Second Lust
Episode 1

My first lust (and love) was a guy named Brandon. We dated a few years in high school, and in most ways, it was a pretty conventional romance. Through most of my junior year, I thought he was who I would marry, and I gave him my virginity willingly and energetically. But in senior year we started diverging ... he was intent on his sports (he was a star soccer player) and I began to tire of his short attention span, or maybe it was my attention span that was the problem. We're still "friends" I guess, but we ended it about the time I found out I had been accepted to a college in the Midwest, and he had managed an athletic scholarship somewhere in the southwest.

But this isn't about my first lust, but my second. And it's rather more complicated, in so many ways.

First of all, about myself. My name is Angela, but I've been Angie to myself and everyone for as long as I can remember, except my dad, who sometimes calls me Angel, as an endearment I guess. I grew up in Oregon, and I've just finished my freshman year at a highly rated liberal arts college in Minnesota, where I won a full academic scholarship. So this last summer, I decided to write up the experience, as it is, I think, quite amazing and unusual, and pretty darn kinky too.

My parents are divorced, and before leaving for college, I lived with my mom and younger brother, and saw dad on occasional weekends. My mom is a nurse, and is Mexican-American - she grew up in southern California. My dad works with computers and is actually a Canadian citizen, but has lived in Oregon for 30 years. He was born in Manitoba, and my grandparents are still there, and I even went up to visit them over a long weekend from college - it's not that far from Minnesota to southern Manitoba.

Second of all, this story will be hard for you to understand if you don't know what Second Life is. Rather than try to explain it, I recommend you go find out, before reading too much further. Just google it if you want to explore. In summary, it's a sort of online virtual reality game, where you wear "avatars" (that may or may not resemble your real self in any way) and hang out. A kind of 3-dimensional chatroom /slash/ mall /slash/ architecture workshop, and who knows what else. Like so many innovative new technologies (e.g. the internet as a whole!), Second Life has been colonized by vast tribes of pornographers and perverts, along with its more banal residents (now 2 million users and rising), and so it has its seedy side, which is in some ways instrumental to this story.

I first heard about Second Life in some articles I read in magazines (I'm a bit of a current events and news whore, I think I might major in Poli-Sci), but that was followed shortly by actually logging on and trying it out, after I saw it for the first time and became genuinely intrigued.

I had been "hanging out" in a room down the hall from mine in the dorms, I think it was mid-October. The room was two guys, neither of whom I particularly liked but my friend Christa was there so I was there chatting, and this guy Bryan was showing off his computer, and logged on to Second Life to show us how cool it was.

At first, I thought it would be like most video games - violent and, in my opinion, dull. But it was quickly clear to me, as he gave us a bit of a "tour," that it was qualitatively different - there was no particular objective or goal, no monsters to kill. Just things to look at, stores to shop at, people to interact with. Bryan was very careful not to show us the "seedy" side I mentioned earlier. I discovered that on my own.

So later that night, my interest piqued, I went to the website, downloaded the client and stuff, and set up a free account. The name I chose for my avatar was "Angel" - along with a last name that you get to pick from a list that they give you - I'll leave out all avatars' last names, for privacy's sake. I explored a little bit, and was fascinated. The college dorms have super fast broadband in all the rooms, and I had a pretty good computer, better than most people's on campus, a gift from my tech-savvy father.

I didn't become addicted right away, however ... although I intuited it was a possibility. I just kind of looked around the online world a little bit, and read some blogs and things on the topic. I discovered the above-mentioned seedy side (nude beaches for your avatars, sex clubs, strange and graphic animations you can run for one, two or more avatars together), but at that point in time, I was neither repelled by it nor particularly interested. Not unlike my attitude toward porn as a whole - I saw the "point" of it, and figured it had its usefulness, but my sexuality was always so brain-driven and emotional that I never really got much out of visual porn.

