A Lost Daughter

After the conversation with Amber, I had pumped the brakes on my design to get Kayla impregnated. She had raised some serious questions about how much I was really willing to take on in order to satisfy my fantasies which would have been foolish to disregard. I wasn't completely abandoning the idea, but I was resigned to exercising some patience and planning before pursuing it.

Kayla was predictably disappointed, but not totally surprised. She told me that it seemed too good to be true and figured Amber would talk some sense into me. Perhaps that was why she had been trying so hard to seduce me before I went and discussed it with my wife. Either way, it didn't seem to have any lasting impact on her happiness, or the health of our relationship and I was glad for it.

Following that, life mellowed out considerably. With Amber and Sienna abstaining from anything beyond cigarettes and Kayla going back to being a pothead for the time being, the relative normalcy of our day-to-day routines was shockingly mundane. Amber would still achieve a healthy buzz on the weekends, but she wasn't falling down drunk. Kayla was essentially blazed 24/7 but that described how she had been ever since I had known her. And Sienna, perhaps utilizing the incredible willpower and determination that had made her such a successful athlete and student, never wavered once in her sobriety.

Sienna paused her arrangement with Kevin indefinitely, unsure of when or if she would resume. He wasn't overly concerned about it, especially since we didn't need his product for the time being. I also suspected that he figured he'd see us again when the baby was born, which was my suspicion as well. Regardless, there seemed to be an 'open door' waiting for Sienna if she needed to go back to selling her body to pay for drugs.

Amber had gone back to work, thankfully, as our savings would need to recover in preparation for a new baby. She knew this too and accepted as many shifts and on-call opportunities as she could to recoup what we had lost in the previous months. The perpetually understaffed nursing department of her hospital accommodated her readily and within a week of her returning Amber was working nearly 60hrs a week. It only took a month and a half to even out our savings and begin to build it up beyond what it had been.

It would be well into Sienna's second trimester nearly six months later before anything came along that interrupted what had settled into a predictable and comfortable routine. Sienna was at the very end of being able to wear her old clothes and every shirt, tank top, and blouse that she had strained around her belly at over 20 weeks. The yellow tank top she wore today rode up and revealed half of her belly button, the round curve of her bump becoming visible from the waistline of her tight black yoga pants.

Beyond her baby bump, she had lost little of her toned athleticism. Her hips remained fairly petite, and her ass still bubbled out from her backside in youthful defiance of her ongoing gestation. Perhaps most noticeable beyond her belly, were her tits. Sienna had never had a large chest, as she just simply did not have very much body fat. But starting a few months in they had begun to balloon and had now expanded to a little more than a handful each. Even more wondrous was the fact that she given up trying to wear a bra as she grew out of them almost immediately.

Because they seemed to be growing at such an alarming rate, buying a new bra every few weeks seemed silly, and she had decided to just let them be free. This meant that I was constantly being treated to a visual feast, her thickening nipples pressing scrumptiously against the fabric of her tops. She had been a walking hardon generator for the last month as the changes to her body really started becoming noticeable. I was needing to bend her over and fuck the shit out of her nearly anytime that I spent time in the same room with her. Seeing her with a growing belly, engorged tits, and a cigarette smoldering between her yellowed fingers was driving me insane.

Sienna, for her part, seemed to be absolutely overjoyed. I knew that most women worried to some extent that while pregnant they would be less desirable to their partners, and a lot of women experienced an increased sex drive while they were with child. I wasn't sure if I was an anomaly or what, but I was struggling to find a time where I was more turned by my beautiful daughter than while she carried my baby. It was so severe that I worried my other two angels were being neglected with how singularly Sienna's pussy received my seed.

As I sat on the couch and felt my cock begin to harden at the sight of Sienna chaining another cigarette, she flashed a side glance my way and smiled. Her nicotine habit had intensified to an obscene degree throughout her pregnancy thus far. Amber had always been a torrid smoker, getting through a pack a day easily for nearly 20 years now. Kayla was an addicted smoker as well, and her intake had increased since moving in to match Amber most of the time. But I would hesitate before ever recalling any time where any of them could be considered a 'chain-smoker.'

