Behind the Black Door

He had decided to take a trip out to the country, and he needed a photographer to go with him. There were snappers he knew, who he trusted, that he could've asked. But, he had decided he didn't want anyone at work to know. So, who could a) provide the necessary photographic equipment, and b) actually take the shots? He'd pondered this for a while, when suddenly inspiration had hit him.

Kasia Nowak - Al's sex worker friend - had been absolutely on the money when she had inquired of Siobhan how things were going at college. She was doing photography. It was part of a larger course devoted to communications and modern media. It was bloody expensive, another drain on Al's finances, but it did give her access to top-of-the-range cameras and long, telephoto lenses.

That was why she had joined him on this little expedition. They had parked up a mile or two away from the PM's country residence. Al had been told by some of the more experienced photographers at work where the best spots were for getting a good view. And so the two of them were traipsing through the undergrowth, carrying a pair of binoculars and an expensive, borrowed Nikon camera.

Siobhan hadn't needed much convincing to come with him. As far as she was concerned, it was all a big adventure. The whole thing seemed exciting and intriguing. She had been fascinated when he explained the allegations being made about the Prime Minister and his daughter.

"You mean they are shagging each other?" She asked, open-mouthed in astonishment.

"Apparently."

"Father and daughter? Having sex?"

"So my source tells me."

"Jesus! How did that happen?"

"I've no idea. I don't even know for certain if they are lovers. You can't really tell from the clip if it's really them."

"Clip?" She exclaimed. "What clip?"

And so Al explained who Mrs E was, and how there was moving footage of two people having sex. Siobhan insisted on seeing it. She sat next to him and he played her the clip. When it was finished, she didn't say anything for a few moments. She just sat there, looking kind of stunned. Then...

"Wow." She whispered.

"Yeah, wow is right."

They glanced at one another, the two of them sat on his bed, their hips touching. She looked slightly flushed and he noticed her nipples were hard. She was biting her bottom lip. Not for the first time, he desperately wanted to kiss her. Just lean over and press his mouth against hers. Lift his hand up and cup her breast. Push his tongue into her mouth. Wrap his arms round her. Pull her onto his lap. Make love to her.

But he restrained himself.

"So...so, you're going to publish this? Tell the whole world the Prime Minister is sticking his dick inside his daughter?"

"Well, that's a rather crude way of putting it. I don't think my editor would approve of that exact phrasing. But, in answer to your question, no. Not yet. I need more evidence than this."

"And how are you going to get that?"

"I have a couple of ideas."

The first one involved Al and Siobhan's little expedition out into the country. He'd asked her if she could get hold of a camera and she had said she could. He had also told her to dress appropriately as they were likely to be going off road. He wanted them to be inconspicuous as well. In both regards, she had ignored him completely. Siobhan had decided that inconspicuous meant dressing like a slutty schoolgirl. He couldn't believe what she was wearing when he picked her up that morning. She had chosen a pair of black, knee-high platform boots, white stockings, a green and black chequered mini-skirt that barely covered the crack of her arse, a tight white blouse and a striped tie. She even had her hair in pigtails, for Christ's sake.

He didn't say anything when she got in the car. He never commented on her dress or appearance these days, but it always shocked and disturbed him. The physical transformation she'd undergone in the last few years was profound. It seemed like only yesterday she had been his freckle-faced, red-haired Pudding. She was his favourite. She'd always been his favourite. The boys were great, but they had always been closer to their mother. Siobhan was definitely his child.

He had vivid memories of taking her out to play when she was tiny; running around with her in the park. Pushing her back and forth on a swing. Carrying her on his back, her little arms wrapped round his neck, her little legs wrapped round his waist, her body wriggling against his. He remembered reading bedtime stories to her, as she fell asleep on his lap.

And now look at her.

A sexy little goth, covered in tattoos and piercings. Her insanely voluptuous body practically bursting out of her tight, provocative clothes. She was so sexualised. So tempting. She must be totally unaware of the effect she was having on him. She had to be. The alternative was just too bizarre to contemplate. There was no way she could be doing this on purpose, surely?

