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A strange atmosphere had developed in the Weaver household over the last few weeks. Following their last swinger party, Sharon and Jim’s relationship had settled into an uneasy tenor—like a song being played at a slightly incorrect cadence or in the wrong key. There was something unmistakably different about it that neither one of them wanted to acknowledge or address—each for different reasons.
For Jim, he didn’t want to face the reality of this expedition into a new lifestyle having significantly altered his marriage. The increasingly glaring indications that they were no longer ‘in it together’ to ‘improve the relationship’ and ‘grow closer’ were everywhere and yet—Jim was intent on willfully ignoring them. The fact that their own pursuits of pleasure had become the focal point of their activities, the social and emotional distance that had developed as a result and the terrifying pace of it all was too much to contend with. It was easier if he just pretended everything was fine.
For Sharon, she didn’t so much as fail to properly acknowledge the changes as she viewed them as irrelevant—she simply didn’t care very much. The fact that she no longer viewed her pleasurable pursuits as a means to improve the intimacy in her marriage was less of a burdensome source of unease, as it was a simple fact of her evolvement. She was out for herself now, and she didn’t mourn the previous state of her marriage any more than she regretted the new status quo.
While they hadn’t attended another swinger party since the previous one where they met up with Jared and Morgan again, things were still progressing in other ways. Jim had fallen into his drinking and pot smoking habits to cope with the guilt, fear, and unease that he felt day-to-day. He lounged around the house in his expensive sleepwear, making himself cocktails and taking tokes off the small purple pipe given to him by his daughter—who joined him for smoke sessions regularly. When he did go out—for supplies or his weekly golf game with Rich—he was never sober and risked a DUI or worse.
This meant Jim was less attentive to the goings-on in the house in general, and less present to intervene—primarily in the burgeoning cocaine habit that Sharon had been developing. After blowing Jared and then being fucked very publicly by Teddy at the last swinger party, Sharon had met up with the woman in the red one-piece who had been sucking off a man in his 50’s across the room. They bonded over being pariahs and perhaps exhibiting less decorum and more wanton impulse while pursuing their latest conquests than others might have thought was appropriate.
Before tag-teaming a couple of drunk older men whose wives were suspiciously absent, they had sampled a fair bit of coke that the woman—Liz—had provided. It began a nearly month-long binge for Sharon kicked off with a healthy sample for Sharon to take home that night and continuing with weekly meetings with Liz who began supplying her. It wasn’t cheap, and Sharon’s steady withdrawals from their shared checking account hadn’t been noticed by Jim.
For the last 3 weeks Sharon hadn’t gone a single day where she wasn’t taking bumps of coke throughout the day, sometimes spending hours in the bathroom chain-smoking cigarettes and doing lines. While Jim hadn’t noticed it or had been intentionally ignoring it—Amanda was very aware of the peculiar dynamic that had settled in the home. In the regular smoking sessions with her father, Amanda tried to coax her father to open-up and talk to her about his obvious slip into depression without success.
When it came to Sharon, Amanda had been all but stonewalled—an emotional coldness from her mother that she had never seen before. Terse responses and curt answers were the norm, and although it was always doled out with the soft, lilting tone of a loving mother—it lacked authenticity and seemed only to approximate the genuine interest and care that she had once offered effortlessly. Amanda wasn’t overly concerned, she could see plainly from her grinding jaw, sniffles and frequent disappearances into locked rooms that she was fiending—but it did elicit sympathy for her father.
Amanda had always had a strong relationship with her mother, but as she had grown older, she felt it had changed. As she started experiencing the events of adolescence like boys, partying, and the rest she felt like she could no longer rely on her mother for support and understanding—instead becoming a source of judgment and disappointment. She wasn’t doing anything different than the rest of the kids her age, but her mother still viewed the mildest indiscretion as a damning offense.
It was this feeling of oppression and shame that gave rise to a rebellious streak. Amanda partied a little harder than her friends, and slept around a bit more, all in the name of defiance of her maternal overlord. But where her mother had become a figure of oppression, her father had become a friend. Jim would offer her a couple beers discreetly here and there, grab her a pack of smokes on his way home if she asked, look the other way when she snuck into the illegal bahis house drunk, high, and far past curfew after partying. Jim was the prototypical ‘cool dad,’ who knew that ‘girls just wanted to have fun.’
