The shock of recognition hit me like a slap to the face when I saw her smiling openly and brazenly from between the pages of the men's magazine. I don't usually look at that type of publication, but I was idly thumbing through the pages whilst on my break at work. Someone had left the magazine lying on the table in the coffee area and since the place was deserted and I had nothing else in particular to do...
The magazine in question had a section devoted to reader's wives and it was in that particular area that I saw the pictures of Emma, my daughter.
I'd picked the magazine up and was just scanning through when there she was, bold as brass and smiling openly as though it was perfectly natural that she should be posing nude for a men's magazine. She was smiling happily, quite brazenly, with no inhibitions whatsoever as she posed, wide legged, exhibiting her body with apparent relish.
There were four photos in all and these were accompanied by some adjacent text. Unable to resist, I morbidly read the text and was stunned by the contents, even more disturbing was my body's reaction to what I read.
In essence, Emma described a scene whereby three men had fucked her simultaneously whilst on holiday in Spain that summer. I knew that it was a true story since we'd gone on holiday as a family. All four of us, my wife and me, our daughter, Emma and our son, Peter, had travelled to Spain only three months earlier. I recognized the men that Emma was referring to as three overly attentive barmen from our hotel. I remember thinking at the time that they were always pleased to see our group, now I knew why.
As I read through Emma's escapade, which she described in shockingly lurid detail, I was appalled when my cock stiffened quickly with excitement. What sort of pervert was I? My own daughter's naked body sexually aroused me as it was flaunted in the pages of the magazine and I had become aroused by her tale of group sex in which she was the centre of attention.
In shock and confusion, I pushed the magazine into the waste basket and buried it beneath the used paper cups and the remains of sandwiches that the lunchtime rush had left behind. I spent the rest of the afternoon bemused, shrouded in a fog of distraction as the images of my naked daughter and the revelation of her sexual adventures tumbled through my thoughts. I was deeply disturbed by my reaction and was constantly tortured by the desire to toss myself off and relieve the tension that was centred on my abdomen. I recognized my lust and was torn with guilt for the way in which my desire had been aroused.
It was all to no avail. I'm ashamed to say that later that afternoon, when I arrived home from work to an empty house, I could contain myself no further and I pulled urgently at my cock until my semen spat from me. I used the stored mental images of my beautiful daughter and recalled how she'd described sucking their big cocks eagerly and how she'd enjoyed being fucked by all three of them in turn.
I was hit by a wave of remorse immediately my cock had ceased spitting its load and I was horrified by what I'd seen in my mind's eye. Never again, I vowed, never again would I think of Emma in that way. It wasn't right, it wasn't natural and I decided to let sleeping dogs lie and not to bring the subject up for discussion with my daughter either. She was nineteen, she was adult, and as shocked as I had been by what I'd seen and read, she had to make her own choices and mistakes.
I looked at my daughter in an entirely new light when she breezed in from work later that evening. I found myself looking at her as a woman, rather than as my daughter and I imagined how she must have looked as she allowed those three men to use her like they did. I looked at her pretty face and imagined her lips wrapped around a penis and her cheeks all smeared with precum and spunk.
'Are you OK, Dad,' Emma's voice brought me back from my sordid, perverted reverie.
'Huh?' I replied, 'oh yeah, sure, sorry I was miles away there.' I reddened with embarrassment, sure that Emma could read my mind and I made up some weak excuse and left her alone.
Throughout the next few days I suffered a gladiatorial struggle with myself. I found that the images of my daughter would simply pop unbidden into my head and as much as I fought the urge I knew I'd eventually succumb, forced by my burning desire to tug at my cock until my climax gave me some respite from my desires. Of course the guilt and shame were insistently knocking at the door of my consciousness as soon as the pleasure of my release had abated and only added to my confused state of mind.
The situation deteriorated to such an extent that on one Thursday evening, when I knew I'd have the house to myself for a couple of hours, I visited my daughter's room and took a look through her things. I didn't have any clear idea of what I was doing or what I was actually looking for, the whole illicit nature of my reconnaissance was exciting in the extreme, so much so that I was trembling as I opened drawers and examined the contents.