Consciously, no she wasn't. Probably. But Siobhan was every bit as fascinated with her father as he was with her. She had worshipped him her entire life. He was her dad, after all, she was supposed to worship him. He was this incredible vital presence in her world. This larger than life figure who she had adored ever since she was a baby.

He was charming and clever and funny. He was sexy too, although she wouldn't realise that until she was much older. She knew she wanted to be with him more than anyone else though. She'd known that right from the start.

"When I get older, will you marry me Daddy?" She had asked him one night, as he was tucking her into bed.

"What do you mean, Pudding?" He had asked her, half a smile on his face.

"I can be your wife, and you can be my husband." She said to him, with adorable earnestness. She must have been four or five at the time.

"Well, daddies don't usually marry their daughters."

"I want you to marry me."

"And what about Mummy?"

She screwed up her face in intense concentration.

"She won't mind."

"Won't she?"

"No. She knows you love me more, so she'll be happy for us."

"Oh that's okay then." He said, barely able to suppress a chuckle. He leant down and kissed her soft forehead, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. "Best dreams, Pudding."

She reached up and repeated the motion, stroking his cheek. "Best dreams, Daddy."

He watched her for a few moments, as her eyelids became heavy and she fell asleep. He could never imagine loving another human being as much as he did her at that moment.

But despite his feelings for her and her brothers, Al would be absent much of the time. His work was the culprit to begin with, but then his libido played a crucial role. He never lost his weakness for young, large-breasted women and there was always an admiring colleague at work, or someone on the road, who would be happy to oblige him.

Siobhan never knew why her parents split up, but she always blamed her mother. This wasn't remotely fair, but children can often be cruel, especially when they don't have all the facts. She was unaware of her father's rather relaxed attitude when it came to monogamy. All she knew was that one day she'd been told he would be moving out. She had been heartbroken and she pleaded with him to stay. Then she had insisted she would go with him, but he had explained that would not be possible. So, she went to her bedroom, curled up in a ball and wept and wept until she fell asleep.

He was never a constant presence after that. Sometimes she would see him fairly regularly, but then there were periods where he would disappear. He was a selfish man in many ways, but Siobhan loved him so much, she could never hold him responsible for anything. The way she continued to treat Monica was fairly abominable, but teenage girls don't always get along with their mothers.

Then, when she was about fourteen, something rather shocking happened. When Al's boys started attending a fee-paying school, they were very much following in their sister's footsteps. Siobhan had gone to a fairly expensive public school for girls. She was a day pupil, rather than a boarder, but it was not unusual for her to stay on after class, to pursue various sporting pastimes or non-academic interests. One afternoon, she was supposed to be playing hockey, but a family emergency for their teacher meant they were all sent home early. Siobhan got a lift from the mother of a girl who lived quite near to her home.

She was dropped off at the end of the road and she walked lazily up to her front door. As she approached, she saw her father's car parked on the gravel drive. Her heart leapt and, excited at the prospect of seeing her Daddy, she ran up to the front door, rummaging through her school bag for her key. But as she did so, from the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement through the front window. She walked over slowly and leant against the pane of glass, gazing in at the activity taking place in the living room.

She saw two naked figures. To begin with, she couldn't compute the fact they were naked, whoever they were. This sight was so alien, so unusual for her, she didn't realise what she was seeing. But, fairly quickly they came into focus and she understood what was going on. Her mother was on her hands and knees, in front of the fireplace, facing away from the window. Behind her was a naked man, and he was fucking her with lusty abandon. Siobhan could see the muscles in his legs and buttocks pulse and strain as his hips moved back and forth. He had his hands firmly gripped round her mother's waist, and Siobhan could see her large breasts swing in rhythm with the movement of his body.

