That night I couldn't sleep, and who could blame me? It had taken me a few hours to connect my daughters' innocent proclamation of love with what I had read earlier on the internet. Iwuvmydaddy and Iwuvmydaddy2. Was it possible?
I had been lying in bed when I made the connection, and it jolted me awake. I felt an eerie chill creep up and down my spine as all the ramifications hit me at once. My own little girls. Innocent, kind, gentle, sweet. How could they possibly be associated with those tramps hidden behind a couple of semi-anonymous usernames on an illicit site in one of the seedier neighborhoods on the internet?
I tossed and turned for over an hour contemplating this, and growing more and more disturbed all the time. If my innocent little girls were capable of that kind of behavior on the internet, what else were they capable of? My wife and I had waited until our wedding night before having sex, and being the conservative couple that we were, we had expected our daughters to do the same. We had told them in no uncertain terms that just because times were changing didn't mean that they had to give up their correct morals in favor of the looser standard of society. But now I just couldn't get the thought out of my head that Amber, and perhaps even Linda, were starting to experiment with things they shouldn't. They were playing with fire. Would Amber come home one day and announce she was pregnant? Would Linda come down with some kind of STD?
Night time tends to enhance emotions and strip away logic and reason, and in this state all of my greatest fears came crashing down on me. No wonder I couldn't sleep. I had to do something. I had to reassure myself that my daughters were still the innocent girls I believed them to be. If not, then the world I knew was ending, and I stood on the brink of a new one, unprepared and terrified.
I've always handled stress well. I tend to use it to motivate myself, and in this case I put my insomnia to good use. Climbing out of bed, I slipped downstairs to my den to do a little research on the internet.
My first target, of course, was the site where I had posted my illicit tales. Fortunately that site had a mechanism to track the comments of the members, so I took some time to find out what else Iwuvmydaddy and Iwuvmydaddy2 had to say. From that alone I was able to build up a pretty decent profile of the girls. They were teenagers, both living at home. That meant that if Iwuvmydaddy was old enough to legally access that kind of site, she was only barely so. And that meant that there could be no question that Iwuvmydaddy2 was too young. I also determined that the girls were bisexual, having fooled around with some of their girlfriends and even each other, although they still liked men. One man, at least. Their daddy. On the forums they tended to flirt a lot, teasing all the boys playfully but always making it clear that they were only interested in a sexual relationship with their father. Iwuvmydaddy2 in particular was fascinated with the idea of performing oral sex on him. She had practiced on various vegetables, but never on a real boy.
I was also surprised to discover that I was their favorite author. They enjoyed many of the erotic stories on the site, but they considered mine to be the best. Strangely enough, I had even communicated directly with Iwuvmydaddy a couple of times through Private Messages on the site. Mainly she had just asked when my next story would come out and I had given her my usual response of "I'm working on a lot of them at the moment so I can't make any promises." I got a lot of PM's like that, so I hadn't really paid much attention to hers in particular.
I was of mixed feelings about these revelations. First, it was apparent that the two girls were still technically virgins. At least, they had never been with a man or a boy before, though considering how constantly aroused they were, there was no telling what had found its way inside them. It was kind of a relief to discover this; even if my worst fears were realized, they were still safe from pregnancy and diseases.
The discovery that they were bisexual bothered me a little. I knew that a lot of girls experimented with their girlfriends in their teenage years; it was just a part of growing up. But I had never believed that it would happen to my girls. No, they were supposed to be wholesome and clean. They would never let themselves fall into that kind of lifestyle, even just to experiment. I had to admit that the idea of lesbians turned me on, and I had written about my fair share in my erotic stories. But to apply that label to my girls was downright disturbing.
I admit I felt a little pride at how much they enjoyed my stories. An author always likes to know that his work is appreciated, especially by people who are real and not just a name on the internet. My friends had always been supportive of my day job, but I could never be sure if that was just because they were my friends. Here I had a couple of girls who had no ulterior motives for praising my stories (as far as they knew) and yet they still praised them. Furthermore, these girls might even be my daughters, so I had more of a connection to them than I had to the other members of the site.
I had a suspicion about why they enjoyed my stories so much. My daughters liked to read my real, published stories, despite my books generally being aimed at an older audience. They gave me valuable feedback, telling me what they liked and didn't like. They knew that I wanted them to be honest, and they were. My writing style had developed in part because of their opinions. Thus, when that writing style made its way into my erotic tales, those stories naturally appealed to the girls who had helped create that style in the first place.
