Fucking Our Daughters While They Sleep Squirting Challenge

T. A. BEAU

Dads/Daughters Somnophilia Novella with breeding, drugged (given and taken), double penetration (anal fisting).

 

Copyright © 2024 T. A. BEAU

All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.

 

 

WORD COUNT: 14,200 words

 

 

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1 3

Chapter 2 – Kyle 11

Chapter 3 – Harry 24

Chapter 4 – Joe 37

Chapter 5 48

Chapter 1

The room is hazy with smoke, and the smell of cheap whiskey hangs in the air. The low hum of a late-night playlist drifts from the speakers in the corner, but it’s mostly drowned out by the clinking of glass, people talking and laughing, and the sound of cards being shuffled. The guys have been playing poker for hours now, almost nearing midnight, but no one really cares about the time. They’re too consumed in the game that they’re playing.

Kyle, Harry, and Joe are sprawled around a beat-up card table in the resident bar they frequent, the table covered in empty beer bottles and greasy pizza boxes. The tension in the air is palpable, especially for Kyle and Harry. On the other hand, Joe is having the time of his life. He’s leaning back in his chair, a smug grin spreading across his face as he casually arranges his winning hand. Again.

“Straight flush, boys,” Joe announces with a bold chuckle, dropping his cards face-up on the table. He leans back, folding his arms across his chest. “Better luck next time, huh?”

Kyle groans and slouches in his seat, staring at his pitiful hand of cards. It’s a 5-7 of hearts, and he knows there’s no saving it. He’s had nothing but garbage all night, and now Joe’s about to rake in yet another pile of chips, so he just wants to get it over with.

On the other hand, Harry isn’t so quick to let it go. His strong jawline is set in a hard line, and his deep-set eyes narrow in Joe’s direction. He doesn’t even bother to hide his disdain.

“Man, are you fucking kidding me? Again?” Harry’s voice has a bite to it, an edge that makes him sound confident, cocky, and condescending. He leans forward, fists resting on the table as he glares at Joe.

Joe raises an eyebrow, still grinning, unfazed by Harry’s tone. After several years of hanging out with Harry, Joe’s immune to his tantrums.

“What, you don’t like losing, bro?”

Kyle mumbles under his breath, his eyes still on his losing hand. “Yeah, it’s getting old, man.”

“Shut up, Kyle,” Harry shoots back without even looking at him. He’s focused on Joe now, his frustration boiling over. He’s never the one to lose so easily or stay down in general.

“What I’m saying is… every time we play, you walk away with all the chips, and it’s fucking irritating.”

Joe chuckles, throwing his cards into the center of the table as if flaunting the proof of his win. “Maybe I’m just that good, Harry. Ever think of that?”

Harry shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. His tone drops as he narrows his eyes. “You’re not that good, man. You’re cheating. You’ve gotta be.”

Joe looks at Harry, his grin widening. He knows just how to push Harry’s buttons, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“Cheating?” Joe says slowly, testing the word on his tongue. “Is that what you think? You think I’m cheating, Harry?” His tone is patronizing as if he is talking to a child, and it pisses Harry off so much.

“I don’t think it. I know it,” Harry snaps, his voice rising. He slaps the table hard enough that the chips rattle. “I’ve seen the way you handle your cards. The way you look at the deck. It’s not just luck, man. You’re hiding something.”

Joe bursts out laughing. This is just too good. And he knows that his laughter is affecting Harry too, which makes it all the more funnier. They have been playing poker and other types of games since they were horny frat bros in college, so it still is amusing that the man is so sour to this day.

Kyle rolls his eyes at the bickering men. He knows Joe’s good at poker, and he knows Harry is a sore loser. Still, there’s something about how Joe has been winning, raking in the cash, that ignites a type of annoyance in Kyle. It isn’t fair that he gets all the money, and it makes Kyle feel dumb for playing in the first place since there’s little chance of winning. Although, since he isn’t the only loser, he feels better about it.

“Alright, kids. Settle down,” Kyle begins, trying to mediate, but Joe stops him, holding a hand out to silence him.

Joe’s eyebrows raise, clearly amused. “No, Kyle, I want to see how serious this man is being. So you think I’m cheating, huh? How many times have you accused me of this? And how many times have I beaten you?”

