“Dad? Would it bother you if I asked you about us?”“Never. Why?”“I’ve got questions. About what we’ve done. Sex and stuff.”“Have you...changed your mind?” I asked.“God, no. But, it’s sorta embarrassing for me to talk about it.”Setting the knife aside, I turned to face her. I admired how fresh and sweet she looked in jeans and her dark purple T-shirt, her thick hair pulled into a bushy ponytail. Her eyes were hesitant, searching mine.“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t be embarrassed to talk about anything. She covers her face with her hands and sobs. I let that go on for a few seconds and then ask "What's wrong baby?"Through wracking sobs she starts whining about vomiting on herself and how I'm an asshole and how this is disgusting and fucked up and she didn't think porn was going to be like this. While she sobs and goes into hysterics I start to fondle her puke covered tits and rub her pussy.I offer consoling words; and use my nice voice. It takes ten minutes but eventually she calms down. But. More

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