The term was thrown around loosely, and pejoratively, in most circles these days to indicate pretty much anyone who smoked more than half a pack per day. Usually anyone who averaged at least one cigarette per waking hour would be labeled a 'chain-smoker' by the leagues of disapproving non-smokers nowadays. But the real, true definition of non-stop, one after another chain-smoking every day, all day was an almost entirely unfamiliar concept in contemporary times. If anyone had any understanding of it at all it was a result of remembering a grandparent who was never without a lit cigarette burning between their fingers.

Even I, who had always encouraged Amber to smoke with reckless abandon and remarked how much I loved it when she did had never bore witness to the reality of a real, true to the definition chain-smoker. Well, those days were well and truly behind me. Sienna had slowly upped her consumption over the last four and a half months to reach the point at which she was quite literally, never without a lit cigarette between her fingers, lips, or smoldering in an ashtray next to her. I believed it was a combination of different things that had contributed to it. Firstly, was the stress and anxiety of being a new mother and quitting all her other bad habits virtually overnight.

Additional contributions were obviously my own appreciation and constant approval through words and physical affection. Lastly, it had probably been the idlest time she'd ever had in her young life and with an unlimited supply of cigarettes that I ensured she had access to at all times, there was zero reason to limit herself. She had no job that she had to work around, no environments that required her to go without, no financial concerns about buying more or even needing to go out to obtain them, and certainly no negative moral, ethical, or stigma attached to her smoking that provided a mental block.

Over the past half a year Sienna's environment had been constructed to become the most conducive one imaginable to facilitate a descent into exactly what she had become--the heaviest smoker I had ever known in my life. At this stage, she was smoking around four packs of Newport 100's per day. Something I would not have believed possible if I had not watched her do it right in front of me every single day for the last several months. Even with her sleeping somewhere around 10hrs a night, an increase since her pregnancy, she was going through 5-6 per hour.

Last weekend I was curious, so I cleaned out her ashtray, something that she carried around with her anywhere she went about an hour before she woke up. I didn't tell her what I was doing because I didn't want her to alter her intake to show off, and just let her go about her day. I made sure to notice that she didn't clean it out or dump it at any point during the day and then, when she went to bed around midnight, I dumped it out onto a couple paper towels and counted them one by one. 78. She had smoked 78 Newports in a single day from around a quarter to 10 in the morning to around a quarter to midnight.

I maintained this routine every day for the last week, dumping her ashtray out after I've counted it and then counting it again shortly after she'd gone to bed. It had been never dipped to lower than 75 and reached a high of 82. I'd needed to wake her up and fuck her like a rabid animal on several occasions after my strange obsession because of how turned on I would get. This had led to her going to bed nude, so I was more easily able to slip under the covers and ravage her with ease.

These lovemaking sessions had been some of the most vigorous of our entire relationship and she had told me several times that she went to bed every night hoping to be woken up by my cock being shoved into her cunt. I had yet to even explain why I had been getting so worked up at odd hours because I truly did not want her habit to superficially inflate on my account, which she would absolutely do if I were to tell her. She was almost too accommodating in that way. Part of what was turning me on so much about it was the fact that it was natural, organic, and completely of her own accord. If I knew she was just smoking her lungs out to turn me on, it wouldn't have been nearly as incredible.

Secretly, I had been rooting for her to break 100, but I wondered how much more feverishly she could even smoke at this point. It was probably only possible if she increased her speed or decreased the amount of sleep she was getting, and I didn't need her to mold her entire life around a silly milestone on my account. I would continue to monitor her cigarette intake inconspicuously and see if she were trending up and that should tell me if she'd topped out or had any room to grow. At this point she was grabbing 3 packs out of the carton every morning before heading to the couch, so she knew right as the day began what her baseline was at. If she ever grabbed 4 that would be the point that I knew it was possible.