“Stop it,” Harry growls, not backing down. “Let’s settle this once and for all. You think you’re better than us? Fine. Let’s play another game. One that I’m sure you can never cheat in.”

Joe leans forward, placing his head on his hand, intrigued by Harry’s challenge. “Yeah? And what game is that?”

Harry grins, the kind of grin that makes Kyle feel uneasy. He knows that look. It’s the look of a guy who has something planned, and knowing Harry, he’s going to suggest something stupid or dangerous, and Kyle will be dragged into it regardless.

“Whoever can get their daughters to squirt the most,” Harry declares, his voice full of confidence. “Let’s see if you’ll talk a big game after that.”

Kyle’s jaw drops in disbelief, and Joe’s smirk falters for a moment, but only for a moment. “Wait, are you serious?”

Harry leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What, you scared? You pussy?”

There’s a challenge in Harry’s voice, and it’s one that Joe can’t resist. The room grows quieter as Kyle takes a long swig from his beer, his gaze flicking between Harry and Joe, trying to figure out if this is just a joke or if it’s real.

All of a sudden, Joe begins to laugh, a loud and hearty one, his shoulders quivering from the sheer force of it. Harry looks at him, annoyed, wondering what’s so funny. When he stops laughing, Joe looks up at him, wiping a tear from his eyes.

“Alright, asshole,” Joe says, tossing his cards aside. “Let’s do it. But I’m warning you, Harry—no one beats me at this either.”

“Wait, what? Are you fucking kidding me?” Kyle exclaims, looking back and forth at his two best friends and wondering if they have gone crazy. What kind of game is this? “I thought you were going to talk sense into him or say it’s a joke!” He has never heard Harry suggest something as outrageous as this. Dangerous? Yes. Borderline idiotic? Yes. But something like this?

Harry shoots him a blank look. “You pussying out?” he asks drily, taking a quick jab at Kyle’s ego.

“No, but—”

“Then stop saying stupid shit. It’s just a one-time thing anyway, something to get over it,” he says, and Kyle bites his lip, feeling conflicted. The way he says it, it’s as if Kyle is being the most unreasonable one here.

“Well, what are the rules, then?” Joe asks, leaning in as if they were discussing a conspiracy. There’s this confident glint in his eyes that Kyle doesn’t miss.

Harry smirks once more, leaning forward as well. “No use of toys or enhancements. Only use your tongue, hands, or cock if you have to. And you must film everything. You can’t lie your way out of it, dumbasses.”

Joe hums, scratching his stubbly jaw in thought. “Fair enough, but what’s in it for us? What will the winner get?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Some fucking cunt; I know you two don’t get any,” Harry barks out a laugh, teasing the two. He knows very well that it isn’t so for Joe, as the man always brags about his sexcapades with his wife and other girls, but Kyle isn’t so lucky since his wife is so busy with work.

Joe laughs and balances his head on his hand, brimming with pure, unbridled enjoyment. “You worried about my sex life, bro?”

Harry just rolls his eyes at him, not ready to go into banter with this smirking son of a bitch. “Shut the hell up. Anyway, the winner will get all the winnings of tonight and bragging rights for a month.”

“What? You’re not going to give me my money? I earned that shit fair and square, dude!” Joe moans in frustration.

Harry just grins. “Well, if you’re so confident you’re gonna win, it’s not a problem, right?” Joe shrugs, flexing his arms in the process. “I’m fine with it. How about you, Kyle? You in?”

Kyle is startled by the sudden attention on him. He’s still baffled by Harry’s suggestion, still unable to wrap his head around it. It sounds so dirty and it’s taboo, but seeing how unfazed they both are makes it seem like he’s overthinking it.

I mean, I just have to do it once, right? And that’s it, right? he thinks.

Everything is resting on him now, and he doesn’t want to be seen as a wimp, so he finishes his beer and forces a grin, allowing the alcohol to run through his body.

“Fuck it, I’m in.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” Harry claps his back, laughing. “Let’s do it turn by turn, yeah? Since you lost the game first, you’ll go first, and I’ll go next, then Joe will go last.”

Kyle’s grin falters, but he catches himself midway. “Sure. I’ll even do it tonight.”