There was one more emotion that I almost couldn't bring myself to admit. I tried to convince myself that it was just an extension of the author's pride, but I really couldn't fool myself. The girls were attracted to their father. Me. They thought I was sexy, and they wanted to take their relationship with me beyond what was wholesome and decent. I felt a certain swelling of pride at that thought, and even a touch of arousal.
That all assumed, of course, that Iwuvmydaddy and Iwuvmydaddy2 were Amber and Linda. I still had no proof of that. I decided to widen my search.
It turned out that the girls were active members of several other sites that I frequented, mostly incest-themed sites. Apparently they shared the same interests as I did. For a while I was worried that perhaps they had been tracking me. Maybe one of my daughters had crept into my den when I wasn't around and found my secret bookmarks. But there wasn't enough overlap between the sites I frequented and the sites where the girls' usernames showed up to justify that kind of worrying.
The girls used the same usernames on several sites, including some I had never been to before. I hate to admit that I added a couple of sites to my bookmarks that night. As I tracked down their comments, I discovered that they were sometimes quite witty; they gave me a few chuckles despite my anxiety. The most humorous though was a self-help forum for victims of incestuous sexual abuse. I know I shouldn't have laughed over such a serious topic, but I couldn't help myself upon reading the reactions of the members of that forum when Iwuvmydaddy and Iwuvmydaddy2 gave their frank and graphic opinion of why incest wasn't so bad. Needless to say, those were the only comments by the girls on that site before they got banned.
I spent all night locked away in my cave trying to find something to connect those usernames to my daughters, and the sun was beginning to rise when I finally called it quits. I had learned very little; the online personas of the two girls were consistent throughout the sites they frequented. They were a couple of bisexual, incestuous sisters who wanted to seduce their father. But I couldn't be sure that they were my daughters.
Even if they were, I realized that things might not be as bad as they seemed. After all, I had my own online persona that was quite different from the real me. It was possible that Amber and Linda were just using the internet as an escape valve to let off some of their sexual energy that they were otherwise suppressing. Maybe they were just healthy, normal, good girls after all. I couldn't exactly begrudge them their online fantasies since I was doing exactly the same thing. In fact, maybe this was a good thing. Maybe flirting online was keeping them from acting out their fantasies in real life. If so, I would make sure my wife had a talk with them about internet predators, and that would be the end of it.
Still, I couldn't let this go. I just had to know the truth.
One benefit of working at home was that I could afford to stay up late and sleep in. I lay down and had a couple of hours of surprisingly untroubled sleep. By the time I awoke, Amber and Linda had already left for the day. Since it was nearing eleven, I grabbed a quick brunch and started thinking about what to do with an empty house all day.
I knew what I had to do, but I dreaded doing it. It would mean a serious breach of trust; I would be violating my daughters' privacy. But as I sat there thinking and worrying about it, I realized that I had no other choice.
Amber and Linda shared a bedroom; the original plan was to give Amber her own bedroom because she was the oldest, but she and Linda actually preferred to share, so Chelsea got her own. Right now I wasn't concerned about Chelsea, especially since Amber and Linda had an old computer of mine in their bedroom, a hand-me-down from when I had bought a new one for myself. I insisted that it was only for homework, though I was pretty lenient on letting them bend that rule, which I had put in place mainly to give me justification for removing privileges if they used the device for something immoral or unethical. I had the feeling that I was about to discover exactly that.
With reluctance I climbed the stairs to the upper hall, then knocked on their bedroom door just in case I was wrong about them already being gone. Hearing no answer, I opened it and peered in.
They had decorated it in typical feminine fashion, with flowery and lacy designs on their bed sheets, posters of cats and horses on the walls (Amber liked cats and Linda liked horses), and even a couple of stuffed animals at the foot of Amber's bed.
Suddenly, I realized something. Cats and horses. Not unusual for a couple of teenage girls, but there was something missing. Where were the posters of the latest teenage heartthrob, the handsome young pop star that all teenage girls were in love with? Did that mean that my daughters were smitten by someone else? Someone closer to home, perhaps?
The evidence was still extremely sketchy and circumstantial, and biased by my own experiences. My own sisters when I was growing up had posters of movie stars and singers on their walls, but that in no way meant that it was universal. For the billionth time I wished I knew more about what went through a woman's mind.