To go along with the incredible sights, smells, and flavors of her torrid addiction were the physical effects. Still being a genetically gifted 18-year-old, not even a year removed from consistent athletic training, she remained at first glance as fresh-faced and unblemished as ever--even with a bun in the oven. But closer examination, which I thankfully had, revealed many little treasures for a dark side loving pervert such as myself.

It started with her hand, which had developed dark yellow stains on her middle and index fingers. Her middle finger had taken on a softer yellow around the skin above her nail, which had also yellowed considerably. Her index finger, however, was a majesty to behold. A dark yellowish-orange blotch had developed around one side of her finger near her fingernail which had been stained the same color. I had been watching it for months continue to darken and I honestly wondered if it was going to transition into a reddish orange at some stage.

I had asked Sienna about it out of the blue a couple of weeks ago and she just shrugged, asking if it bothered me. I told her that no, it not only did not bother me, but it also turned me on to no end. She responded by smiling and sinking my cock inside of her and I suspected she too was now tracking the progress of her yellowing skin and nails. Another incredible new development had been her teeth. Sienna had shown up on our doorstep with two shockingly bright rows of perfectly white teeth. It had been something that her adoptive parents had spent a lot of money on and took very seriously.

Her oral health had been maintained through regular check-ups, braces, cleanings, and brushing and flossing after every single meal. I wasn't totally clear on the origins, but Ben and Julia had been borderline militant about their children taking care of their teeth. I didn't begrudge them for it, it seemed like a very reasonable thing to care about, but it offered the perfect canvas for corruption. And if there was anything that had taken the brunt of her newfound addiction, it had been her teeth.

They remained perfectly straight and aligned, but the sparkling white had become a distant memory. On both her top and bottom rows, the four most central teeth were stained a varied level of yellow depending on how long it had been since she'd brushed her teeth. They started off the day as faintly yellow after she brushed her teeth in the morning and gradually darkened throughout the day until they took on an almost orange at the base of her lower incisors near the gums. Speaking of the gums, they had receded a bit on the bottom to reveal a bit more of her root and become mildly inflamed indicated by their dark reddish shade.

In their entirety Sienna's teeth were several shades less white and more yellow and even immediately after brushing and flossing it was clear that the stains weren't going anywhere without a dental hygienist. I was most concerned about Sienna's vanity flaring up and causing her to be self-conscious or needing to make a change, but she hadn't seemed to notice. I decided on a whim to bring it up, as I watched her yellowed fingers raise a cigarette to her lips.

"Would Ben and Julia be pissed off if they saw the cigarette stains on your teeth?" I asked.

Sienna waited to finish her drag, swallowing her giant mouthful of smoke with a hungry gulp before a smile crept across her face.

"They'd be scheduling a dentist appointment immediately," she answered, before pursing her lips and exhaling a thick stream.

"Does it bother you at all?" I asked.

She shook her head as she took another drag, waiting until popping another mouthful of smoke into her lungs to speak.

"Not enough to stop smoking, that's for sure," she answered.

I watched as she held her lungs full for several seconds before relenting to her body's need for oxygen and exhaling.

"I'm glad," I answered.

She laughed, a very slight roughness to it that hadn't been there months ago that I attributed to the healthy layer of tar coating her throat, lungs, and vocal cords along with the natural irritation that occurs each time smoke is inhaled. It sounded positively divine. It also provoked a clearing cough, something that I heard Sienna doing more and more often throughout the day. In fact, another one of my daily rituals had been trying to be awake and aware when she woke up to enjoy the budding smokers cough that she was developing.

