My Japanese Mom, My Boyfriend's BWC Pt. 06

Sudden nausea washed over me as I knocked lightly on the door of the hotel room.

After waiting for a few moments, I reached for the phone in my handbag, beginning to wonder if I had the right room number. As my fingers closed around it, I heard movement from the other side.

Oh shit.

I watched the door handle turn with a sense of absolute dread.

My father stood there, his eyes red and rheumy.

He had obviously been crying. His shirt looked creased and a stain was visible on the collar. For once his glasses were nowhere to be seen. I noticed with some shock how old he appeared, fifty years of life etched in the lines on his face.

I thought of the sacrifices he had made for me… and my mother. Moving to a new country, learning a new language, studying at night while he worked menial jobs during the day. Beginning a new career at 30 as a financial analyst. Late nights in the office. Regular business trips, sometimes only celebrating his birthday over a phone call home. Connecting flights. Delays. Lost luggage. Jet lag.

Tedium that would make most people go crazy.

Countless hugs, kisses, talks. Words of consolation and wisdom…

The love of a good father.

Tainted. By me. By my actions… more than anyone’s. He had all but lost his marriage because of me.

Because of my slutty nature.

My need to go too far.

I couldn’t begin to imagine how betrayed he must have felt. Maybe there was no word strong enough for what he was feeling.

In his pathetic state, I saw him for the first time as a solitary man, not just my father. His world was upended, simply by his returning home unexpectedly one day. His future, any hopes or dreams, crushed on his daughter’s bed.

His gaze avoided mine.

At that moment, I felt a kind of shame that most people couldn’t even imagine.

“Hi, Dad. Can I… come in?” I asked nervously.

Sighing deeply, he turned to walk back into the room, leaving the door open. I followed him, closing the door softly behind me.

He sat heavily on the bed, almost collapsing onto it, his head hanging in his hands. I sat beside him tentatively, unsure as to what he must have thought of me. Did he hate me? I certainly wouldn’t blame him.

He attempted to talk but the words got stuck. I felt how raw his emotion was. Tears welled in his eyes.

I wanted to hug him, to hold him close to me.

Instead, I placed my hand on his shoulder, a small gesture of my love and the immense guilt I felt for hurting him so.

And that was it. That did it.

He began to sob, his body heaving almost violently with the emotional outpouring. He struggled to take deep enough breaths, his body betraying him. I wrapped my arms around my poor father’s neck and wept with him.

Unmanned, he gave in to his broken heart, allowing some of his pain to escape with each tear. Over and over, I whispered, “I’m so sorry Dad…”

———————————–

After a little time had passed, we regained ourselves somewhat.

Not knowing what to do we just held each other in silence.

Without a trace of anger in his voice, he asked simply, “How long?”

I didn’t know if I should tell him. I didn’t want to hurt him any more than he had been already… but… I also never wanted to lie to my father again.

I owed the man at least that.

“A month or so,” I responded quietly, my voice suddenly that of a child.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging even more.

He turned to look at me, and for once I could not read his eyes. “How did it happen?”

I had decided I never wanted to be dishonest with my Dad again… so I closed my eyes and the words simply seemed to tumble from my mouth.

I told him everything… and every detail he wanted to know. I told him how it had begun. A missed alarm clock. My state of arousal. A text to Dan. My Mom answering the door unexpectedly. Her inviting Dan in. Their flirtation. My shock. The pool. My further arousal. And my manipulation of the encounter. How she had ogled Dan’s bulging cock in our backyard. How I had set my own mother up, inviting her to watch Dan swim. How I had told my boyfriend to fuck her.

And how I had eventually joined them.

He recoiled from me in revulsion as I described that first incestuous fuck… undoubtedly shocked by my depravity… but I didn’t stop. I told him how my mother and I had even begun to fuck without Dan. Sometimes while my father was asleep. How both of us had found sexual depths and appetites we had never known before. Silent tears ran down his face, spilling to the floor. I told him about my plan to seduce Bella. How it had happened.

Finally, I told him what had gone on that day, before he came home early. Before he walked in on an orgy involving his wife and daughter.

If he was going to hate me, better to hate me for the truth.

He didn’t speak for a long time. He looked exhausted. At least ten minutes of silence passed. I waited, my eyes cast down to the floor in abject shame.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said, finally.

“I know, Dad… Me either.” I reached out and held his hand. He didn’t pull away, for which I was grateful. “I never wanted to hurt anyone, Dad. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… or Mom.” I admitted… as much to myself as to him.