I sat down in the chair in front of their desk and booted the computer. My heart pounded in my chest, both out of anxiety for doing something I shouldn't, and out of fear for what I might find. The girls were fairly computer literate, but I had studied computer science in college, so I was the real geek of the family. Even if they were trying to hide things from me, I was fairly confident that I knew more about security than they did, and therefore I would be able to discover even things they didn't want me to know about.
I will not admit to feeling guilt over prying into their personal things like this. Regret, yes. I wished the situation were different, so that I wouldn't have been forced into this position. I promised myself that if I discovered anything that had no bearing on my investigation, I would leave it alone and forget about it. I didn't need to know if they had a crush on a certain boy in school or if there was a girl who was their arch-nemesis or even if they cheated on a test. It wouldn't be fair for me to confront them about those things; that would really be a violation of their privacy. What I was searching for was evidence that they were headed down a one-way path to self-destruction.
I'll admit that for the first hour or two, I found nothing. They had been smart enough to clear away all traces of their online history, and most of their bookmarks pointed to academic, informational, and social networking sites, with a few online game sites thrown in. It was all quite harmless. I discovered folders full of homework assignments and both of the girls' diaries. I debated about peeking into the latter, and I spent some time looking around the rest of their computer before finally giving in and coming back to those diaries. It turned out to be a moot point anyway, because the files were in a dedicated journal program which automatically encrypted the diaries, and I didn't have the password.
With time plodding slowly and relentlessly on and no smoking gun found, I was beginning to feel much better. It was all just a coincidence, nothing more. There was no connection between my daughters' statements last night and the names of those naughty girls on the internet.
Then I stumbled onto the folder that proved that my worst fears were true.
They had hidden it well; it had the somewhat cryptic yet mostly innocent name of "IWMD" and was buried under four layers of the hierarchy of files and folders. I had already given up on trying to find anything obvious and was just casually browsing folders when I opened it and discovered that it was filled with images. That shouldn't have surprised me; all three of my daughters had digital cameras and they loved to take pictures. However, I had already found the folder where they stored their photos; the girls each had their own folder, and it seemed pretty inclusive.
As soon as I opened the first picture, I realized why they had kept this one separate. It was a photo of Amber in the backyard, wearing what I considered to be an obscenely tiny bikini. Where she got it I didn't know; I wouldn't have bought it for her, and Carrie was even more strict than I was concerning modesty so she wouldn't have bought it for her either.
Still, if that were the worst of their indiscretions, I could accept it. Let them have their little secret; it wasn't worth getting too upset over.
I browsed through the photos, most of them of Amber striking various poses, some innocent and some not so innocent. There was nothing particularly lewd, although she seemed to be a natural at managing sexy poses. She certainly knew how to work that sixteen-year-old body.
The photographer, probably Linda, knew what she was doing too. Carrie was much better at photography than I was, and she had passed on some of her skills to her daughters. These photos had just the right composition and lighting to look almost professional. Amber, with her blond hair, blue eyes and perfectly toned body, looked like a model in a swimsuit catalog.
Then the two girls obviously switched places, because suddenly I found myself staring at Linda wearing a bikini that should be illegal to sell to a fourteen-year-old girl. It dawned on me that maybe the girls hadn't bought those bikinis after all. Amber was more than competent at sewing. And it couldn't be all that hard to stitch together a couple of triangles of fabric, especially considering that to my eyes, there seemed to be hardly any fabric there at all.
Linda's poses were less adventurous than Amber's had been, but just as sexy. I can't deny that I found myself admiring her young body. Both my girls were gorgeous, and considering my taste for young girls in fiction, it should come as no surprise that seeing them mostly undressed like this gave me an erotic thrill.
By this time, I was feeling a little tight in the pants. It really didn't bother me that I was getting turned on by the sight of my daughters almost completely naked. When I first commenced my hobby of writing incestuous erotic fiction, I did my homework to find out if I was some kind of freak. I discovered that not only is incest a common sexual fantasy, but there are plenty of fathers who have been sexually attracted to their daughters at one time or another. Most did the right thing and suppressed those feelings until they went away. There was no reason why I couldn't do the same thing.
