Chapter 5: Virgin Delights

Steve Davis

I shook my head, my hands shaking as they clutched my phone. My wife was gay ... She was cheating on me with her friend Marissa. How long had this been going on? For years, Linda had gone to visit Marissa. Four times a year they got together for their weekend visit and...

They were having lesbian sex. My wife—my homophobic wife who was afraid out eldest daughter was gay—was gay herself. My stomach twisted and churned. I glanced at Anael, the slender angel watching me with her purple eyes. She was ... curious, her head cocked. She didn’t know how I would react to the revelation.

I swallowed, staring at my phone. I had switched back to my youngest daughter, Sam, walking home after her own lesbian orgy with three of her friends, another shocking revelation. It was hot watching my fourteen-year-old daughter having sex. And now my wife was fooling around with Marissa, who was a beautiful woman and...

“Fuck,” I muttered and switched who my app was focused on.

My wife was kissing Marissa, fondling the woman’s round breasts. Their tongues were dancing, both of them moaning on the bed. My wife had her right arm hooked around Marissa’s neck, holding the black-haired woman tight. My dick was so hard again. I moved the camera, watching them. My wife’s fingers dug into Marissa’s tit, her thumb swiping over a dusky nipple.

“I can’t believe this,” I muttered. Even though I’d cheated on my wife with Kyleigh today, learning of my wife’s infidelity had me reeling. I’d only cheated on her because of what happened, the temptation of this device, but my wife...

Did she even love me?

I thought we had a great sex life. Maybe it had gotten a little stale over the years, but she was so affectionate before she left, and when she returned from these weekend trips, she always felt so loving. Was it all an act?

Their moans echoed from my phone’s speakers. I had to know. My heart pounded as I dug into her menu, navigating quickly. I hit her Main Menu. I moved fast. Spirituality. Sexuality. Orientation. The sliding bar appeared. On my daughter Sam, she was almost dead in the middle, just a few percentage points on the heterosexual side, making her almost purely bi. My wife ... My wife was barely into the bi section. Far more into men than Sam was. It was almost like ... my wife hardly needed to be with a woman.

Only four times a year...

I returned to the Spirituality Menu and hit the Social Sub-Menu.

Social Charisma Awareness Relationships Mores

I hit relationships and saw the list. I was at the top with Marissa number two, then Becky, our son James, and then Sam was farther down the list, a group of my wife’s friends between them. I clicked on my own name and read how she felt about me. My wife felt guilty for cheating on me. She loved me but had this desire for other women.

Relief unclenched the fear crushing my heart. She did still love me. Desired me.

I checked out Marissa. Their relationship stretched all the way back to their freshman year in college. Linda was having sex with Marissa before we ever went on our date. There was such conflict in it. My wife couldn’t control herself.

I backed out to the Spirituality Menu and tapped Morality Sub-Menu.

Morality Legality Outlook

I clicked the Outlook Sub-Menu. Her moral beliefs appeared in a list. I found her views on homosexuality. She truly believed it was a sin. Her cravings for Marrisa were making her feel so guilty for not only cheating on me but that she was engaged in something she thought was wrong. It must be twisting in her. No wonder she was so scared of Becky being gay. She didn’t want our eldest to have this same inner turmoil.

I could fix that. I looked at the list I was making. The tweaks I could make to my wife. I didn’t even have to make her like girls to accept my ... expanded sex life. I just had to edit her morality. I could take away her guilt.

“You want a harem with your wife and daughters,” Anael purred. “You’ve made your choice, haven’t you?”

I shifted, my dick so hard. I stared at my wife again as she was now on top of Marissa, their bodies pressed tight as they kissed. They were grinding together. Marissa’s hands squeezed and kneaded my wife’s rump.

“Yeah,” I admitted.

Sam Davies

I buzzed as I walked home from Rita’s house. I loved our Friday afternoon orgies. It was so much fun unwinding at the end of the week. If I couldn’t have sex with the man I craved, then getting off with my friends was the next best thing. If Christians wanted straight girls to not have premarital sex with the boys, then they needed to encourage them to seek each other out for satisfaction.

It kept my cherry intact and meant I didn’t have to worry about pregnancies while I was satiating my pussy. Of course, I really liked girls. Some of my friends just did it for the pleasure, dreaming of the hunkiest guy at our school. Well, the hunkiest student. The hunkiest guy was my dad. Such wicked, incestuous lust burned inside of me. Dad was so sexy. He was an intelligent man, an English teacher, but he also could get his hands dirty. He could talk to you about Shakespeare while stripping down an engine.