“Now you’re speaking my language,” Harry says again, rapping him on his shoulders. Joe could only smirk behind his glass as he drank, staying silent.

“Alright, before I beat Harry in his own game, how about another poker game? Something I still beat Harry in,” Joe begins, dropping his glass with a taunting smile.

“You’re on. Let me use this opportunity to raise my winnings higher,” the hotheaded man says, spurred on by the whisky and beer swirling through his system.

“Enough, you’re too easy to bait,” Kyle tries to stop him, but Harry is already too far gone to heed the advice.

The men continue the rest of their time like that, drinking and playing games until it is well past midnight, and they have to go back home.

“Fuck me, my head is ringing,” Harry groans, blinking. He had a drink too many after the competitive part of him was questioned, thanks to you-know-who.

Joe, the ever-composed one, is also affected. His face is flushed and sweaty, but he still manages to keep himself afloat.

Kyle is also a bit buzzed, but he shakes his head to reduce the vertigo he’s feeling. “Fuck,” he draws out. “I shouldn’t have stayed with you, shitheads. I’m gonna head home now, guys.”

Harry regards him briefly before grabbing his keys and downing the rest of his beer. “Nobody forced you to drink, asshole, but yeah, me, too. I’ve got a score to settle with someone, so don’t waste any more time, Kyle,” he says, standing up while shooting a pointed glare in Joe’s direction, making the man laugh.

“I don’t know about you, but dick is pointing me to victory,” Joe boasts, and Harry scowls, lip curling up in distaste.

They exchange friendly taunts and middle fingers before leaving the bar and walking to their respective vehicles. Kyle watches them go, sits in his car, and sobers up a bit. Then, he begins to drive home, his thoughts racing.

What the hell am I doing? he mutters, gripping the steering wheel. He has no clue what to do. And he was so confident earlier, saying he would go ahead tonight. He throws his head back with a groan, turning his attention back to the road. He decides to just go home first, and then he’ll figure out the rest.

Chapter 2 – Kyle

I get home, fully sober now. Driving my Chevrolet into the garage, I remain there for a while, enjoying the cool, silent night air. After a couple of minutes, I step out, locking the car behind me with a new sense of determination. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol in my system, but I’m more confident than I should be. I slide in my key between the front door lock, opening it with a groan as I step into my house, locking it behind me.

It’s quiet when I enter. And the lights are off, too. Nelly told me she was going to stay late for cheer practice. I hope she didn’t go to sleep over at one of her friend’s houses. I hope not because Harry won’t accept excuses, and I know he’s going to say that I’m pussying out.

With that in my heart, I quickly rush up the stairs to confirm. I slowly open her door with a slight creak, sighing in relief when I see her sprawled in her bed, completely knocked out.

She’s on her back, wearing a small white pajama shirt and baby pink pants, snoring silently. Her dark hair is scattered haphazardly and chaotic, in contrast to her peaceful, sleeping form.

I tiptoe into her room, and I can see the bottle of sleeping pills at her bedside, slightly opened, telling me that she will be out for the night.

Well, that’s good. At least I won’t have to worry about what to do, I think to myself, feeling terrible immediately after.

I walk out slowly, still leaving the door ajar, not to wake her up. I step down the hall to gather my thoughts once more.

My wife isn’t at home; she’s on a business trip, far, far away from this town. My daughter is in her room, knocked the fuck out. This is the perfect opportunity to do what I need to do without either of them knowing, so why am I still hesitant?

My phone rings in my pocket, startling me out of my thoughts as I jump in surprise, hurriedly reaching for the device so that I won’t wake Nelly up. When I look at the caller ID, I see that Harry and Joe are FaceTiming me. It’s like they just knew that I was hesitant about this. Well, they know me so well that it won’t surprise me if they’re calling about that.

“Have you done it yet?” Harry asks as soon as I pick up, his reddened face coming into view.

“Damn, you’re not even going to ask if the fucker even made it home?” Joe asks, laughing as usual.

I roll my eyes, rubbing one hand down my face. “No, I haven’t yet. I just got home. But she’s sleeping, and Millie is not at home—”

“Then what are you fucking waiting for?” Harry asks with an annoyed frown. “Everything is literally prepared for you! Fuck, if I had known you’d be such a fucking pansy, I would have suggested I go first.”