My only "regular" use of smut was an occasional visit to an erotic stories website like literotica, where I would sometimes get a bit horny reading a well-written story. I definitely had a thing for exhibitionist and voyeur plots, though I'd always been too timid to act on the fantasies they provoked.

Meanwhile, I should explain, my sex-life was frustrating. After the break-up with Brandon, I didn't date anyone else in high school, and although the dorms at college were, from the start, a seething den of free sex, kink and iniquity, I was more a voyeur than a participant. I'm not particularly shy, but I am particular about who I'm interested in. I hung out with one guy, named David, who was in my freshman seminar and who I liked a lot, but I doubted it would go anywhere, as he seemed obsessed by my roommate Elise - he even admitted it to me, once. And Elise had a boyfriend-at-home thing going, long distance relationship, and wasn't interested in anyone.

So I had my special relationship with "Mr and Mrs Hand" as I called them - I had a weird twisted little concept that they were an experienced, good-willed couple who "took care of me" when needs arose - it entertained me to imagine my late night, utterly silent (because of roommate), gentle manipulations as a sort of threesome-of-one under the covers.

I didn't spend enough time in Second Life, that fall, to develop any online "friendships," and by the time final exam time rolled around I wasn't going into the game at all, and was so stressed from school that I wasn't even masturbating much, either. Then came Christmas break, and the discovery that so complicated my life.

Of course, I spent most of Christmas with mom, and it was relaxing and nice to be home and oh so very fine to lie in bed until late morning, watching the eternally overcast, drizzling skies of my hometown and teasing myself, as I developed ill-formed, vague fantasies about Brandon-clones, but with bigger brains, who I might meet in hypothetical college parties that were somehow better than the actual drunken brawls I'd attended.

The day after Christmas, my brother Mark and I were over at our dad's. Now ... I've always gotten along ok with dad, but it's not close. He's a rather introverted person, I guess. He even jokes with everyone quite openly, that he's a nerd. He lives by himself, in a large warehouse-style condo in downtown Portland - I really like the place, but time with dad is awkward, as he's always so reserved, like he doesn't know what to say to us - either of us.

Anyway, we did "Christmas" - a few gifts, a nice brunch that we all helped prepare - and we were just hanging out. And Mark had gotten this new bike, which he knew he was getting from dad, and so now he wants to go riding, and so dad goes riding with him, leaving me alone in dad's place. I've been alone there before - I love how light and airy feeling it is, even on overcast days. I like to imagine myself rich and grown up, with a place like it, but somewhere exciting like Chicago or New York, rather than dullsville Portland, Oregon. Somewhere along in life, I became a city girl.

Anyway, I went and got on dad's computer, which I knew he was ok with me doing, to check my emails, surf the web, or something. And, lo and behold, there's a little Second Life icon on his desktop.

The Second Life client saves your logon information automatically - username and password. So when I opened it up, I realized I could log on just as easily under my dad's avatar as my own, and, seeing no harm in it, I did. The first thing that surprised me was that he'd given his avatar the same first name as I'd given mine - Angel.

But what surprised me even more was when, once I'd logged on, I realized he'd created a female avatar for himself. She looked like a teenaged girl, actually. I felt my heart start to race, as I pondered what strange, secret life of my father's I'd discovered. Was he gay? A transvestite? Just plain weird? My imagination has always gotten me in trouble, and as I sat and looked around "his world," said imagination was doing its best to freak me out.

Unlike what I'd done, with my free "basic" account, my dad had apparently invested money in the Second Life universe. He owned a little bit of virtual land where he'd put up a "residence," and had an amazing wardrobe compiled for his female avatar - most of it, frankly, rather slutty, I thought, critically. Not exactly, well, disgusted by it - just curious. He had an extensive list of "friends" within the game, and a comprehensive list of "landmarks" to interesting locations in the universe - themed spots, from weird sex stores to Japanese shopping malls to a Star Wars Jedi training academy.

