landed in the center of her chest. “Here? No.” Then she kissed me again and opened the door. She got out, leaned back in and smiled.

“I will love Emily until I can love you again.” 

I smiled. “Alright. Be careful.”

Yuki blew me a kiss and walked off. I glanced at the clock. It was close to supper time. “Fuck!” I suddenly swore. “The groceries!”

Despite my wife’s demand to know where I’d been for almost a full six hours, the rest of the weekend went as well as can be expected. Yuki sent me the video of us fucking in the park and I wanked off to it at least three or four times, finding the recorded version just as sexually exciting as the real one. Emily went back over to Yuki’s place on Sunday and to my embarrassment, I got another video, this one of my daughter lying on her back buck naked, with Yuki fucking her practically stupid with a one of those monster dildos. I didn’t watch to the end. There are some things a father isn’t meant to know.

But over the next week the pictures and videos kept coming. Some were of Yuki by herself, some had Emily in them. I also noticed that Emily had been dragooned into helping Yuki take the pictures. Now some of the shots were taken from a distance, and were clearly not selfies. All of them were perverted and explicit. I treasured each one. More importantly, a few had darker aspects, like the clamps, and I encouraged Yuki specifically every time I got one of those, perhaps wanting to deliberately push her toward a more BDSM perspective. Then came another weekend and this time, Yuki spent the night at our place.

I tried to behave as if everything was normal. I barely glanced at Yuki, much less spoke to her, trying to maintain a sort of polite disinterest. Jenny watched the two girls with a bit more suspicion and after they disappeared into Emily’s room, she approached me.

“Did you see that?” She asked me curiously.

I looked up from the computer game I was playing. “See what?”

“Emily and Yuki,” she said thoughtfully. “They were holding hands when they came in.”

Immediately I felt a little knot form in my stomach. If Jenny knew, or suspected, the relationship between our daughter and Yuki, it could bring everything down. I looked up at her. “So? They’re friends, right?” I could see the wheels turning in my wife’s eyes. “You think Emily is getting a bit overly attached?”

Jenny frowned. “I’m not sure. What do you see when you look at them?” 

I could hardly tell my wife the truth, because what I saw now, every time I saw them together, was the top of my daughter’s head buried between Yuki’s outstretched legs. I shrugged. “Two close friends?” 

Jenny let out a deep breath and then nodded. “It’s just, we live in a different age than the one we grew up in, Charles. The normal conventions are no longer accurate.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, definitely wanting to see where she was going with this.

“The standards,” Jenny said, gesturing toward Emily’s room. “Thirty years ago, me disappearing into a room with another girl wouldn’t have fazed my mother at all. But she would have thrown a conniption if I’d dragged you in there.” She gave me a soft smile. “Kids today are different. They have different values.” She put her hands on her hips. “Emily looks at Yuki like she’s in love.”

I blinked and sat there, pondering what to say. Of course she was in love. How could she not be? I licked my lips and took a deep breath. “Is that… a problem?” I asked softly. “I mean, we were going to face this at some point. A first love. Emily is fourteen.” I smiled. “And at least we don’t have to worry about her getting pregnant,” I said wryly. 

Jenny’s eyes widened and she glared at me. “Charlie! Emotional problems? Distraction from school? Sexually transmitted diseases?” She rolled her eyes. “Emily is too young. And what do we really know about Yuki? What if she’s sexually active with someone else? You know what they say. You’re having sex with everyone your partner has had sex with.”

I blinked. Yuck. What a thought. I pushed that one to the side. “Look Jenny, I’m not trying to excuse it. I’m just saying that we might need to accept it. Mitigate any side effects and keep her focused, and if we need to step in, we can.”

Jenny crossed her arms. “So you see it too,” she said, almost accusingly. I shrugged. 

“I see the closeness of their relationship and I’m man enough to admit that your intuition and observational skills are better than my own,” I replied. “I’m so obtuse that I’d need to see them kissing, or actually having sex, to believe they were in that sort of a relationship.”

Jenny’s cheeks colored and she turned away, but I could tell that she was at least somewhat satisfied with my remarks. I turned back to the computer, wondering how this was going to affect the night. I couldn’t be positive, but over the next few hours I think Jenny found an excuse to interrupt the girls at least a dozen times. Cookies. Drinks. Do you need anything? What are you two girls doing? That sort of thing. But evidently Emily and Yuki knew better than to engage in any lickety split fun until after bed time. Dinner came and went and when Jenny finally came into the living room to kiss me goodnight, right after checking on the girls again, she gave me a long, suffering sigh. 

“You’ll keep an ear out?” 

“For what?” I asked.

Her eyes glared at me. “You know what,” she said darkly. 

“Oh. What do I do if I hear something?” I asked uncomfortably.

Jenny had a firm look in her eyes. “Wake me,” she said soundly. “I have no qualms about going in there,” she declared, “and seeing what they are doing.” 

I took a deep breath. “Right,” I said, nodding. 

Jenny kissed me and I watched her go back into the bedroom. The door shut and I felt a surge of guilt. I knew damn well what the girls would be doing, and relatively soon. I leaned back in my chair. How the hell could I diffuse this situation? I needed Jenny to back off, either to let the girls be or to think that Emily wasn’t involved in a physical relationship with Yuki. Should I warn them? That seemed the best route and while the minutes ticked by, I opened up my email and quickly typed out a message to Yuki, warning her that Emily’s mother was suspicious that they were physically involved and that she wanted to catch them in the act. I hit send and waited.

But there was no reply. 