So, Amanda noticing that her mother was indulging in her newfound bad habits, she felt less concerned and more relieved—perhaps this situation would stick, and she’d have two ‘cool parents’ who gave her the freedom she desperately wanted. The only downside was that it seemed that aside from neglecting her motherly duties, her spousal duties were also being shirked in favor of these new activities. It pained her to see her father—normally such a happy, smiling, carefree man—moping around the house in his PJ’s and sipping cocktails on the couch or the porch while looking wistfully into space.
“Room for two?” Amanda asked, noticing her father packing a fresh bowl in the small purple pipe she’d given to him several weeks ago.
Jim offered a weak smile and nodded to the empty cushion next to him on the couch. Amanda sighed dramatically, plopping herself down and leaning back for a good stretch.
“Plans for the day?” Jim asked, flicking the lighter to life and circling the flame over the bowl.
“Nope. I’m off today and I’m not doing anything. Not even gonna get dressed,” Amanda exclaimed before breaking into a yawn.
Jim smiled again and nodded, tilting his head back and blowing a stream of smoke up towards the ceiling. Without looking he handed the lighter and pipe to his daughter, knowing the procedure of their morning routine quite well at this point.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” Amanda chirped playfully, excited to follow her recent wake with a much needed bake.
She tapped the bottom of the lighter on the blackened patch of green in the bowl and flicked it to life. Her expert pipe smoking skills borne of hundreds if not thousands of previous actions shone through, her thumb working in tandem with her lighter and breathing to fill her lungs utterly with smoke before handing the pipe back to her father. Jim watched as her chest heaved and her back arched, a familiar display of her smoking prowess as a self-described ‘stoner.’ Finally, she released the contents of her lungs and expelled a long, thick stream of smoke that quite literally filled the room.
Amanda smiled when she noticed her father staring at her, tilting her head and sticking out her tongue.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked after a few moments of his gaze not lifting.
He smiled—a big, genuine smile that Amanda hadn’t seen for a while.
“I’m just happy you’re my daughter,” he beamed.
Amanda let out a snort of laughter, the weed already doing its job.
“I don’t think most parents would watch their kid kill an entire bowl in one hit and be thinking that,” she laughed.
Jim shrugged, perhaps the effects of the weed feeding his already laid-back attitude.
“I just see a beautiful young woman who I’m extremely proud to call my daughter,” Jim replied, feeling the familiar sting of tears at the corner of his eyes.
Amanda stopped laughing at her father’s awkward attempt at bonding and felt something real pull at her heart.
“Oh, daddy, don’t be silly,” she said, swallowing the emergence of her own lump of emotion in her throat.
“I’m sorry, I’m being weird, aren’t I?” Jim replied, trying unsuccessfully to inconspicuously wipe a tear from his eyes.
Amanda waited a few more moments, trying to let the mood settle.
“Are you okay?” she asked, already prepared for the false reassurance that he’d been offering her for weeks.
But he didn’t.
“I don’t know, hon,” he replied softly.
“Is it the swinging thing?” she pressed, sensing her opportunity.
Jim sighed, his shoulders slumping.
“I really shouldn’t… it’s between your mother and I,” he answered without conviction.
“What is? We’re all a part of this family, dad. And it’s not only you and mom who are affected. Me, Cam, we’re all affected if something happens—and we all love you,” Amanda reasoned, placing her hand on her father’s forearm.
Jim smiled weakly again, not quite able to regain the wide smile of earlier.
“You’re such a good kid, I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Jim laughed softly to himself before meeting Amanda’s sympathetic eyes.
“I’m a party-girl stoner who works at the bowling alley and cheats on all her boyfriends, I’m really not the ‘good kid’ you think I am dad,” Amanda replied with a crooked grin.
Jim let out a chuckle, Amanda’s self-deprecating confession burning his cheeks a bit in embarrassment. Amanda joined him, realizing that she may have crossed the ‘too much information’ boundary and silently cursing her own impulse control. Something in the sad look in his eyes made her feel the need to reach out and hug her father, compelled to physical touch after their silly stoner bonding session.
Jim let his daughter lean into his chest and press her cheek against him and wrapped her comparatively small frame with his arms in a loving embrace.
“Thanks illegal bahis siteleri for being so cool,” Amanda whispered softly.
Jim almost let out another chuckle at the mention of himself being referred to as ‘cool,’ but it caught in his throat as he was struck by the authenticity of her statement. Instead he instinctively began petting the top of Amanda’s head, softly brushing her auburn hair like he did when she was young.
