Chapter 3
Lionel
I arrive at Sushi Komo, pulling the heavy wooden door open. A young woman in a heavy embroidered kimono bows slightly in greeting.
“Mr. Kenneally,” she murmurs in a demure voice. “Your party has already arrived. Please, follow me.”
I nod and proceed down a darkened hallway behind the hostess.
Her hair is lacquered black and styled in a square bun on the back of her head.
Her gait is stiff with tiny steps, and I wonder if something’s wrong.
But then I realize that this is likely part of the experience.
As a Michelin-starred restaurant, Sushi Komo prides itself on providing an authentic experience, and the young woman is likely styled as a traditional Japanese noblewoman.
No way a noblewoman would wear sneakers and bolt down a hallway like their hair’s on fire.
Instead, restraint and control guide her movements, and I appreciate the hostess’s attention to detail.
Then again, I always prefer my females to be feminine and elegant in manner.
My stepdaughter does the look well. Lily usually wears dresses or skirts, and her hair’s always glossy and curled.
Her make-up is tastefully applied, and even when she doesn’t wear make-up, she looks beautiful.
I suppose it has to do with the fact that the curvy girl’s eighteen.
The young woman has a glow about her that can’t be faked, and my stepdaughter is brimming with youth and beauty.
But that’s what I’m here to discuss. Or rather, I’m meeting some buddies to talk about what’s going to happen tomorrow night because it’s not every day that a young woman offers up her curves for the pleasure of three men.
Meanwhile, the hostess comes to a halt at a door at the back of the darkened hallway, and then turns the doorknob to reveal a private room.
The walls inside are matte black, with golden Japanese screens depicting cranes and waterfalls.
There’s a small sushi bar in the center of the room, complete with four seats in front of it.
A sushi chef stands behind the bar, his dress whites immaculate as he prepares ingredients.
“ Irasshaimase ,” he greets in welcome, looking up. I nod in return as my three friends call out from the stools.
“Yo,” Scott growls. “Nice place here.”
“I can’t wait for bowling tomorrow,” Barrett smirks, his handsome features like a movie star. “What time did you say it was again?”
“And what was the name of your stepdaughter?” Cross asks, blue eyes gleaming. “Sorry, I forgot.”
I wait until the hostess has departed before taking a seat at the bar with my three buddies.
We’re here for omakase , which is the latest dining trend.
Usually, we’re dudes who go out for hefty steak at a place like Gotham Bar and Grill, with its red leather booths, dim lighting, and extensive liquor selection.
We enjoy the clubby atmosphere while blowing a ton of cash on meat and expensive alcohol.
But times change, and the standard steak spot is becoming dated and tired.
Instead, my buddies and I have moved onto omakase , which is a Japanese dining experience that involves placing one's trust in the chef's culinary skills to create a personalized meal. The chef before us will craft various types of sushi by hand, before serving them to us in a series of exquisitely-presented courses. It’s another way of blowing a crazy amount of money on raw meat, and my buddies and I enjoy it.
I seat myself before nodding.
“So my daughter’s name is Lily,” I drawl. “She’s looking forward to meeting you.”
“You mean, your stepdaughter,” Cross corrects. “You’re not actually related.”
My black brows lift.
“Why, would it matter to you if she was my biological daughter?”
He shrugs his broad shoulders, his chiseled features neutral.
“Yeah, it would matter. I mean, what you’re doing is pretty fucked-up. You’re offering your daughter on a plate to be fucked within an inch of her life. Tell me that’s not fucked-up.”
I shoot a sharp look at the sushi chef, but the man’s features are expressionless as he massages a piece of sashimi. It’s like he hasn’t heard a word, which is exactly why we pay the big bucks to dine here. Discretion can be pricey, but it’s necessary when it comes to what we’re about to discuss.
“Lily’s a smart girl,” I say in a smooth tone. “She’s my late wife Roberta’s daughter, so no, we’re not biologically related, and yes, it’s absolutely fucked-up.”
Scott shoots me a calculating look.
“Will you be joining in?” he asks.
I nod.
“Yeah, probably. Lily and I have been intimate in the past,” I say. “In fact, we’re still intimate with one another. But you already knew that.”
The three men nod.
“Yeah, because you mentioned it over the phone,” Barrett growls as sake is poured into clear glasses. “But tell us how it began. I thought you shipped the lovely Lily off to boarding school after her mother passed. So how did this happen? You fucking her, I mean.”
His language is coarse, but it doesn’t bother me, and I nod.
“I did send her to boarding school, but it didn’t work out because she kept getting homesick,” I fib lightly.
“So Lily came home,” I say. “No harm, no foul. The house is big and she’s now a senior at St. George High.
It’s a good school, and she’s adapted well despite transferring in the middle of the year. ”
My three buddies nod.
“But how did your thing with her start?” Scott presses, his expression intense.
“I mean, fuck man. We don’t care about academics.
That stuff is bullshit. What we care about is a young woman living under your roof, whom you’re fucking on a nightly basis.
Tell me: how did it go from innocent daughter to sucking Daddy’s cock on the reg? Did you initiate? Or did she?”
I shrug my broad shoulders.
“It was a natural chain of events, actually. When Lily left for boarding school, she was scrawny and pubescent. When she came back, she’d changed.