But it was his "group" memberships that really left my jaw hanging. A bunch of very intense "dance clubs" with rave, trance, house music specializations - who knew? A few slutty-sounding sex-oriented groups. And "Gothic Lolita" - oh my god what was that? And "Truth or dare"?!

Well, it was about then that I heard dad and Mark coming back up the stairs. I guiltily closed the Second Life client and logged off the computer (dad's computer - computers, really - run 24/7, he's got a home network and all that). And pretended to be reading some old Gourmet cooking magazine instead, by the time they reappeared. My heart racing.

Naturally, I had no more alone-time to check or explore further, but the name of his avatar was burned into my memory, and my curiosity was piqued and my twisted mind conjured hundreds of odd scenarios and explanations which left me both disgusted and strangely fascinated. It wasn't exactly a prurient thing - not at this point. More just a morbid desire to know everything about my dad's secret online life, as if that was suddenly somehow a prerequisite for understanding and being close to him. And as indifferent as I've sounded here, I really wished, many times, that I could have a better relationship with my dad.

Of course, I said nothing to anyone, and I had to drop the subject with myself, until I got back to college. But that first night back in Minnesota, in my cozy dorm room, with the swirling snow outside, I opened my Second Life and logged on under my own avatar, and unhesitatingly called up his avatar's "profile" and picked up where I'd left off, looking at his various group memberships and interests.

And I hate to say it, but I was simply too curious for my own good. I was messing with the "search" function in the game, and of course, I searched him that way, using his avatar's name. And I saw that he was online. Right then. Or... "she" was online, rather - hah. And I wanted to "talk" to him ... I wanted to see what it was he was doing. I immediately decided that to do this, and avoid being caught, I'd need to go under "deep cover," as I jokingly thought of it to myself.

I'd already put too much of what I thought of as identifying information in my avatar's profile. "College student, Minnesota," stuff like that. That, combined with the name "Angel" made it too obvious by far. And although I could delete this info, I couldn't change the name. I didn't even want to risk the off chance he'd already run across me (especially given we shared a first name). So I logged off of Second Life, and created a brand new free account, with a different name.

Because I value irony, I selected for my avatar's first name "Karl." I'd already decided I was going to be a guy, and my dad's name is Carl - with a 'C' - but, I just couldn't resist. If he could be "Angel" then surely I could be "Karl" right?

I logged on and made myself as masculine an avatar as I could. I left the profile info mostly blank, only saying something inane like "looking to explore Second Life" in the interests section, and stating "Not willing to discuss" in the "first life" section they provide for you to talk about your "real life."

Then I set about trying to find him. Now, as far as I can figure out, it's not easy to find someone inside the vast Second Life universe, if they haven't explicitly granted permission to your avatar to be able to "see" them. But I figured he'd be at his "house" at some point, so I decided to wait there for him. Fortunately, I remembered more or less where it was (I have a good geographical sense, I guess - even with virtual geographies). So I "teleported," in-game, to the right "region" and flew my avatar around until I spotted his unique-looking virtual home.

And I waited. It was several hours, and in the meanwhile I tinkered with my avatar's appearance (as best one can, without going off shopping in a virtual clothing store) and explored his home - though there was nothing terribly incriminating, a nice virtual home with big windows and some furniture with "pose balls" in them - meaning your avatar gets to sit in comfortable-looking, interesting positions rather than the generic straight backed default sitting-pose that SL gives to you, that makes your cartoony avatar look like it has a cartoony stick up its cartoony ass. I found nothing kinky or twisted, at all. Was I almost disappointed?

Anyway, the moment arrives. I'm sitting on his - "her" - sofa, and, bing, she appears - teleporting in.

Immediately, a clever opening: "Who's that sitting on my couch?" like from the story Goldilocks and the Three Bears, or something.

Me, a little lame, nervous, genuinely tongue-tied (or keyboard-tied, in the case of SL chat): "Uh, sorry, is this your house?"

"Yep. Hi."

