I waited until the next evening before I called Ate.
Two full days had passed since that night with my 19-year-old. Ate had been quiet the whole time. I knew she was stressed. Afraid the secret between us would finally come out.
I waited until my wife took the youngest out again. Then I locked myself in the study and dialed her number.
She answered on the second ring.
“Dad?”
Her voice was tight. Careful.
“It’s just me,” I said. “Wife and the youngest are out. We’re alone.”
Silence for a second. Then a soft, shaky breath.
“Okay.”
I told her everything.
How the 19-year-old confronted me the first night. The messages she sent. How I went to her room the next night. How I kissed her. How she asked me why I never did the same for her. How she pulled me in. How I took her for the first time—slow, careful, the same way I had guided Ate only last month. How she came while whispering she loved me. How I stayed inside her afterward and promised to teach her everything, gently, at her pace.
I didn’t leave anything out.
When I finished, the line was quiet for a long time. I could hear her breathing. Faster than before.
Then she let out a short, disbelieving laugh that sounded almost angry.
“Putangina, Dad…”
Her voice cracked.
“I’ve been losing my mind for two days. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her face. Imagining her telling Mom. Imagining everything falling apart. And you’re telling me… she didn’t just find out. She joined.”
I stayed silent and let her talk.
“I’m happy,” she admitted after another pause. The word sounded like it cost her. “I’m so fucking relieved she knows and she’s not running to Mom. But…”
Her voice dropped lower.
“I’m jealous too. Really jealous. You were supposed to be mine. Only mine. We only started last month and now she’s already getting the same things you give me. The same patience. The same slow hands. The same voice telling her she’s perfect while you’re inside her.”
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“And the worst part is… while you were describing it, I got wet. Listening to you talk about fucking my little sister made me wet. I hate that it did. But it did.”
I could picture her perfectly—sitting somewhere private, maybe in the bathroom of the house she shared with her husband, legs pressed together, phone pressed to her ear, cheeks flushed with the same mix of anger and heat I had seen on her face only weeks ago.
“She’s nineteen,” Ate continued, softer now. “I’m twenty-one and married. You guided her the exact same way you guided me last month. Slow. Careful. Making her look at you the whole time. Telling her to breathe. Holding her after. That’s… that’s what I still think about when I’m alone.”
Her breathing had gone uneven.
“I want to see it,” she said suddenly. The words came out rushed, almost guilty. “Not right now. But someday. I want to watch you take her the way you took me. Or… maybe both of us. At the same time. Is that fucked up?”
I closed my eyes and leaned back in the chair.
“It’s honest,” I answered.
She let out a shaky laugh that turned into something closer to a moan.
“I’m touching myself right now,” she confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “Listening to you tell me how you filled her. How tight she was. How she looked when you finally came inside her.”
I stayed quiet and listened to the soft, wet sounds on the other end of the line. The quiet gasps. The way her breath hitched when she got closer.
“Tell me again,” she begged. “Tell me how she felt. How she came on your cock while saying she loved you.”
I did.
I described every detail again—slower this time. The way my 19-year-old’s body shook. The soft, broken sounds she made. The way she held onto me after, still joined, asking if she did okay.
Ate came hard while I was still talking. A quiet, choked moan she tried to muffle. Then the soft, shaky breathing of someone who had just finished and was still riding the aftershocks.
For a long moment neither of us spoke.
Then her voice came back, softer, almost shy again.
“I still love you,” she whispered. “Even more now, maybe. But I’m jealous. And turned on. And scared. All at the same time.”
“I know,” I said.
“Will you still take care of me the same way?” she asked. “Even if you’re teaching her too?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Then… when can I see her? Properly. Not just as her Ate. As the other woman who already belongs to you.”
I looked at the closed study door. Outside, the house was still empty.
“Soon,” I told her. “When the time is right. When she’s ready. When you’re ready.”
She made a small sound of agreement.
“Okay. I’ll wait. Just… don’t leave me out of this, Dad. Please.”
“I won’t.”
We stayed on the line a little longer. Quiet. Breathing together. The same way we used to after those first nights last month.
When I finally hung up, the house was still silent.
But the secret had grown again.
Now there were three of us carrying it.