He was so cool. Not like mom. I was glad she was gone for the weekend with her dumb friend. Part of me hoped she never came back. She wanted me to be a perfect woman. Wear skirts, act primly, stop working in the garage, to care about my fingernails. Who cared if they were a little ragged. I worked on cars. If I had a perfect manicure, a few hours working wrenches would ruin that.

It was all so dumb. It was the twenty-first century. Girls could dress like boys if they wanted. She was such a prude.

Dad was cool. He didn’t care if I wore skirts. He let me be around him. I could just float away right now as I imagined he was talking to me right now. He wanted to do things to me and—

“Hey, Sam, want a ride?”

I jumped, letting out a squeak. Dad’s car was creeping down the street, his window down. My heart beat so fast as I stared at him. He was such a handsome man, mature, with such a confident masculinity about him. He was in great shape, his dark-brown hair swept back, a tall man. The one good thing about mom: she was a health nut. She made sure dad jogged and kept in shape. Even his reading glasses only made him hotter.

“Well, kumquat?” he asked.

“Right, right,” I said, my heart racing. “You scared me, Daddy.”

“Thinking about boys?” he asked, a teasing grin on his face.

“Dad!” I groaned, my cheeks burning. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t tell him the truth. He was a good man, a deacon at our church. He wouldn’t commit incest. He didn’t have these depraved desires in him for me. Plus, I was just a kid. Fourteen. He wouldn’t care about me. He had Mom. She was beautiful.

Why couldn’t she get fat and ugly like Courtney’s mom?

I darted out into the quiet street and hopped into the passenger door. Feeling flustered and hot, I couldn’t help going in to give him a kiss, aiming for his right cheek, as close as I could get to his mouth. My arm shot around his neck as I leaned in and...

He turned just so slightly, changing my trajectory. My lips met his. My pussy clenched at the contact. A burst of heat rippled through me. My nipples hardened, throbbing in my bra. My thighs squeezed so tight, my slacks rubbing together as he didn’t pull away.

Our lips felt glued together. I was too scared to move them, to truly kiss my father. I just held them against him. Trembling. I wanted to moan. To groan out how hot this made me. More and more warmth rippled out of my snatch and...

His hand rested on my thigh.

A whimpering excitement shot through me as I felt him rubbing my thigh right above my knee. I wanted to jam my tongue into his mouth. I pulled away, my cheeks burning. They had to be so scarlet. My heart screamed in my chest. I wanted to confess to him. I wanted to tell him how much I ached for him.

He broke the kiss. “You are looking pretty today,” Dad said, his eyes flicking up and down my body. “Just my cute tomboy.”

I squirmed as he drove down the street, his hand still on my thigh. This strange excitement filled the air. It swirled through me. It was so different. It was like something had changed in our relationship. His hand squeezed my thigh, sending tingles racing to my pussy. This wet heat built and built in me.

What should I do? Was this all in my imagination? Had he felt my incestuous desires when our lips met? Did he ... think about me the same way?

“So, I bet you’re glad that your mother’s away,” he said, his hand climbing higher. I squirmed, blood rushing through me. I was almost dizzy.

I nodded my head, too afraid to speak.

“No fighting with her, huh?” he asked. “You won’t have to hear her complaining about you coming out to work on the car.”

I nodded my head again. His hand ... He was reaching higher. Did he ... want me? Me? I was so skinny. I didn’t have tits. Not like Mom or Becky. I knew my older sister had the hots for Dad, too. Good thing she was too shy to ever do anything about it.

“I like working on old cars,” he said as he turned onto our street. “You know why?”

I shook my head, my short hair caressing my cheeks.

“It makes me feel young,” he said. He took his hand off the steering wheel to hit the garage door opener clipped to the sun visor. It opened ahead as he turned into our driveway. “I like that. Feeling young.”

I swallowed.

Our current project, a 1969 Chevrolet Impala, was up on blocks, half-assembled. It looked more skeleton than a car. I shivered as he pulled into the garage behind it, his hand closing in on my crotch, fingers pressing my pants against my flesh, caressing me. He hit the remote again.

The garage door trundled close behind us. It clanked and rattled. It grew darker and darker in the garage. More and more intimate. This lusty fear squeezed about my heart as I stared at Dad, his dark eyes peering back at me. The garage door boomed close.