"I was just exploring and this seemed like a nice place, so I stopped to sort through my inventory," I lied. Sorting through one's inventory is a necessary past-time in SL - otherwise you lose track of your stuff and can't find it again.

"No problem," (s)he said. "Make yourself at home."

Angel moved over to sit on an armchair, facing me. The avatar was wearing a short, red, low-riding miniskirt, a black lacy top, fishnet stockings that ended at mid thigh, and ratty looking sneakers. She actually was exactly what I'd imagine a "Gothic Lolita" would look like, I thought to myself.

And, holy crap! The "pose" the chair she sat in caused her to flash me up her skirt! I actually laughed out loud in my quiet dorm room, and was glad my roommate still hadn't gotten back from break and that I had the room for two days to myself.

This Angel wasn't wearing panties. What a freaking slut, I thought to myself. I was a total stranger who'd squatted in her house, and she came in and was flashing me in under 5 minutes. And, I must explain, unlike my "default" avatar, this avatar of my father's, I must say, was anatomically complete. When you start the game, you get an avatar devoid of genitals - "undecided gender" I heard someone call it - but you can buy (or find for free if you're lucky) avatars with more well-crafted, complete "skins."

Whoa. A little cartoony, but there was a little tuft of hair above a pink set of lips and everything.

And here's what was mind-blowingly weird for me, in that moment: you see, I have actually fantasized - many times - about behaving this way, but had never had the guts to do it. And so it struck me as profoundly eerie and, yes, ironic to find my father acting out MY sexual fantasies, online. What's with that? And irony, of course, is like a major turn on for me. Just like that, I found myself getting excited.

Up to this point, this hadn't been in the cards. I'd been curious, even morbidly so. But it had never occurred to me, honestly, that I'd find myself PERSONALLY excited by the situation in any way, even if it was, in the abstract, a wee bit kinky.

Now, I'd spent enough time in SL to know that brutish, "wanna have sex" style one-liners were an all-too-common opening gambit among SL males. I didn't want to be that kind of SL guy.

Finally, I typed, "I like your profile."

"Thanks. Yours needs work." Hah, very funny - but true. No inane lying from this creature. "You're quite new to SL, I see."

"Actually, this is a new avatar," I explained, which was true. But then I lied, adding, "I made a new one because some really obnoxious people were stalking me." Seemed like a good excuse to be a non-newbie occupying a brand-new avatar. I felt I needed to make clear I was fairly familiar with the game and the environment.

"Ah ... a sort of second life inside SL, then."

"Hehe exactly."

"Well wb," [welcome back]. Some silence as I wondered how to proceed.

I wanted to know more, I wanted to know what sort of games this Angel played - besides flashing strangers in her virtual home. Ah, games ... that gave me an idea. "I see you're a member of a group called 'truth or dare' - how does one play truth or dare in SL?" I asked.

Her answer was pretty involved. Keep in mind that the dialogue I reproduce here isn't exact, as it's from memory - I didn't try to save it at the time, since it only occurred to me, much later, to write this all down.

"Well, truth is always problematic, and even more so, inside SL. But I believe everything anyone does or says in SL is, at some level, secretly true, if only at a subconscious level," she said.

The Angel had a quote in her profile that I hadn't quite figured out, up to that moment, but her statement just then made it completely clear to me: "SL is a mall for the id." So, cleverly, I parroted her quote at her.

"Haha exactly. So... ," she continued. "I don't worry about actual truthfulness, just ask questions and hear what's said. But obviously, one tends to ask questions about first lives rather than second lives (which are rather shallow and transparent). Which makes some people uncomfortable.

"The dares are less problematic. You can dare avatars to do things just as in real life - dance, kiss, yell something to a crowd ... whatever. More room for creativity than IRL, and the anonymity of SL means there's no such thing as going too far."

"Wow," I typed, sincerely.

"Wanna play?" she said, after a short pause.

"I've never done anything like this, in SL. But sure. How do we do it?"