It was only then did she realise the naked man was her father. She gasped. Her mouth fell wide open. She was utterly astonished, utterly dumbfounded by what she was seeing. She knew what sex was. She was a teenage girl in an age where everyone had easy access to the internet. She knew they were fucking. She even knew they were doing it doggy style. But she still couldn't reconcile the facts as they appeared before her.

Were they getting back together? She wondered. Will Daddy be moving back in?

She stood and watched them for a few minutes, in many ways, completely scandalised about what she was seeing. She looked at him more than her. Looked at his body. He was in great shape, for a Dad, she thought. After a while she felt she'd seen enough. She didn't want to get caught, that would be way too embarrassing. So she ran away, ending up on a park bench. She sat there, dazed and confused.

Seeing sex online was one thing but Siobhan had never seen sex up close and personal like that. She had never seen sex in such a raw and visceral way. Especially involving her mother and father. Yuck! Her own sexuality was not yet developed. She was still essentially a child. She had not been aroused by what she had seen, not really, although the thought of her father in that situation would become a go-to masturbatory aid when she was older. For now, she was just confused.

And jealous.

She wouldn't admit that to herself for a long time, but she had been very jealous. It's not that she wanted to have sex with him, not yet, but she always thought she was the person who was closest to her father. Closer than anyone. But clearly her mother was still close to him in a way she could not be. That thought unnerved her, upset her.

Eventually, she returned home. Her parents were dressed and acting like nothing unusual had happened. Al gave her a kiss and she tried to smell her mother on him. There was no trace. They had no great announcement for her either, and pretty soon he left. She went to her room and sat on her bed, a strange mood of uncertainty falling on her shoulders.

Siobhan was not to know that this sexual assignation was hardly a one-off. Almost as soon as they got together, Al and Monica had realised their marriage was a terrible mistake. They didn't get on all that well, often they didn't even like each other. But there was one area where they were perfectly in tune.

Sex.

The sex was always fantastic. Even in the darkest depths of their marital problems, they still fucked like knives. The two of them could have the loudest, angriest, plate-smashing, face-slapping row; but eventually they'd be rutting like beasts. The physical attraction between them was profound. So, every so often, after they got divorced, they would meet up and fuck. It was something they kept from the kids, certain it would only lead to confusion and awkward conversations, but their fooling around carried on for years, even after Monica got remarried. Her attitude to monogamy was hardly beyond reproach either.

Neither of her parents knew that Siobhan had caught them that day, she never let on, but Al's relationship with his daughter changed quite markedly after that. She was a lot more distant with him, less tactile, less physically affectionate. He had noticed this evolution and regretted it deeply; but he dismissed it as a consequence of her adolescence. She wasn't a little girl anymore, something he would notice more and more in the coming years, and he assumed this was just a natural process; she was just growing up and away from him.

Soon, the two of them would be much closer than they could ever imagine.

They had walked about half a mile, through fairly treacherous terrain, when they reached an old stone wall, circling a large field, on the edge of a large forest. Ancient oak trees towered over them as they crouched down together, hiding behind the wall.

"Jesus, you never said we'd have to go hiking!" She exclaimed.

"Well, I did tell you to dress for the outdoors."

"I'm wearing boots."

"Yes, I suppose you are."

She was knelt next to him, her short skirt riding up, once more revealing a wide section of creamy thigh. Her blouse was tight and stretched out across her chest, straining to contain her bust. She was wearing black lipstick and matching eyeliner. Most of her arms were exposed and he could see all her tattoos. She didn't have sleeves as such, but there was a lot of work available for inspection.

Al stood up and peered over the wall, bringing the binoculars to his eyes. He could see the big house in the distance, and he could also see a small figure sat alone on a large patio in the grounds. Siobhan stood up next to him, he was conscious of her close physical proximity, and she lifted up the camera.

"Is that him?" She asked.

"I assume so, but I can't tell for sure. I can't imagine it would be anyone else."

"Where's his little slut?"

"Siobhan, please!" He said, raising his voice in admonition.

"Well, that's what she is."