We were in our own world.

That energy I felt became magnetic. I suddenly couldn’t stop myself. My lips were pulled towards his, attracted. I shifted towards him, my breathing so tight. The pressure almost crushing my heart, choking my lungs. A dizziness washed over me, little stars bursting across my eyes as I came closer and closer to him.

This was happening. Finally.

Our lips met again. This time, it was no accident. I didn’t have to pretend to be just a daughter. I could be what I truly craved. I could be his lover. My tongue thrust into his mouth as our lips worked together. My heart pounded so fast. The energy rippled through me, tingling from my lips and washing down my body.

My nipples hardened.

My pussy clenched.

His hand crept closer to my pussy. My hot, wet, juicy snatch. My hand found his thigh. I felt his muscles through his slacks as I mirrored his hand. I climbed up him as our tongues met. They danced together as we groaned.

We made out. We kissed each other with such hunger. My world shrunk to this car. To just my sexy dad. Incestuous passion rippled through me. Such a dizzying heat washed through me. It was amazing. I loved it. My daddy was kissing me, his hand reaching my crotch.

My legs spread wide, giving him access. His fingers were so thick. Not a dainty teenager’s fingers, but a man’s. His digits pressed my panties into my snatch, sliding up and down my virgin slit. I shuddered; my clit sparked with delight, showering through me. I moaned into his lips, my hand sliding higher and higher.

He was hard.

My dad was hard for me.

I felt his cock through his slacks. His girth. My pussy clenched. My virgin flesh wanted his incestuous shaft. This dick slid into Mom’s pussy and impregnated her with me. I came from him. I loved this so much. I squeezed his girth, my thumb massaging the tip through his slacks.

He kissed me harder now with the aggression my teenage friends lacked. He devoured my mouth. His fingers rubbed harder at my crotch. My pussy was so wet. Were my juices soaking through my panties and my pants? Was he feeling my passion?

I hoped he was.

My fingers searched for his zipper. I wanted to feel him directly. Do things to his cock. I could give him a handjob. A blowjob. We could ... go all the way. The zipper rasped as I drew it down. I went so slowly I could hear every individual tooth coming apart. I whimpered, my heart squeezing and—

The door opened. The garage lights flicked on.

“Dad,” Becky called as I wrenched myself away from my sister, gasping for breath. “There’s something wrong with the sink.”

I wanted to shriek. I was so close to doing naughty things with him!

Steve Davies

My heart raced as I stepped out of the car. Becky, my eldest daughter, stood in the doorway of the garage, her auburn hair pulled back from her face. She wore it in her usual braid. She still wore her Rainier Christian High School uniform, her skirt looking so sexy as it fell down her thighs. There was a purity about the seventeen-year-old girl.

“What’s up with the sink?” I asked.

“It’s leaking,” she said. Her eyes flicked to the car. “Did I ... interrupt anything.”

“Just talking to your sister,” I lied. Becky and Sam both had crushes on me and both were jealous of the other. It explained so much of the sniping behavior between them. That would change tomorrow. I would adjust my wife and daughters then Sunday I would edit James to keep him distracted. I think it would bring those girls from his dream to life.

And, finally, on Monday I would turn my attention back to making my town of Rainier into a better place.

“Did you need anything else?” I asked Becky.

She shook her head. “I have homework.”

My eldest whirled around, her skirt flaring and her braid swinging. Then she darted into the house. Sam hopped out of the car, her face flushed. That kiss was exciting. My daughter wanted to do things with me. I didn’t even have to edit her as I had with Kyleigh. That felt ... better to me. I wasn’t making my daughter into my lover, I was just ... facilitating her wish. As Anael said, I was just changing the circumstances of the world to improve people.

And if I got to benefit from it, what was so wrong about that?

Sam’s face was flushed, her dark-red hair swayed about her cheeks as she shivered. She glanced at me, the car between us. She squirmed, trembling. She was bold, but still growing into her sexuality. She didn’t have the confidence of a more experienced woman.

“The kiss was ... nice,” I said.

She nodded her head.

“Later on tonight ... if you’re interested...”

She shuddered and nodded her head with such intensity.

“Tonight,” I said. I smiled at her. “Why don’t you order some pizzas for dinner. After your siblings go to bed, well, we can talk more. In my bedroom.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she said, her voice tight. She pulled out her phone, her face furrowing. I half-expected her to call the pizza place, but none of my kids used their phones as actual phones. They didn’t talk on them if they could help it. She must be doing some sort of online ordering.