"Take turns is the easiest. Just ask 'truth or dare' the other person picks ... like that."

"OK. You start," I said. Somehow, I'd never played truth or dare growing up - though there'd been a few episodes of spin the bottle during sleepovers as a teenager. Nevertheless, the idea of truth or dare had always intrigued me, I confess - it was another odd convergence of my father's and my fantasy life, it seemed.

"Truth or dare?" she asked.

"Truth," I answered.

"Your profile says you don't want to discuss first life... " she didn't actually put a question mark, but it was obviously a question.

"No, it's ok. It's just to keep people from throwing the inevitable ASL at me," I explained. Though I really hadn't decided whether to make up a complete alter ego to go with my avatar, or what.

"Is your real name Karl?" she asked, quickly.

"Yes," I answered without thinking. And that impulse decided me. I would not be sharing anything about my REAL first life - I was terrified of being discovered by my father in my deception. I was going to be inventing an alter ego here. A first-and-a-half life, to put sandwiched between first and second life.

There was a pause, and she typed, "your turn."

"Truth or dare?"


"Is your real name Angel?" I asked, making symmetries.

I was curious how far his own deception would go. Would he admit he was a 40 year old man to me, if it came to that? A 40 year old man pretending to be a gothic Lolita? And then what, if he did? And what if he didn't? What if he made up his own alter ego? I couldn't really hold the deception against him - not when I was doing the same thing.

"No, it's not." But she didn't volunteer anything. No, obviously, one wouldn't, not in a game of truth or dare. "Truth or dare?" she asked immediately.

"Truth," I said again.

"Have you ever played truth or dare IRL? When was it and who with?"

I had already basically decided, at this early point, to let my fantasies do my answering, so, quite untruthfully, I answered, "yes." And improvised, based on an erotic story I'd read a few months back: "Well, not exactly IRL - it was online - via chat, not in SL, about a year ago. With a woman I met online. It was quite fun, though"

A pause, and before I could ask, she selected, "truth."

"Um..." I typed, to let her know I was thinking. I didn't want to ask the same question, though I wanted to hear the answer. I wanted to show I had an imagination. Finally, "What's the craziest dare you've done, inside SL?" Partly, I was still a little puzzled as to what those dares might be.

Her answer: "I was dared to find a male newbie and take him to a sex club."

"Wow. I've never been to one of those, yet," I lied. I had ... though just to look around, voyeur-wise - I hadn't done anything there except watch various avatars engaged in cartoony, stylized sex acts.

"It's not really my thing, either," she said, unconvincingly, and justified, "it was a dare, though. I had to."

"LOL," I typed. Then, seeing how the game went, now, I said, "truth."

There was a pause, and finally, "In the game you played with the woman last year, what was the wildest dare you did?"

I thought for a minute. Remembering I was playing this from the male perspective. Thinking about the story I'd read that I'd had in mind when I gave my last answer. And then, thinking also of a few other stories in the same vein. One, in particular, seemed relevant, so I adeptly adapted the plot in my mind (in case there were follow-up questions), and made it true.

"Uh, it's kind of x-rated," I warned.

"LOL that's OK," she encouraged. "Mine was too, you just didn't get the details."

"Hmm yes. I was dared to go naked into the living room of my house and masturbate."

"I see." Was she disappointed?

So I volunteered, out of sheer perversity, "I wasn't home alone. It was late at night but I might have been caught."

Of course, this led her to ask, "who was there?"

"My daughter was asleep upstairs."

Now, I should explain at this point, about the whole incest theme - I'm sure you're wondering. Yes, I'd read stories with those sorts of themes - and I even had a specific one in mind, that my made-up "truth" was referencing.

But although I'd found such stories to be exciting at some level, I'd honestly never extended the thinking to my actual family - and if I had, I probably would have fantasized about my brother, not my dad - the brother-sister ones were the stories that, up to that point, interested me more. Or even the sister-sister ones. The story I was referencing was about a brother who masturbates in the living room on a dare and gets caught by his sister, but I'd already decided that in my role as Karl, I was older, so it made sense to make it a daughter upstairs, rather than a sister.