"We don't know that. We don't know their situation. We don't know for certain if they're sleeping together. And if they are, we don't know who initiated it."

"I think she's a slut." She said, mostly to herself.

"Wait a sec. I think he's sat next to a swimming pool. Can you see splashing water?"

"Yes, I think you're right." Siobhan replied, snapping away with the camera.

Soon enough, another figure appeared, climbing out of the pool. They could see a young woman, wearing a red bikini.

"Jesus! What a prick-tease!" Siobhan whispered.

Fuck me, she's a little hottie, isn't she? Al thought. No wonder he's fucking her.

Al glanced at Siobhan out of the corner of his eye. She seemed entirely oblivious to his attention, as she rattled off a series of snaps. He peered through the binoculars again and he saw that the couple in the distance were talking to each other. Then she walked off towards the house.

"She's moving." Siobhan said, stating the bleeding obvious.

"Okay, let's wait and see whether he joins her."

"Is it safe here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, presumably he's got security? Might they see us and arrest us?"

"I think we'll be all right. We're far enough away to be out of danger."

Siobhan seemed content with that answer and continued staring through the viewfinder of her camera. Al took a step back and stretched his legs. He walked over to the trunk of a tree a few feet away. He turned round and rested against it. Then he looked up and gasped.

His daughter wasn't all that tall, although the platform boots she had on certainly helped. Even so, she could barely see over the top of the wall. She was draped against the ancient stonework, up on tiptoes. He could see the muscles in her legs straining, as she tried to maintain her vantage point. Her arms were up, holding the camera, and he could see the base of her spine. Emblazoned over the smooth skin of her back was a tramp stamp. A celtic pattern engraved into her flesh. He thought she'd only bothered with tattoos on her arms. But now he knew differently.

The tramp stamp was bad enough, but there was something else that had attracted his attention. Siobhan's skirt really was indecently short and from where he was stood, he could see a not insignificant amount of her arse cheeks. Her big fat juicy arse cheeks. Worse than that, he was almost certain she wasn't wearing any knickers. He couldn't be a hundred percent sure, the light wasn't great in their sheltered position, but he thought he could catch a glimpse of her pussy.

Al sighed deeply, staring at his daughter's body. His cock was rock hard. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her.

How sweet would that pussy be? He wondered. He imagined what it would be like to creep up behind her, sink down to his knees and bury his face in her gash, and find out firsthand. What would she do when she felt his hot breath against her exposed naked skin? Would she scream? Would she freak out? Or would she just smile to herself knowingly, set the camera down on the top of the wall, and reach round to lift up her skirt, giving him easier access to her snatch? Would she push back, rubbing her arse in his face, letting his tongue slither inside her, lapping away as her cunt-juice dribbled down her legs?

Or perhaps he could unzip his fly and fish his cock out? She was in the perfect position to get fucked. He could come up behind her and just slip his dick inside her. With one hand, he would grab hold of her waist, with the other he would take a firm grip of her shoulder. The wall would steady the pair of them and he would be able to pound away at her, until she was screaming out like a madwoman.

Just how tight is her cunt? He wondered. Just how tight is my daughter's cunt?

He almost felt himself taking a step forward, when Siobhan suddenly turned round.

"He's gone back inside." She said.

"Oh. Okay. Uh...I suppose we should go then."

So flummoxed and discombobulated was he by his erotic, incestuous musings, Al hadn't heard his daughter gasp. He didn't notice her staring at him, a strange look on her face. He didn't know that when she'd turned round to report the latest update on their little spy mission, she had seen his erection.

He got hard, looking at me, she thought to herself. A realisation that made her pussy gush in furious arousal. It's a good job they were outside, or he would almost certainly have been able to smell her profound sexual excitement.

The two of them began their return journey. Walking through the same overgrown path they had traversed earlier. Siobhan moaned and bitched, exactly the same way she had when they were travelling in the opposite direction, but Al remained silent. All kinds of strange thoughts were floating through his mind, most of them centred on his lubricious daughter.