“I miss this,” Amanda whispered again.
“Miss what?” Jim replied, not quite sure about her meaning.
“Just being a kid, I guess. When I was your little girl and you were my daddy,” she continued.
Jim flinched a bit at being called ‘daddy’ by his daughter, his recent roleplaying with Morgan immediately springing to mind and reminding him that he hadn’t been intimate with Sharon or anyone else since that night.
“You’ll always be my little girl, darling,” Jim replied.
“And you’ll always be my daddy,” she whispered back, again sending conflicting messages through Jim’s mind.
Amanda coupled her statement by sitting up and kissing Jim on the cheek softly, then wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly.
Jim reciprocated her affection and hugged her back but remained fixated on the arousal of being called daddy and the lingering wetness on his cheek from Amanda’s soft kiss. His heartbeat reverberated in his ears as he contemplated why his signals were being crossed at this moment.
Amanda finally loosened her grip and pulled back, still retaining her hands on his shoulders and looking hard into Jim’s eyes.
“What’s wrong? You seem tense?” she queried, crinkling her brow worryingly.
Jim’s smile came awkwardly, and his eyes darted away from the sparkling blues of his daughter’s as if she would be able to see right through to his thoughts in that moment.
“It’s just been, a while since you kissed my cheek,” he scrambled.
“Oh? You’ve missed that? Remember when we kissed each other’s cheeks every night before bed? I would refuse to sleep, I thought you hated that,” she replied through a crooked grin.
“Of course, I remember, and it never bothered me at all,” Jim remembered fondly.
“Well, I guess I owe you then,” she smiled.
And with that Amanda leaned in again and kissed Jim’s cheek, only before adjusting her focus and kissing the other cheek. She went on like this, kissing each of Jim’s cheeks in alternating fashion for several seconds before pulling her head back and smiling at him.
“What was that for?” Jim asked, more than a little flustered and confused.
“I owed you a lot of cheek kisses for the nights we missed, I was just paying my debt,” Amanda joked playfully, her wide blue eyes sparkling.
Jim didn’t know what to say and had become aware of the slight erection that was clearly visible through the crotch of his silk pajama pants. He cursed his penchant for extravagant sleepwear and habit of not wearing underwear to bed.
Amanda picked up on his consternation, again furrowing her brow in concern.
“Is it the weed? You feel irrational paranoia?” She asked.
Jim shook his head no but hadn’t quite conjured up a reason either.
“You’re acting weird today, I’m worried about you,” Amanda followed, not one to mince words.
“I’m fine, it’s just been a rough few weeks,” he replied, settling on a truth—albeit one that wasn’t presently relevant.
Aside from trying to look normal, Jim was also focusing on trying to mentally force his erection to subside.
“Why can’t you just talk to me about it?” she implored.
“It’s just, I don’t think it’s something you should have to worry about,” he answered.
“You keep saying that, but I keep telling you we’re a family. We don’t keep secrets from each other, and you can trust me,” Amanda countered.
Jim sighed, both in response to his current predicament and in defeat.
“Okay, but it stays between us,” he replied.
“You do realize how ironic that is considering what I just said about not keeping secrets, right?” she said dryly.
“It isn’t a secret from anyone, but the fact that I’m telling you about it needs to be,” Jim reasoned.
“Fine,” Amanda agreed.
Jim sighed again, wondering how exactly to present this subject to his 18-year-old daughter.
“Your mother and I joined this swinger group to improve our marriage, but lately it’s seemed to have created distance. Your mom especially, has gotten really into it and seems to be kind of doing her own thing these days,” he began.
“I’ve noticed,” Amanda smirked.
“Yeah, well, so have I—although I’d rather ignore it. But lately it’s gotten to the point where I really can’t, and I’m worried that we may have opened a Pandora’s box,” Jim concluded.
“Meaning what?” she replied.
“Meaning… I think this whole idea might’ve been a mistake. We’ve done a lot of experimenting and I don’t think we can put the toothpaste back in the tube,” he clarified.
“So, are you guys getting a divorce?” Amanda pressed.
“Oh, canlı bahis siteleri God no, nothing like that. But it’s certainly changed our relationship and I doubt it will ever really be the same again,” Jim answered.
Amanda leaned back on her haunches a bit, considering her father’s words.
