Time to go home

You walk a few more blocks over and hop onto the train, taking it to your exit and strolling through your neighborhood towards home. Despite it being late in the evening, traffic is as thick as ever. The city that never sleeps.

You arrive at your brownstone, sighing at the sight of the dilapidated brick and rusted gate in front of it, but head inside nonetheless.

"I'm home," you call out as you enter, not wanting to be shot by your wife, but you hear nothing in response. You toss your work bag onto a bench by the door and head down the hallway, passing the stairs leading upstairs on the left and your living room on the right, until you land in the kitchen. The light is already on, agitating you. Electricity is expensive, and you need every cent you can get. Your agitation grows confused though, when you see why the lights are on.

Your wife, Nadia, is bent over under the sink, scrounging around for something. She's wearing her same old nightgown, the same one she had worn for years, the tattered and worn cotton robe doing little to stir you. It doesn't need to, however, as your eyes are immediately drawn to what lies beneath.

Nadia was always a beautiful woman, ever since you met her so many years ago. In Russia, she had given up a model career to focus on art. Painting in particular. That joy of creation is gone now, like so many others, leaving only the beautiful frigid woman you share your bed with but cannot touch, a constant reminder of the love you lost.

Long, satin auburn hair falls around her shoulders, her skin still as smooth and taut as the first time you touched it in the coffee shop outside of her school, her waist thin, undisturbed by the birth of Karina. Her breasts are firm against her chest, in spite of the nursing of your child and the milk that had swelled within them. Her nipples, thick and supple, not that you ever get to taste them anymore. Nor her cunt, either, for that matter. It had been a few years since the last time you even saw it, which is why you are so infatuated by the sight before you.

Her tattered nightgown hem rose up just a little too high, revealing that beautiful pussy that you had once called home. Her thick, succulent clitoris bulged against her smooth labia like the most forbidden of snacks, as tight and inviting as the first night you had seen it, so many years ago. A deep hunger awakens in you, one that had been dormant but now lumbered forth. You approach her, stepping down to one knee as you bring your hands close to her ass. They reach out with a mind of their own, eager, hungry for what was before them. Satisfaction swims within you as your fingers land on her ass, caressing the supple flesh beneath, drawing an indention across her plump cheeks.

"Kakogo cherta!" she yells, launching a kick back with one of her feet and sinking it into your gut. She jerks herself from under the sink, her vein-adorned breasts spilling out of her gown and standing firm in the air, her thick nipples hard in the evening coolness, her body spinning around onto her feet and landing in a crouch.

"Lev, oh my goodness!" she says in her broken English, two decades in America still unable to remove her of her thick accent. "Are you alright?" she asks, but she makes no move to help you.

"I'm sorry dear," you answer. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just saw you bending over under the sink, and I couldn't resist."

She rolls her eyes and stands up, a bottle of cleaning solution in hand.

"I spilled something upstairs. I go clean now, and then sleep. Goodnight."

She disappears into the hallway, her footsteps receding as she heads upstairs until they disappear entirely. You still lay on the floor, a thin tear running down your cheek. You are used to it though and not at all surprised by her response, even though it was an accident. She doesn't want you to touch her, and you know it.

You push yourself off of the floor and quickly eat a snack from the refrigerator. As you sit at the table, you finally pull your phone out of your pocket and check the notifications from earlier.

Affection Multiplier App Achievement: Shush, Don't Tell the Police!

Affection Multiplier App: Relationships have been updated.

You click on the achievement first, opening a new window labeled "Achievements." Your first achievement is there, as well as this new one. You click on the first one, and a small popup appears explaining the achievement and your reward, as before. You click on the new one, and a similar popup opens.

Achievement: Shush, Don't Tell the Police! By committing a major illegal crime, you have unlocked this achievement. +10% monetary returns on illegal activities, where appropriate.

Wait. What.

Ten percent? Ivan had given you an extra hundred. It worked? The first thing you see this app do, and it makes the Russian mob give you extra money? A strange terror fills you. You don't want to cross the mob. Shit. Shit, shit. You need to give the money back to him before he finds out you're messing with him. Someone is fucking with you, and it needs to stop before it gets you killed.

"Hey Dad," a tired voice murmurs from the archway out of the kitchen. You look up from your phone to see your beautiful daughter, Karina, standing there, her long blonde hair tied back in a single braid and her normal makeup washed away for the evening, not that she looked any less gorgeous without it. She's wearing an old t-shirt and a pair of short, cotton shorts, neither of which do much to accentuate her teenage breasts or her lithe, voluptuous hips as she leans against the archway - not that you notice or care about those things, anyway.