"Risky," she sympathized.

Would she ask me if I'd been caught? If she did, would I adapt that part of the story, too, or was that going too far, too soon? This was so strange ... and I was feeling erotically charged as I never had before - at least, never before when alone in front of a computer. For the first time in my life, the appeal of "cyber" became clear to me.

Sure enough, "so, can I ask ... did you get caught?"

"Uh, no." My courage gave out, I dropped the fantasy. Maybe later, I reassured myself - this was still only the first meeting. Somehow, I was already thinking that way - a first meeting. Meaning ... there would be others.

"That's a relief," she said, and the avatar threw her head back in laughter. Then, "truth."

I had just told myself, I didn't want to force the issue, but I found myself typing, "what's your real name?"

"You might be disappointed," she answered.

"How so?" I asked, my stomach dropping. Was dad going to be truthful with me? That would complicate things further - how could I justify this deception if he came clean?

"Well, you realize of course that one's SL avatar is not necessarily anything like what one is like in real life..."

I was perhaps curt, in my disappointment, not to mention hypocritical, as I realized dad was going to tell the truth. I typed, "oh. Are you trying to say you're actually a guy?"

"LOL, I see you're not naive about SL," he answered quickly.

"Nope. No big deal - I'm open-minded." That, at least, was the truth, though now guilt was pulsing through my mind uncomfortably. "So ... what's your name?"

"Well, actually, it's Carl."

"OMG that's hilarious," I feigned. At the coincidence - Karl and Carl, you know. "Well, you have a very cute avatar," I added.

"Thanks. She's my pride and joy."

"LOL," I typed, but found myself experiencing a profoundly disturbing and completely unexpected emotion - jealousy. Daughter-jealousy. My father had created an avatar, obviously modeled on me (at some level, anyway), and was here describing her as his "pride and joy." What about ME, daddy, I wanted to whine, like a little girl.

And then, my mind spun on further. He could make his avatar-daughter do whatever he wished. He had her doing sexual dares, and flashing strangers. Which somehow, were exactly the sorts of fantasies I nurtured in my own secret soul. My god, did he harbor such fantasies about me? Did I find such a notion disgusting, or erotic? Or, damnit, both? Crap.

I dared to ask, "is she modeled on someone you know?" Would he tell the truth?

"Hmm," he answered, to show he was thinking. Then, "loosely, on my daughter, I confess," he said.

I suppose, in SL, with its layers of anonymity, it actually might be easier for some people to tell the truth. Perhaps, in different circumstances, I might have told the truth, but I was already enmeshed in a web of deception that I didn't dare allow to break down.

I wondered if perhaps his frankness with me was in part due to the hint I'd dropped just shortly before that my alter ego Karl had intentionally placed himself in a situation where he might have been caught by his own daughter, masturbating. It showed I was willing to consider such possibilities. Hmm.

So, I pondered. How would a male react, to that confession? A male with a daughter of his own? I had to hypothesize, but the result came off both crude and sanctimonious, I thought. Not to mention, it rather accelerated the whole thing, uncomfortably. "So, does that mean your daughter go around without panties on, flashing strangers?"

"OMG you noticed! Cute, huh?"

"Mm yes," I said, with what I hoped was the right sort of male wolfishness.

"Well, no - not that I know of, anyway," he said.

"I guess SL is a place to act out fantasies," I prompted. I wanted to make him admit it.

"Exactly," he agreed, all-too-enthusiastically. The truth or dare game was, for the moment, apparently forgotten. "Tell me you weren't imagining getting caught by your daughter, when you did that dare you described earlier." Gotcha!

"Uhmm," I typed, to buy some time. Crap, that had been the back story, hadn't it? Now I didn't feel very clean, pursuing it. Not after my dad had admitted to fantasies about his daughter. About me.