She was far too young, and her smoking had started far too recent for it to have been a chest-based cough, but she was certainly beginning every day with a healthy throat cough to clear herself out from the previous day. It absolutely delighted me to hear her follow in the footsteps of her mother, who herself had been doing the same for over a decade. Amber's cough had long traveled into her lungs, however, and had a depth and resonance that sent shockwaves to my cock every time I heard it--which had been almost every single day for years. It had resulted in hundreds if not thousands of early morning quickies, if that was any indication of how healthy it had been for our sex life.

At her current pace, Sienna would replicate her mother in much less time, and I relished the thought of it. Sienna noticed how much my thoughts had excited me, as my pants had tented around the growing erection that pressed against the fabric. My reverie was shattered by the feeling of her massaging my cock through my slacks, and I leaned back in the cushion of the couch and enjoyed how amazing my life had become. I barely had to even think about sex for it to be immediately recognized and addressed by the woman nearest to me at the time. At the moment, I was glad that the star of my mental imagery was the one with her hand on my cock.

Before things had time to progress to their natural next steps, a series of knocks on the front door interrupted us. I looked at Sienna who looked back at me, both of us communicating to the other that we weren't expecting company with the expressions we wore. I stood up and pressed my erection down the leg of my pants, taking a deep breath and willing myself to redirect blood flow to the other areas of my body. It mostly worked, and I doubted anyone would notice my half-mast unless they were staring intently at my crotch for some strange reason.

I was still dressed from work, as I hadn't even made it to the bedroom to change after seeing my lovely daughter sitting on the couch and enticing me to sit next to her. My crisp long-sleeve white button up was tucked neatly under the shiny black belt on my black slacks, and the belt matched the sheen of my black Oxford shoes. My fashionable 'flair' was relegated to the tie that I had chosen to wear that day, black with crisscrossing blood red accents. I figured I was presentable enough to greet anyone and wondered if this would be the moment that Ben or Julia would finally feel that their 'tough love' experiment had gone far enough.

I momentarily considered asking Sienna to put out her cigarette in case I was correct, but one scan of the room rendered that option moot. A healthy haze of blue smoke hovered in the room, shifting in the scant sunlight that filtered through a crack in the drapery of the kitchen window above the sink. Aside from the cigarette burning between Sienna's fingers, her ashtray was overflowing with spent butts and ash littered the glass coffee table it rested on from corner to corner. Several other ashtrays populated the room on the dinner table and kitchen counter with varying degrees of volume ranging from overflowing to full.

The final and perhaps most damning evidence was the overpowering smell of ash and cigarette smoke that would take a full day or more of cleaning and airing out to diminish. There was simply no hiding the reality this time, and if Ben and Julia were standing on the opposite side of my front door, we would just have to fess up to it. Realistically there was little they could do, although an investigation by CPS could bring some serious challenges depending on what they were able to find out. Luckily for us all, Sienna would test negative for all substances regardless of the testing method, but I sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to that.

With everything that had flashed through my mind in several moments of panicked concern, I considered not opening the door at all. Maybe I should get a Ring camera or something so I could screen the visitors to my home? Another series of knocks brought me back to the present, but so too did a voice that called out from the other side.

"Sienna, it's Hannah, I'm alone," came a soft feminine voice through the door.

I looked to Sienna whose eyes brightened in surprise before she practically bounded off the couch. She quickly stubbed out her cigarette, spilling some of the other cigarettes out onto the coffee table before running her hands through her hair frantically. Her hair was sort of in a strange middle stage, her brown roots showing for several inches before blending into the black of her dye job half a year ago. The purple streaks had washed out months ago, and it was too long to style in the punkish way she'd been doing so it hung silkily around her face a couple of inches past her jaw.

She looked quite young with her shortish haircut and lack of makeup, although she was still an absolute knock-out.

"Coming!" she said before yanking the door open excitedly.

The two teens were hugging and crying before they'd even had a chance to say a word, and it was clear how much they had missed one another.

"I've missed you sis, you have no idea," Sienna said while embracing Hannah warmly.

"I missed you too, it's been so hard without you home," she sobbed.