(42M) was watching a Korean drama last night with my wife and our two kids. Wife was at the end of the sofa, our youngest (18F) next to her, and my second child (19F) next to me. Everything felt normal.

After the episode, my wife and the youngest went upstairs to get ready for bed. My 19-year-old stayed. When the house got quiet, she looked at me seriously.

I already knew what she was going to say because she had messaged me earlier. Still, I followed her to the guest room. She locked the door and went straight to it. She knew about me and her aunt, who we call Ate (Ate means elder sister in Filipino). She’d noticed I was always at Ate’s house. Last week she even saw us coming out of a hotel together. And Ate had already confessed to her.

It still hit me hard. Her eyes were angry but there was pain there too. She said Ate already has a family, she’s married. How could I do that to her and to us?

I told her the first time wasn’t intentional. But the ones after that, I did on purpose for Ate. Her husband wasn’t giving her what she needed. He was always tired, no energy, no interest. I didn’t want Ate looking for some other guy. With me, she was safe.

She stared at me for a while. Then she said she was still mad at Ate. It hurt. But she’d just been noticing the way Ate looked at me and the days I wasn’t home. There was something about it she couldn’t really explain.

While she was saying that, I felt something strange. I can’t explain it. Something in her words just hit me differently.

Then she left and went to her room.

Three hours later, she messaged me:

“I love you dad.”

“You know what I mean. That’s why it really hurt when I found out.”

“Would you do the same thing to me that you did to Ate if I was in her situation, or no matter what situation I’m in?”

After reading that, I just sat there staring at my phone. My chest felt heavy. I didn’t know what she really meant. Was it a dig? Was she condemning me? Or was there something else behind it? I wanted to reply but I didn’t know what to say. The questions stayed in my head. That strange feeling from earlier came back stronger. I couldn’t sleep for a while.

I’m still not sure how to respond.

(42M) was watching a Korean drama last night with my wife and our two kids. Wife was at the end of the sofa, our youngest (18F) next to her, and my second child (19F) next to me. Everything felt normal.

After the episode, my wife and the youngest went upstairs to get ready for bed. My 19-year-old stayed. When the house got quiet, she looked at me seriously.

I already knew what she was going to say because she had messaged me earlier. Still, I followed her to the guest room. She locked the door and went straight to it. She knew about me and her aunt, who we call Ate (Ate means elder sister in Filipino). She’d noticed I was always at Ate’s house. Last week she even saw us coming out of a hotel together. And Ate had already confessed to her.

It still hit me hard. Her eyes were angry but there was pain there too. She said Ate already has a family, she’s married. How could I do that to her and to us?

I told her the first time wasn’t intentional. But the ones after that, I did on purpose for Ate. Her husband wasn’t giving her what she needed. He was always tired, no energy, no interest. I didn’t want Ate looking for some other guy. With me, she was safe.

She stared at me for a while. Then she said she was still mad at Ate. It hurt. But she’d just been noticing the way Ate looked at me and the days I wasn’t home. There was something about it she couldn’t really explain.

While she was saying that, I felt something strange. I can’t explain it. Something in her words just hit me differently.

Then she left and went to her room.

Three hours later, she messaged me:

“I love you dad.”

“You know what I mean. That’s why it really hurt when I found out.”

“Would you do the same thing to me that you did to Ate if I was in her situation, or no matter what situation I’m in?”

After reading that, I just sat there staring at my phone. My chest felt heavy. I didn’t know what she really meant. Was it a dig? Was she condemning me? Or was there something else behind it? I wanted to reply but I didn’t know what to say. The questions stayed in my head. That strange feeling from earlier came back stronger. I couldn’t sleep for a while.

I’m still not sure how to respond.

My wife and I have had plenty of experience with penetration, and I already enjoy giving her oral attention quite often. Lately, though, I’ve noticed that I’m especially turned on by the idea of exploring her other area through oral intimacy.

My wife is very clean and takes good care of her hygiene, so that’s not an issue at all. The only thing is that she’s very sensitive and gets really ticklish there, so she usually stops me when I try.

What’s funny is that even just talking about the idea with her can already turn me on.

Do other couples have a specific fantasy or preference that gets them excited just by talking about it? I’m curious if this is more common than I think.