A few photos later, the girls switched position again, but this time I opened my eyes in shock. Amber had removed her top, and stood there completely bare-chested facing the camera with nothing left to hide. I couldn't help staring at her young yet well-rounded breasts, with pointy little nipples. She had a gorgeous body; almost as gorgeous as her mother's, though not quite so developed. A shudder ran down my spine as conflicted feelings of lust, anger, and disgust hit me. My girls shouldn't be taking these kinds of pictures, and I most definitely shouldn't be getting horny over them.
The look on Amber's face was of playful embarrassment; no doubt the girls had worked up to this by daring each other to take the next step. The fact that she didn't appear to be comfortable posing topless like that placated me somewhat. They had crossed the line, but I could still get away with having Carrie talk to them about it later.
Something compelled me to go on. I couldn't stop myself, but clicked through the next few photographs, all of a topless Amber striking a series of erotic poses.
When Linda tried some topless poses a few images later, I felt even more ashamed of my feelings. Not only was I her father, but she was only fourteen. Just a little girl, as far as I was concerned. But I knew that wasn't entirely true, and that only intensified my shame; I had written plenty of stories involving girls that young.
Linda's body wasn't as developed as even her sister's; her breasts were small a-cups, just beginning to develop. She had only a trace of the womanly curves that Amber was already developing nicely, but even that juvenile shape had a certain appeal. There was no doubt that both girls would become a couple of knockouts in a couple of years.
Fortunately there weren't too many more photos; Linda wasn't as adventurous or bold as her big sister, so she had probably insisted on ending their fun early. I was about to shut down the computer when I noticed a couple of sub-folders in the IWMD folder. I opened the first one, labeled "P," and found another series of images.
As soon as I opened the first one, I groaned. It was a photo of one of Amber's friends, sitting on the bed in what was probably her bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of panties. As with the pictures of my daughters, it left nothing to the imagination.
Now I realized what was going on here. It was the latest popular craze with teenagers these days, for friends to send naughty pictures of themselves to each other. That didn't make me feel any better; because of the ages of the girls involved, just having these images on the computer was highly illegal.
There was not just one image, but a whole series of the girl trying out different sexy poses. She kept her panties on, but didn't seem too shy about exposing her breasts to the camera.
My fears were confirmed when it switched to a new set of photos, this time of Linda's friend Christine and her boyfriend Michael, both of whom I knew because they had visited Linda several times. They were completely naked, and sitting together on a bed.
There were only a few pictures in this set, nothing too graphic although the two teenagers did grope each other a little. What worried me wasn't that the photos were sexually explicit; more important was that there was a boy in them. If my daughters were part of a group that passed around naughty photos of themselves, then it stood to reason that at least one teenage boy had seen pictures of my daughters naked.
There were several other sets of pictures in that folder, and I counted at least ten different people in them, including my daughters. There was even one picture where both my daughters, along with five of their girlfriends, all posed together in the same shot. All were topless, with their arms around each other's shoulders. If they had been wearing more clothes, it would have been an innocent picture of a bunch of teenage girls having fun, but this was anything but innocent. In particular, I noticed that the pose put all their breasts in close proximity, and in the cases of some of the bustier girls, sometimes even touching. Amber was one of these; in the photo she didn't seem the least bit concerned that one of her breasts was pressed against that of the girl next to her. I shuddered at the sight of the contact; it was an example of what I had named in my stories "ambiguous lesbian flirting." Possibly but not necessarily sexual contact between two women.
As I skimmed through the rest of the photos, I had to admit being tempted on several occasions to copy some of them to my own computer. I knew enough about encryption to be able to hide the pictures where no one would find them. And some of my daughters' friends were downright sexy, considering their age. But I had always claimed that despite my fantasies, I would never do anything for real with a girl that age, and if I collected these images for my own enjoyment, I felt that in at least a small way, I would be breaking that promise. Still, I would never be able to look at these girls the same way again.
I almost dreaded what I might find in the other folder, the one labeled "V". I considered not opening it; I already had all the evidence I needed to give my daughters a stern talking-to. In fact, the only reason I continued was out of curiosity.
The pictures had been bad enough, but in this new folder I found videos. Full motion videos of underage girls and boys engaging in less-than-wholesome activities. The first was of one of Linda's friends putting on a strip show so explicit that I wondered just where a fourteen-year-old girl could have possibly learned how to move like that. She started fully dressed, but that didn't last long. I stared in shock and admittedly quite a bit of lust as she writhed to the latest pop music playing in the background, at first offering only tantalizing glimpses of her half-concealed assets, then slowly and teasingly stripping out of her clothes until she danced there baring everything to the camera.