She’s gorgeous now, as you saw from the photos I forwarded, with curves in all the right places.
Hell, she’s a fucking pin-up, and we were attracted to one another from the get-go.
Sure, the situation’s fucked up and we talked about the pros and cons about getting involved.
But we went for it, and fuck, she’s a goddess with those big tits and ripe ass. ”
Scott lets out a low wolf whistle.
“Yeah, she’s gorgeous,” he rasps. “I like that one where she’s bent over, pulling her cheeks apart.
Can’t wait to be in there, tasting those tight holes.
But fuck man. How’d it get to the current situation?
Did she ask you for the gang-bang? Or did you put her up to it?
And why does she want to be fucked by multiple men so bad? ”
I shrug, deciding to gloss over the hairier parts.
“Lily’s a young woman who’s in touch with her needs,” I say in a casual tone. “That’s something we can thank women’s lib for. These days, ladies aren’t afraid to articulate what they want in bed, and what Lily wants is to sample cock. A lot of it.”
Barrett squints piercing blue eyes at me.
“And you’re okay with that?”
I shrug.
“I mean, I’m not exactly an expert at raising kids, but I think it’s better if my stepdaughter sows her wild oats under my supervision.”
Cross snorts.
“Isn’t that an oxymoron?” he asks in a wry tone. “If you’re sowing wild oats, you’re doing it without adult supervision.”
I shrug.
“Maybe, but my stepdaughter and I are involved, both physically and mentally, and her happiness means a lot to me. So yeah, I think it’s best if Lily experiences group sex under my watchful gaze.
I mean, think about drinking: would you rather your kids get drunk for the first time with a bunch of inexperienced teenage alcoholics, or would you rather introduce your child to alcohol yourself, while warning them of the benefits and drawbacks of the stuff? ”
Barrett shrugs his broad shoulders.
“I don’t have daughters, but I know my sons were pounding beers with their friends by the time they were fourteen.”
I shake my head.
“Shit man. That’s real fucked up. Fourteen?”
Barrett nods, his chiseled jaw tight.
“Yeah, which is why I’m not in a position to judge.
None of us are,” he says with a meaningful gaze at Cross and Scott.
“Maybe we haven’t fucked our stepdaughters, but being a parent is never easy and I’ve raised two boys.
I guess Scott, Cross and I just want know the why of this encounter, and you’ve told us: it’s because Lily requested a gangbang. ”
“She absolutely requested it,” I growl in response, blue eyes flashing. “This was her idea, definitely. Why, do I give the impression that I’m forcing her?”
Cross shrugs, taking a sip of his sake before popping a rice ball into his mouth.
“I don’t know, my man. I mean, the whole situation is obviously a clusterfuck.
You’re what? Forty? Forty-five? And you’re sleeping with a woman two decades your junior, who also happens to be your dearly departed wife’s daughter.
Oh, and she’s financially dependent on you, so she’s vulnerable. Let’s not forget that.”
“She is financially dependent on me,” I affirm. “Lily has a trust, or rather she had a trust. She blew through it while in New York,” I grimace. “But I put a stop to the spending, and I’m adding to the trust once more, so she’ll get back on her legs again.”
“Yeah, but for now, she’s vulnerable, my man. Your stepdaughter gets everything from you, from a roof over her head to food on the table. Can you blame us for wanting to make sure she’s doing this of her own volition?”
“I appreciate the diligence, but I assure you, she wants the gang-bang,” I say in a smooth tone. “ She asked for it.”
“Okay,” Cross responds in a deep voice, his expression intent. “But one more thing: Lily’s legal, right? We don’t want to be caught with our dicks buried deep in an underage vixen.”
“Lily’s legal,” I immediately reply. “Turned eighteen last year. Soon to be nineteen, in fact. Does that take care of your questions?” I ask in a smooth tone. “Or are there more that I should address?”
“No, no more,” Scott growls. “We’ve dotted the I’s and crossed the T’s.
Thanks, my man. We didn’t mean to put you under the microscope but fuck, your daughter’s juicy and we just want to make sure everything’s kosher before shit goes down tomorrow.
Lily’s a ten,” he adds. “I don’t know how you got her to pose for the camera, but she’s ripe. And fertile.”
“She’s on birth control,” I interject immediately, suddenly feeling a rush of jealousy. “Don’t even think about getting her pregnant.”
“Possessive some?” Cross asks, lifting his sake glass to me. “Sounds like you’re the man who wants to give her babies.”
“In fact, I do,” I say, feeling the jealousy subside a little as I down my first piece of sushi.
It’s raw mackerel on special Japanese rice spiked with a bit of vinegar, and it goes down smooth.
This restaurant is definitely worth the four-figure price tag, even if I’m not a huge raw fish dude.
But there are more important issues at stake, and after swallowing, I turn to my buddies once more.
“Don’t even think about getting her pregnant,” I reiterate in a silky tone. “Because Lily’s mine. I’ll be the one putting babies in her belly when the time comes, but right now, she wants to explore and I’m a hundred percent behind it. Now, fuckers, let’s eat.”
With that, the conversation turns to other subjects as we consume thousands of dollars of sake and seafood.
But there’s still a hum of awareness in the air because tomorrow night, Scott, Cross and Barrett are coming over to sample my stepdaughter .
.. and after tasting Lily, I know they’ll never be the same.