I pulled out my phone and open the app while my daughter took care of dinner. I didn’t choose to freeze reality, so I was surprised when Anael appeared leaning naked against the car. I froze for a moment as the angel sauntered naked around to my daughter. But Sam didn’t see the petite sexy beauty.

I filed away that fact.

“You don’t even have to edit her, and you’ll get her virginity tonight,” Anael purred.

My dick throbbed as I navigated my daughter’s menus. Spirituality. Social. Relationships. Sam’s feelings about me had changed. No longer did she think there was no chance to have me as a lover. Now she was eager for it. She wanted it. I backed up to Sexuality Menu.

Sexuality Orientation Desires Libido Taboos

I clicked Desires and right there at the top was:

Lose cherry to Daddy

I grinned. She wanted it more than anything. And it would happen tonight. My daughter walked forward, passing through Anael. The angel rippled for a moment. When her form grew distinct she giggled and shook her head as Sam headed inside. I followed, putting away my phone.

“Enjoy,” Anael purred as she faded away.

Inside, Sam was sitting on the couch while I headed to the kitchen. Becky, weirdly, wasn’t up in her bedroom but downstairs in the dining room, working on her homework. She glanced at me, shifting as I looked at the sink. There wasn’t a leak at all. The handle just had to be tightened all the way to stop the drip.

I glanced at my daughter. She was so jealous but was too shy to do anything about that. I would take care of everything. I would make my family happy and closer than ever. My dick throbbing, I headed out to the living room where my iPad waited. While Sam was playing on her phone, sitting close to me, I made sure my plans were all organized for editing my family, glancing at the App for reference.

“What are you doing, Daddy?” Sam asked me right before the pizza arrived.

“A special project to make everyone happy,” I told her while Anael sat cuddled against my daughter, Sam utterly oblivious to the truth around her.

Sam Davies

Finally, Becky and James were in their bedrooms. Neither were asleep—James was drawing his pervy anime sluts, and Becky was studying, as usual—but they had retired for the night. It was time. My pussy was on fire. I couldn’t wait any longer. This night dragged on so long. I hardly enjoyed the pizza we had for dinner. I couldn’t focus at all as I played Street Fighter V with James. He kicked my ass up and down the screen with Chun-Li.

I didn’t win a match.

“It’s not much fun kicking your ass if you don’t even try,” my brother had said, shaking his head. “The victory isn’t as sweet.”

“Asshole,” I’d muttered.

“That’s the best you can do?” He’d shook his head. “Insult me.”

I got along great with James. If he was a little cuter, maybe I’d have a crush on him instead of Daddy, but he just lacked that masculine confidence of our father. He was a boy, a year older than me. Besides, he’d rather jerk it off to his Anime girls than to a flat-chested chick like me.

I hoped Daddy wouldn’t mind that only had little A cups. Mom had tits. I wish I’d inherited hers.

I slipped out of my room in my pajama bottoms, a pair of flannel pants, and a matching, powder-blue tank top. I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties, eager to get naughty with my daddy. I would get so wild. I stared down the dark hallway, my parents’ bedroom at the far end. My bare feet padded along the carpet.

Becky’s door opened and my older sister stepped out in her nightgown, something feminine, something that Mom would want me to wear. My sister blinked when she saw me. I swallowed, a strange twist to my stomach.

Was she sneaking to our dad’s bed? A surge of hot, vicious jealousy rippled through me. I wanted to spring at her and smack her ass and drive her back into her bedroom. She had breasts. She had curves. I couldn’t let her draw Daddy’s attention from me.

“What are you up to?” I asked.

“Just studying,” she answered.

“In the hallway?”

“Just getting a glass of water.” She glanced at me. “You?”

“Peeing,” I lied. Then I darted into the bathroom.

I closed the door behind me, pressing it against me. My stomach thudded as I heard her head down the stairs. My breathing rose and fell. Why did she have to be up right now? Why was she trying to stop me from getting to Daddy? I kept my ear pressed to the door, listening to her.

If she tried to go into Daddy’s bedroom...

It felt like it took an eternity for her to return from downstairs. How long did it take to fill a glass of water? I squirmed against the door, my heart pounding, my pussy so wet. I needed to be with Dad. I needed to lose my cherry. I needed it more than anything else.