There were several more videos of that type involving a number of girls. My favorite (and I'm ashamed to admit that I had a favorite) involved two of Linda's friends dancing naked together. They mashed their nude bodies together, naked female flesh rubbing against naked female flesh, as they ran their hands all over each other and even locked their lips in a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. I couldn't believe the boldness of these girls, especially since I knew them. These underage sex vixens had been in my house on several occasions visiting Linda.
Some of the other videos were more explicit; mostly solo girls playing with themselves. One of Amber's friends was apparently a screamer; I had to turn down the volume as she brought herself to a climax on her bed.
Then came the movie of the teen couple I had seen in the pictures earlier. This time they weren't content to just fondle each other; they threw away all modesty and actually had sex with each other right in front of the camera. I couldn't really fault them for getting intimate with each other; when I was their age all I could think about was sex. But to film it and spread it around to their friends turned that beautiful act into something dirty and forbidden.
If I thought that was wrong, it was nothing compared to the next video. It started innocently enough; it was just a boy and a girl sitting on a bed. From the shakiness of the video though, I could tell someone was holding the camera.
Then I froze in shock as a realization hit me. As with the others, these two were familiar to me. The girl was Linda's friend Julie, and the boy was her older brother Mark.
They wouldn't dare!
At first it took some prompting from the person holding the camera. A young female voice close to the mike gave them vague instructions like, "Go ahead!" and "Come on, guys!" The red-faced and grinning couple reacted with "Okay, fine," and "We will. Just give us a sec." The video cut off and restarted several times before finally Mark and Julie turned toward each other. As I watched in fascination, he leaned in and kissed her in a way that no boy should ever kiss his sister.
Then they started undressing each other. The voice of the girl in the background kept encouraging them and cheering them on. I wondered if they would stop before they got down to anything really naughty; maybe they would just strip down to their underwear and leave it at that. I could almost condone that much as just a couple of kids fooling around. A part of me hoped that that was the case, but then, there was that other part of me, that "Daddycums" part, that wouldn't have been satisfied with anything less than full frontal nudity and at least some sexual contact.
I almost turned off the video once Julie was down to her bra and panties and Mark had on only his briefs. I wasn't sure I could handle seeing anymore. But "Daddycums" won out, and I continued watching.
As Mark reached for his sister's bra strap, I realized they were really going to go through with it. He managed to undo the clasp, then pulled her bra away from her, exposing her chest to his eyes and the camera. Then he reached up and fondled her breasts, causing her to giggle as she glanced at whoever was filming them.
"You like your sister's boobs?" the mysterious photographer asked in a teasing voice.
like my sister's boobs!" he grinned. "Now I just wonder what Julie likes."
"You know what I like," she told him, then immediately dropped to her knees, facing him.
I had a good idea what was coming up. I had always had a fascination with oral sex, especially since my wife had never given me that pleasure. It was a result of her conservative upbringing; good girls just did not do that kind of thing. I didn't really mind, since Carrie was so good at giving me pleasure in other ways, but it did leave room for a lot of fantasies. Consequently, fellatio played a large role in many of my erotic stories, and was one of my favorite subjects when browsing for porn.
In a moment, my suspicions were confirmed when Julie reached up and peeled down her brother's underwear, exposing his cock. She took it in her hand, giggling as she glanced at the camera. Then she turned back to her brother, opened her mouth, and slipped it inside.
I watched in horny excitement as she bobbed her head forward and backward. The dimples in her cheeks gave evidence of the suction going on inside her mouth, and I shuddered as I wondered what it would feel like to have her do that to me. I hated myself for even thinking about a fourteen-year-old girl like that, but in my defense, I would dare any man to deny he would think the same thoughts if he saw that video.
The fun continued for several minutes until I could tell from the sounds coming from Mark's mouth that he was about to go off. Julie didn't stop, but kept right on sucking until her brother shook and grunted with his orgasm. Julie smiled and hummed as if she really enjoyed what she was doing. Then, once she had milked everything she could from Mark's cock, she pulled back. "Yummy!" she exclaimed as he sat down on the bed in exhaustion.
"God, you two!" the girl behind the camera exclaimed. "You make me so hot!"
"It's too bad you don't have a brother, Linda," said Julie.