“Do you want it to be the same? If you could go back to how it was, would you?” she questioned.
Now it was Jim’s turn to consider—and it was a prospect he hadn’t given much thought until that moment.
“I’m not sure, there are certainly things I miss, but we had our problems then too,” he wondered aloud.
“So, why are you so down? You aren’t even sure that you’re unhappy with how things have changed or if you’d want it to go back to how it was. Why is it making you unhappy?” Amanda prodded curiously.
“I…,” Jim fumbled a bit, knowing the real reasons but hesitant to admit them.
Amanda waited for a few silent moments before sensing Jim would need some motivation to finish his thoughts.
“Come on, dad, you can’t leave me hanging,” she said, attempting the playful approach first.
“Your mom and I have become distant, honey. Other than the swinger parties, there just isn’t much we do together anymore. And even then, the parties,” Jim stammered, shaking his head.
“I get it,” Amanda nodded,
“Yeah,” he replied, nodding his head in agreement with his daughter who’d connected the dots.
Slowly Amanda’s face curled into a smirk and her eyes narrowed toward her father.
“Is that why you’ve been acting so weird? My cheek kisses? You’re… lonely?” she quizzed.
Jim’s heart jumped a beat, taken aback by her perceptiveness and unprepared to answer for his confusing physical reactions. Amanda immediately recognized his look of discomfort and smiled wide, knowing she’d solved it.
“Oh daddy, don’t be silly. It’s not like you have a—” she said while turning her head to look down at her father’s silken clad crotch to reveal an unmistakable bulge, “hard on.” She finished.
Jim could feel his entire body go hot and the tingling unease of intense shock and embarrassment spread along his skin.
“Daddy,” Amanda whispered, her heartbeat now racing and her skin flush.
“Honey, I’m not sure what’s going on but—” Jim began.
“Shhhh, don’t worry about it, I’m not upset,” Amanda replied, barely aware of her own speaking while overcome with a mix of emotions.
Jim remain frozen, unable to move or speak. He simply did not know what to say or do, or what was happening.
“Do you know why I always cheat on my boyfriends?” she continued.
Jim, predictably, did not answer.
“Because I always fuck their dad,” she explained, her hand snaking out towards the tent in Jim’s pants.
“Honey, no,” Jim protested feebly, despite the tent growing in response to her movements and words.
“You know what’s funny?” she went on, now brushing her hand across the cock shaped outline between Jim’s legs.
Jim’s breath seized in his lungs and his entire body went rigid, knowing how wrong this was but physically unable to react.
“They always wanted me to call them daddy,” she purred, her light caresses becoming more and more bold.
While she continued to softly massage Jim’s cock through his pants Amanda turned her head back to Jim with a devious smile. It was clear to Jim that she was challenging him, although he wasn’t sure he knew why or how the situation had escalated so quickly. Amanda was awash in endorphins, remembering the sight of her father behind Barb in the kitchen and how wet it had made her. While she didn’t totally understand it, the ability to turn her father on like this was driving her wild.
“Do you like when I call you daddy?” She teased, feeling his cock harden against her touch.
Jim felt the knot in his stomach begin to unravel, the direction of this interaction feeling predetermined in a way that absolved him of some guilt or responsibility that he’d been harboring until that moment.
“Yes,” he breathed finally.
In response, Amanda’s hand clasped around the cock that she’d been teasing with her soft touch and began stroking it purposefully—the thin silk barrier leaving almost nothing to the imagination.
Jim gasped audibly, arching his back and then breathing out slowly—sinking into the touch of his daughter’s hand on his shaft.
“Tell me about them,” Jim panted, finding his way back into the familiar role he filled with Morgan weeks ago.
“The other dads?” she clarified.
“Yes,” was all Jim could get out as Amanda’s grip on him tightened further and her stroking increased in pace.
“I like to tease them, wear slutty clothes when I meet them or go over for dinner. Squeeze my tits together and lean forward when I shake their hands, brush my thigh against their dicks when I hug them and say goodbye. It turns me on to see them looking at me and knowing they want to fuck me,” Amanda explained in a soft, sultry voice that Jim could barely recognize.
“Sometimes they try to be good and ignore it or stay strong and avoid me. But the ones that don’t I slip them my phone number and meet them when they’re supposed to be working or at a meeting and suck them off in their car or let them fuck me in a cheap hotel,” she continued.
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