All the time that I was sneaking around my daughter's private space, I was berating myself silently. I knew it was very wrong of me to be there, but I was too weak to resist. Then I made the discovery. I found the actual prints of the photos that were in the magazine. Not only that, I found more photos that where much more shockingly explicit than those I'd already seen. My God, Emma had quite a collection of homemade porn, all of which featured her, my own beautiful daughter, in the starring role.
There were a lot pf pictures and I had a fleeting moment of curiosity as to who had actually taken them, but then I found the mother lode, Emma with her mouth full of cock. As I flicked through the pictures one by one I was shocked to see Emma actually fucking. The look of sheer abandoned enjoyment on her face sent an arterial burst of lust through me and once again I just had to pull my cock out and wank. Recklessly, I spread the photos out across my daughter's bed and cast caution to the four winds of the madness that gripped me. My eyes darted from one image to the next as I tugged on my thick, hard penis. I was oblivious to my surroundings and could only concentrate my attention on the images of Emma as she sucked and fucked.
It was inevitable that I would be caught. Fate just wouldn't allow such an opportunity to pass by and I was discovered just as my cum spurted thickly from my cock head. I looked up to see Emma standing in the open doorway, her mouth agape as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.
'Dad? Oh my God, Dad!' Emma's eyes were huge as she stared at me in shocked disbelief.
I could only stand there with my jeans around my ankles and cum dripping from my hand. I'd made an attempt to catch my goo, but the shock of discovery meant that drops of the stuff were now splashing onto the carpet in Emma's bedroom.
'Jesus ...No!' Emma rushed into the room and scooped up the pictures that lay spread over her bed. ''What? Dad ...what are you...' She looked at me, her face scarlet. I don't know if she was embarrassed by my knowledge of her stash of amateur porn, or whether finding her own father masturbating was the cause, but either way the entire situation was massively uncomfortable and acutely mortifying.
I pulled my jeans up quickly, my mind was awhirl, what had I done? God, why did I do it? My daughter had caught me... Oh no! The shame of it...
'Emma...' I stopped, the words just stuck, what could I say? There was nothing that could be said, things would never be the same between us again. Never, it was irreparable.
I fled, leaving Emma in that desecrated place and I went to the kitchen and took a beer from the fridge. I was on autopilot, I felt numb and I just wanted to disappear. All manner of fantasy escapes went through my mind. I could just leave, pure and simple. Just pack a bag and go. How could I face Emma after... after that episode?
'Dad?'
I heard Emma's voice behind me but remained immobile and hoped she'd go away.
Her hand touched my shoulder, 'Dad... Please, we have to talk.' Where did she get the strength? I was ashamed and humiliated, I couldn't face her but she pressed on insistently. 'Dad..' I heard her voice break and my own heart shattered. 'I'm sorry,' she murmured, 'I'm so ashamed... Those photos... Oh Dad, please forgive me.'
I was stunned, she was asking for my forgiveness! Surely she had it wrong, it should be me, crawling and begging her...
I turned and saw my beautiful daughter's tear stained face. I felt the swell of love for my little girl and did the only thing I could think of; I stood and hugged her to my chest tightly. I felt Emma's sobs wrack her slim body as she snuffled into my shirt and I found that I was reflexively stroking her long, straight hair as I whispered to her that everything would be OK.
I don't know how it began, the minutes following Emma's tearful plea for forgiveness have been smudged beyond recollection and I have no clear memory of those fateful events. Somehow the reassuring hug I was giving my daughter turned into an embrace and before either of us realized what was happening we were kissing. It wasn't a tender kiss between father and daughter, but was a hot, urgent kiss between two lovers. At the end of a long corridor, way back in my mind, I registered that this was so wrong, it shouldn't be happening, but once again, I was enveloped in the red mist of overwhelming lust.