My eyes opened wide in shock. Of course. I should have recognized the voice. My own daughter had been filming the scene!
"That's okay," she said. "I'm saving myself for someone special."
"Oh really?" asked Julie with a broad grin. "Who?"
"None of your business," Linda insisted.
"Come on, tell us," pleaded Mark.
"Fine, but I'm not going on the record with it."
Then the video ended, leaving me frustrated and a bit dumbfounded. My little girl Linda had filmed a brother and sister engaging in oral sex. She had actually been there, in the room, and had not only condoned their behavior, but encouraged it! And who was this mystery man that she was saving herself for? I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to think about it.
Then I realized something else. Linda was at Julie's house right now. They might even be making another video. Maybe this time, she would join in. I stood up as rage overcame me, prepared to rush out to the car and drive over there right now. But I had long since learned not to make hasty decisions like that, so I took several deep breaths as I counted to ten.
With my rational mind once more taking over, I decided not to do anything about it right now. I would wait until she came home. For one thing, I needed to have a discussion with both of my daughters together, so I didn't want to start early with Linda. For another, the fact that Julie had said she was saving herself for someone special meant that she probably wouldn't get any further involved with Julie and Mark than she already was. She was probably more or less safe at their house. Even if her "someone special" was a boy at school, it wasn't likely to be Mark, or she wouldn't have confessed it to them, even off camera.
There was one more video in the folder. Since I had come this far, I decided I might as well finish. So far I had found nothing to link my daughters to Iwuvmydaddy and Iwuvmydaddy2 except this evidence that they weren't exactly wholesome young ladies. Maybe this last movie would tell me something more.
As soon as it filled the screen, I groaned. This movie was of Amber and Linda in their own bedroom. It had obviously been filmed on the webcam on their computer, because the background was the room behind me. It was almost like looking into a mirror, except seeing my daughters' faces instead of my own.
After what I had seen, I figured almost nothing would shock me. I was pretty numb to disgust right now, but it still sent a tremor of excitement through me when the girls started to undress each other. They were not shy about touching as they removed each other's clothes; there was plenty of that ambiguous lesbian flirting that I enjoyed so much. At first it was just incidental contact, skin rubbing accidentally against skin. But they threw off their inhibitions with their clothes, and by the time they were down to their underwear they were practically giving each other erotic massages.
A couple of seconds later their bras came off, giving me a most delightful view of their gorgeous young breasts. I had seen the same thing in those pictures earlier, but their sensual motions added a whole new dimension to the sight.
When they leaned in, pressed their bodies together, and gave each other an open-mouthed kiss, I shuddered. What I felt then was akin to the first time I had discovered porn magazines in my early teens. The sight of my two daughters engaged in blatant incestuous lesbian contact was something I had never seen before, and the newness of it intensified the thrill.
They drew apart, but only so that they could reach out and fondle each other's breasts. They looked surprisingly comfortable as they groped each other; clearly this was not the first time they had done this. They seemed as comfortable with each other's bodies as their mother and me.
Linda bent down, and I gasped as she sucked Amber's nipple into her mouth. So this was it. No ambiguity here. My daughters had literally engaged in at least some lesbian activity with each other. I should have felt outraged, but I just couldn't manage to feel anything but lust. Perhaps until now I had never really fantasized about incest other than in the abstract, but right at that moment I stared at the screen with lecherous desire for my girls.
Then Amber drew away from her sister and lay down on the bed. Linda took it as a sign to reach over and pull off her sister's panties. Amber spread her knees, opening herself up to her little sister. Linda apparently knew just what to do. As I watched in horror and erotic fascination, she crawled onto the bed between Amber's legs, lowered her head, and licked Amber's eager pussy.
It was too much for me; I couldn't go on. I was on the verge of orgasm despite the fact that my cock was still tucked away safely in my pants. It was no wonder that my hand literally shook as I hurriedly shut down the computer to block that sight from my eyes. Did they have no shame? My girls, that I had always taught to be good, wholesome young ladies, were...
The thought was so horrifying I couldn't even put it into words. Yet at the same time, there was something strangely erotic about the whole thing. After all, I often fantasized about these actions, not with my daughters but with fictional characters. Having them suddenly projected onto someone I knew, someone so close to me, took those fantasies and multiplied the eroticism beyond belief. I literally fled from the room and those terrible images that had suddenly turned my world upside-down.