I glanced at the clock. Jenny had been asleep for over thirty minutes, so I stood up and quietly padded my way down to our daughter’s bedroom. For a moment, I stood there listening, but all was quiet. I shook my head and was about to turn away, but then came a soft groan. I felt that leaden knot in my tummy twist and I shook my head. I knew it. They were already at it. I took a deep breath and backed away. I could always plead ignorance. Or I could tell Jenny I checked and didn’t hear anything. 

By the time I got back to my desk though, there was an email. It wasn’t a response to my note. Instead it was another hyperlink, to a livestream. I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to look. I didn’t want to watch. But then, as my cock hardened, my willpower crumbled. Finally I clicked on the link and opened a new browser window that showed two teenage girls entwined, faces buried in each other’s twats, much the same way Yuki and I had pleasured each other at the park. As usual, the video focused more on Yuki than on Emily, for which I was grateful, but even then, I couldn’t help reaching down to gently stroke my throbbing cock. I watched until my daughter gasped, shuddering as her best friend suckled and licked her clit and then Emily flipped Yuki over and returned the favor. Finally the video ended and I was left with aching balls and a member so rigid that it hurt. 

It was another forty minutes before Yuki emerged from the hallway and when she did I was already seated on the couch, my loose shorts straining to hold back my dick, aching with need. Yuki was exquisite, her beauty overwhelming and she came straight to me, only to kneel in front of me, reach up, and free my manhood. Her hand encircled my length and then her mouth surrounded me, warm wetness flowing in circles as her tongue swirled around the tip. I groaned. I couldn’t help it. Pure and unadulterated pleasure shot up through me. I strained against her, and when she sensed that I was desperate for her, she climbed up into my lap, facing me and pressing her amazing bosom into my face. For a moment we fumbled, but then I slid myself into her inviting cunt and I thrust upward, my face coloring as my heart pounded. 

Our lovemaking wasn’t frenzied, but it wasn’t slow either. It was intense, my own libido raging with need. Still, I didn’t want it to be over too soon. Yuki on the other hand, felt differently about my incipient orgasm, and she pressed her tits together, rubbing her nipples across my lips, even as my hands guided the rhythmic pulses of her loins. I felt her pussy flutter and squeeze me and she put her mouth to my ear. 

“Yes. This is right. This is the way it should be. Me around you. You in me. Cumming for me. Me cumming for you.” She pressed a nipple to my mouth and I sucked the hardening pink tip with undisguised longing. She tilted her head back as I pushed upward, my arms enfolding her, bracing her, taking her.

Fucking her. 

In my mind I still wonder if I had made too loud of a noise, or if Yuki’s little mewls of pleasure did it. My back had been to the bedroom door and it wasn’t until Yuki’s eyes widened and she gasped in shock that I realized something was amiss. I twisted my head, just seconds away from climax, to see Jenny standing there in her pajamas, a look of horror on her face. It took her only seconds to put two and two together and then her eyes locked on me. Confusion was replaced by comprehension, then by outrage. 

“Yuki,” my wife hissed. “Get dressed. Get your things. Now.” 

Yuki, her face a stricken mask, rose and my cock bobbed, glistening with her goo. I reached down, struggling to get into my boxers. I pulled them up, then stood. 

“Jenny,” I started to say, only to find my wife’s eyes filled with tears. She shook her head.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare!” She spat. “It was never Emily. It was you.” She moved around the couch. “How long?” She demanded. “How long have you been fucking her? Seducing her?” She got within a foot of me, eyes blazing. “She’s a child, Charles!” And before I could say anything, her hand lashed out and she slapped me. I reeled, my hand coming up to my face. I began to say something, but she hit me again.

“Get out,” she whispered, stepping back. She was shaking and she was so angry. “Get OUT!” She screamed.

“Mommy?” Emily said from the hall. She looked at us both, terrified.

Jenny wheeled and looked back at our daughter. “Go back to your room. Help Yuki get packed. We are taking her home.” 

Emily’s eyes blurred into tears. “But… but why?” 

Jenny wheeled back toward me. “Get out. Now.” 

I turned, walked to the bedroom, and threw together some clothes. Then I left.



***



When I woke late the next morning, it was to the stringent knock of a police officer. I opened the door with bleary eyes and without a word, three officers surged into the motel room. I was placed in handcuffs and escorted barefoot out to a waiting patrol car. From there the criminal justice system did its best to paint me as a monster. My computer was confiscated, parsed, combed and the hundreds of videos and pictures of Yuki and Emily were submitted into evidence. I was appointed a public defender, who listened to my story of being seduced by Yuki, shook his head, and advised that I should plead guilty. 

Based on the physical evidence alone, I was charged with 5 counts of criminal sexual conduct of the first degree, of which there was video evidence. That in and of itself was damning. My lawyer suggested that I might get a more lenient sentence from the judge, but that turned out to be wishful thinking. The judge, who was female, accepted the prosecution’s suggested penalty and I was sentenced to thirty years in prison. 

I never had a chance to speak to Jenny again. Not even once. Or see my daughter. I have no idea of the fallout. I never even saw Yuki again. Naked or otherwise. Three months after I was arraigned my wife served me divorce papers and I lost custody to Emily. I lost my wife. I lost my daughter. I lost my freedom. 

I have lost my life. 

It is a fitting punishment, isn’t it? For a man who never intended to touch, or to taste, the forbidden fruit? And as I lay here in my cell, thinking about Yuki, the dark haired vixen, the sweet and scrumptious little girl who engendered the destruction of my life, for brief moments as I remember her, I can’t help thinking, as the memory stirs my desires, that it was all worthwhile.

Because I am not a pedophile. 

I’m just a man.