"Hey Karina, I was just coming to see you. How was your day, dear?"

"Oh, the usual. I studied most of the afternoon. We are getting ready for exams in three weeks."

"Have you heard back from any colleges yet?"

"No, not yet. Hopefully, I will soon, though."

She walks into the kitchen and opens the nearby refrigerator, looking around inside for something, her back to you as she searches. Her shoulders drift lower and lower, as she bends down to find whatever it is that she is looking for. Unwillingly, your eyes are drawn to your daughter's firm ass, taut and thick from a decade of gymnastics, as her shorts strain against it and her well-rounded cheeks sneak out from the worn hemline of her shorts. A warmth builds both in your cheeks and in your groin before you managed to avert your gaze in shame.

A pang of guilt washes over you. She is your daughter, and despite being a beautiful woman, she deserves the respect a father should provide. Not the leers of a pervert. Perhaps, you are only excited after what happened with Nadia earlier. It was the first time in years that you touched her that way. Or anyone for that matter. You're a man and you still have needs - it isn't healthy. You hope that is it.

Before you realize it, Karina leaves the kitchen with a quiet "goodnight," already headed upstairs to bed. You sigh, turning back to your phone. Another opportunity to talk with her, lost.

Affection Multiplier Achievement: Blood of my blood.

No-no-no. Please no.

You click on the notification, and a familiar popup opens in the Affection Multiplier app.

Achievement: Blood of my blood. Congratulations, you had sexual thoughts about a blood relative, you degenerate fuck, and unlocked this achievement. As a reward for your depravity, blood relatives' scores increase at an additional 5% rate. For example, if your base rate is 10x, your new rate will be 10.5x. Don't **** it, honkey - that shit is weird.

Your heart sinks into your chest. It is real. It has to be. No hack could see into your soul like that. Even worse, you learn this truth while lusting after your daughter. One moment of weakness, after eighteen years of watching her in spandex, and this happens? No - you will reject it. You will not think of Karina that way. As you try to distract yourself, another notification appears.

Achievement: Love & Lust: You somehow managed to instill a feeling of love or lust in another human being. As a reward, you have unlocked the love and lust stats for all relationships. Good work!

The introduction window reopens, resuming where it left off.

[9/10] About time! Love and Lust are important factors outside of the Affection score. As affection increases, love may also increase. As it lowers, so may love. Love is derived from how much the person ... loves you. Yeah, duh. Love ranges from -100 to 100. Lust has a similar range, but it is totally dependent on physical attraction and chemical desire. Orgasms can lower lust, while teasing and other aphrodisiacs can increase it. Google it or something, I don't know. Now, get out there and make them love you, pig!

Two new stats? You ponder what that means until you realize you can search around the app and find out. Soon, you find yourself back at the Relationships screen. New circles float around you now. Ivan, Anastasia, Nadia, Karina. You click on each in turn.

Ivan Gorvachev

• Affection Score: 23 (+1)
• Love: 18 (+0)
• Lust: 0 (+0)
• Notes: Local leader of the Gorvachev crime family. Owner of the Rice Room. Father of Anastasia Gorvachev. Your uncle.

Anastasia Gorvachev

• Affection Score: 14 (+0)
• Love: 3 (+0)
• Lust: 1 (+0)
• Notes: Daughter of Ivan Gorvachev. Bartender at the Rice Room. Your cousin.

A lust score of one, from Anastasia? Weird.

Nadia Malyshev

• Affection Score: -35 (-3)
• Love: -28 (-1)
• Lust: 5 (+5)
• Notes: Mother of Karina Malyshev. Your wife.

What the fuck - your wife not only doesn't love you - she actively dislikes you. You feel that this should upset you, but you can't help and know it deep in your heart. It is only confirmation of a thousand days next to her. Still, you're surprised to see the spike in her lust. Maybe that touch in the kitchen affected her more than she showed.

Karina Malyshev

• Affection Score: 8 (+1)
• Love: 35 (+1)
• Lust: 0 (+0)
• Notes: High school senior, preparing for college. Your daughter.

At least your daughter loves you, despite you barely being there for her. You're glad to see her lust score is at zero, soothing your trembling heart from the disturbing thought that you had earlier. Not knowing what else to do, you head upstairs and get ready for bed, crestfallen at another night spent alone.