He let out a wry chuckle. “Your mother was always… hard to please. I had thought… maybe hoped… her appetite had diminished since coming to the US. Maybe she just hid it better. It’s… not the first time I caught her with someone else.” he said bitterly.

I was shocked. I had no idea, she hadn’t mentioned that at all.

Maybe she didn’t want to humiliate my father further.

“I didn’t know that,” I said softly.

He sighed deeply and shook his head slightly.

“It doesn’t matter now. I don’t blame you for being like your mother, Yumi. What the two of you did… broke my heart… but for different reasons. But you’re still my daughter. And I’ll always love you.” He squeezed my hand. “I can’t really help that.”

He looked at me then and for some reason I was reminded of how he played with me as a little girl, throwing me on his back and running around our garden.

I embraced him again and felt his lungs fill up when he breathed deeply.

“Thank you, Dad,” I whispered. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I’m not more like you.” I kissed him softly on one cheek before kissing the other. We gazed at each other with tenderness, our roles seemingly reversed, at least for a little while. I stroked his face with my palm and he closed his eyes.

His expression gradually softened. After a while, he almost looked peaceful.

I kissed his forehead one last time and rose to leave. There was nothing left to say.

“I love you, Dad… If you’re around tomorrow, I’d love to meet for coffee.”

He forced a smile, and I saw traces of the handsome young man in my parents’ wedding photos. “Maybe. I was planning on wallowing for a couple of days.”

I laughed and so did he. I turned to leave, opening the door. My hand faltered on the handle.

“Dad… I know I’ve hurt you… but I do want you in my life if that’s ok. I don’t want you to be unhappy either. I want you to find someone who loves you and takes care of you, and… doesn’t need anyone else.”

Again he smiled at me, but pain was visible behind his eyes.

“Your mother was the only woman I’ve ever been with… and I don’t know if I was EVER enough for her… I don’t know if I can even make a woman happy…” he said, and I felt a deep pity for him. “I might go home to Japan for a few weeks… or months. I need some time away.”

I nodded slowly.

“Dad… I know at times it must have been very tough for you, and maybe Mom didn’t say it often enough… but you’re a wonderful man. You’re a great provider, a patient, and dependable partner, and a loving father… If you don’t know how to… please a woman… then that’s the ONLY thing you need to improve. And I know you will because…” my voice began to break with raw emotion, “… you’re the one who taught me never to quit.”

I stepped out into the hallway and closed the heavy door with a click. As I walked down the corridor, I wiped burning tears away with my jacket sleeve.

———————————–

Over the next few days, I wrestled with the guilt I bore, sometimes waking up from bad dreams and struggling to go back to sleep…

… though admittedly it didn’t stop me from needing to be fucked daily by Dan and my Mom. It certainly didn’t stop my Mom and me from blowing Dan in a half-full movie theater.

In fact, for some reason, I seemed to be hornier than ever.

After my Dad flew to Japan the following week, I felt immense relief knowing that he had some time to put himself back together… and, if I’m honest, that the three of us had no obstacle to fucking as often as we wanted.

My Mom and I agreed that we didn’t feel comfortable staying in the home my parents had built after what had happened. She too felt deeply guilty for her betrayal of my father, and for pushing Dan to continue fucking her the night we were caught. She wept as she told me about how the two of them had drifted over the years, her inability to climax with my Dad, and his subsequent sexual insecurities leading to a dead bedroom for more than a decade. Although she had always respected my father, she didn’t feel the burning love for him that she had for Dan.

Without judgment, I understood completely.

We both knew first-hand the power a mind-blowing fuck had on a woman.

My parents agreed they would sort out the separation once my Dad came back to the US. Regardless, Dan, my Mom, and I moved into a 3 bedroom house closer to our university. My Mom offered to cover the rent and bills until we had both finished our degrees. Dan took an evening job as a bartender to help as much as he could.

It was a peculiar feeling leaving my childhood home. As I packed cardboard boxes, I felt pangs of nostalgia as I sorted through my childhood belongings.

It was the end of an era… and the beginning of another.

Despite the circumstances, my Mom and I were thrilled to have our own place with Dan. I think we had both dreamt of the three of us living together but never really thought it would happen. We cooked and cleaned for him, regularly woke him up with his dick in one of our mouths, and fucked him whenever he wanted… basically making sure our man was always satisfied in every way we could imagine.