"I suppose I was," I falsely confessed. Would he make me elaborate? Why was my imagination taking this in so many horrible, disgusting, totally horny-making directions? To defend myself, I took the offensive. "So your daughter's never flashed you or anything?"

"Not on purpose, I don't think," he answered.

"But?" I prompted.

"A few years back, I saw something unexpected," he explained. My heart was beating very fast.


"She'd come out of the shower wrapped in a towel. She was going up the stairs."

I couldn't recall an incident. But I know that more than once, I'd climbed the stairs at my father's place wrapped in a towel ... there was no bathroom on the loft-like second level, but that's where the guest rooms were that my brother and I used when visiting. I didn't think there was anywhere one could stand that would allow anything to be visible, looking up the stairs. But obviously I was wrong. I was afraid to ask for details, but the idea that my father had seen my naked pussy up my towel as I went up the stairs was freakishly arousing. Why had none of this ever crossed my mind before? What was wrong with me, now?

"I see," I finally answered, nonchalantly.

It was to be expected that he'd flip the question back at me - I mean, as long as we're talking about sexy daughters and all that, between us guys, right? "Have you ever caught your daughter at anything like that?"

I had read plenty of stories. About daughters and fathers, nieces and uncles, mothers and sons, sisters and brothers, women and strangers. No shortage of material. But I had to make it plausible, I thought. And suddenly I very much wanted to tell as sexy a little anecdote as I could come up with. I loved making up stories, anyway. I improvised.

"Actually, a few times." I wanted to leave room for more imaginary anecdotes, later, of course. There were already several coursing through my brain. I chose the mildest.

"Once, it was quite late, and I was up watching tv, and she came down in her long t-shirt and panties, you know the kind girls wear to bed. And she joined me watching tv, saying she couldn't sleep. And the movie I was watching was a romantic comedy or something, I'd seen it before and had been channel surfing when she came in, but she was clearly enjoying it so I left it on. She was braless under the thin material of her top, and when the scene in the movie got sexy, I literally got to watch her nipples harden. I don't think she was aware."

Not a bad bit of improvisation, I thought, though this retelling may have improved the style and continuity somewhat.

Angel (Carl) (dad) said, "wow, cool."

Before he could ask for another anecdote, I asked, quite explicitly (throwing timidity to the wind, I guess), "have you ever seen your daughter's nipples?"

"Hmm ... A few times, through a top on a cold afternoon or something. But, not really - not like what you describe."

God, was I disappointed? And I looked down at my own front, my own modest tits, now braless under my unsexy pink pajama shirt, and saw how rigid and huge my nipples looked through the cloth. Wow. And my mind took off in yet another unwonted (and unwanted) direction, as I found myself thinking, well, I'll have to remedy that!

Was I suddenly contemplating flashing my dad, on purpose? Was I going to have to admit to myself that I found the idea that he had fantasies about his daughter a turn on?

I felt shame and arousal burning up my whole skin. Impulsively, for the moment frightened by the momentum of the situation, I typed, "hey listen I've got to run. can I talk to you later?"

Then, before he could even answer, I logged off. Sudden departures weren't uncommon in SL - there were technical issues, and the fact was that many players were multitasking, and would often get pulled away to other tasks.

I sat and stared at the screen of my computer, blankly, having just experienced the most intense, erotically charged, guilt-inducing, profoundly self-embarrassing hour of my life. I didn't even make it to bed, before I'd fingered myself through two sequential, extremely powerful orgasms. And the visual I'd conjured into my head, as I was consumed by the second of these orgasms, was a fantasy of me watching my father, seated at his computer, masturbating furiously (I knew what it looked like, when guys do it, I'd seen my Brandon do it, and it had always been a turn on for me), as he contemplated his own fantasies, which, in my fantasy, were fantasies about me, watching him. I fell asleep, feeling extremely guilty.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Incest / Father / Daughter / Masturbation / Slow /