My Daughter's Gymnastics Coach (Ch 5)

Chapter Five

All Characters in this story are 18 years of age or older.

Roughly 9:30 that evening I was seated in my recliner in the family room watching TV but not really paying attention to it. My mind was spinning, and I was having difficulty braining-through what had just happened to me.

Except for the bluish light radiating from the TV, the room was completely dark.

Why the fuck did I allow him to do that? I had heard words like 'beta male' and 'cuckold' and stuff like that, but until this coach showed up I had never understood why anyone would do that. Now I understood completely. When the coach was fondling her, I had a huge erection, and it was a huge turn on.

But still; What the fuck? How could I let that happen? My own daughter?

My fucking dick and balls, the trouble they get me into. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been better off being castrated the day after I knocked up Karen with Reagan.

Luckily the coach had finished his 'inspection' and left soon afterwards. We never even talked about the blowjob. What a bizarre fucking experience.

Suddenly Reagan entered the family room. She was wearing what she always wore to bed; a long white T-shirt with nothing underneath but her panties. When she passed in front of the TV I could see through her transparent T-shirt, and for a full-second comprehended completely the absolute glory of her figure, her tiny waist, her jiggling tits, her perfect ass.

But then, like a heavenly vision, all of it vanished.

Her panties were different than the ones she had on earlier. This new pair were yellow. Glancing at her head, from the TV's glow I noticed her hair was slicked back and wet. She had obviously taken a shower.

Once passing the TV she continued moving towards my right. When she sat down, I knew, just by the way she planted herself into the couch, that we were about to embark on a serious discussion.

I loved her, and I wanted to raise her the right way. Her life was heading in the right direction; she was getting good grades, had lots of friends, and was happy most of the time. But this whole thing with 'the coach' would take some serious maneuvering to navigate through, and I knew the maneuvering was about to commence,

"Dad?"

"Yes, Sweetie."

"Can we talk?"

"Of course." I said. Then I raised the remote to turn off the TV.

When the TV went off it was almost pitch black in the room. I heard her climb from the couch and walk towards the light switch on the wall. Then the ceiling light came on.

Walking back to the couch, I saw that she wore a very serious face, probably the most serious I had ever seen on her.

"So why did you let him?" She asked flatly after she sat down.

Oh boy, it's on, and she is coming out swinging.

I was ready for it, I assumed that would be the first question out of her mouth.

"Well, Sweetie, I figure your body is your body and you get to do what you want with it. Do you want your father to interject whenever anything like that happens?"

She was not ready for it, and I scored some points with it. The words seemed to jab her in the face and she blinked at me. But I knew there was a lot more coming

"OK" She said dubiously. "But when he was fondling my breast, I looked at you, and you seemed to be in some kind of erotic trance, like you were enjoying it. Did that turn you on? Did that give you an... erection?"

She asked the question incredulously, and when she spoke the word 'erection' it was almost in a whisper, as if the very word disgusted her.

Dear God. She is so innocent, so naive. It will take another decade before she even learns what a cuckold is.

I mean, how do you answer a question like that? It would be like trying to explain trigonometry to a third-grader.

I answered the best I could, who knows what I said. But it was not good or truthful, and she knew it was not good or truthful.

The conversation went on for another few minutes. I bobbing and weaving and lying while she threw bomb after bomb. I bobbed and weaved the best I could, but the bombs kept coming.

She knew something had just happened. Something that turned both men on, and that she was the victim. But she was just too naive to put it all together.

She was pissed, and frustrated.

Finally, she sat up at the edge of the couch pointing her pussy right at me, and screamed,

"Damnit, dad, what just happened!?"

It was a subliminal act, but she was pointing her pussy at me like a fucking shotgun. I could see the crotch of her yellow panties.

Her subconscious knew what she was doing, that portion of brain that goes back to the Hunter-gatheter days, that portion of brain which still wants to dance around the fire engaging in fertility rites, it knew exactly what it was doing. The pussy is the most powerful organism in the universe, it is revered, offered sacrifice to, and worshipped. Even the Milky Way Galaxy looks like a fucking pussy. And Reagan was entering that age where women begin tapping into that power.

"Damnit, dad. What the fuck just happened!" She screamed.

When my answer didn't satisfy her, her attitude suddenly changed. Something was going on in her mind, something bad, something sinister and cunning, and it scared me.

Slowly she stood up, and after a moment asked,

"Would you like to see my boobs?"

Oh fuck

"Reagan I don't -"

"I could lift my shirt up right now." She interrupted. "I'm not wearing a bra. You could see the nipples and everything. My boobs are pretty big, I'm sure you've noticed."

I knew it was time for the heavy artillery. Sitting up in my chair, I spoke in a strong fatherly tone,

"Reagan, stop this shit right now. This conversation is over."

My words seemed to slow her down, but she kept walking towards me. She didn't know what had happened with the coach, but she knew she was in the right and I was in the wrong and that she had a right to do this.

But when she got closer, and I could really see her face, I realized the sincerity was missing. She didn't really want to flash her tits, she was testing me, she was saying, 'Dad, turn me down and we can go back to the way it was.'

Her tits did look magnificent, she was arching her shoulders and sticking them out as she stepped forward. The darker shade of nipple could be seen through the thin fabric.

Once she got to within three feet of me she just stood there. When she looked down at my crotch I knew she was checking to see if I was hard. I wasn't, I was too shocked to be aroused.

"Why don't you pull your dick out." she asked. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of, I've seen it before, I see it when you piss on the neighbors roses."

It was bone-chilling, fucking terrifying. It was not about me rejecting temptation, it was about me and my relationship with Reagan, the next words out of my mouth, the next action I performed, it would send our relationship in one direction or another, permanently.