"No!" he gasped.
He backed away. His daughter's touch had been exquisite and appalling in equal measure.
"Daddy... don't go... please!"
He turned, his back to her, willing himself to walk towards the door. Get out, he said to himself. Get out get out get out...
"Stay Daddy... I won't do anything... I promise... but stay..."
He paused. Go, go, get out. He told himself.
Then, shivering, though it wasn't cold, he shuffled to the chair like an old man. The blood was roaring in his ears. He lowered himself down and bowed his head, staring at the patterns thrown on the floor by the moonlight.
"I shouldn't have done that Daddy, I'm sorry."
He still couldn't trust himself to say anything. His cock was still enflamed and he hated it. He hated himself, her, Angie, the world, everything.
"You still love me, don't you Daddy? You said you would, no matter what?"
Her voice was anxious and trembling. Like she was a young child again.
"Say something Daddy!"
"Of course I love you," he managed.
"I love you too Daddy, that's all it was, I just wanted to help you and I love you so much and you're so... you're just perfect Daddy, and I thought... maybe... I just wanted it."
God I wanted it too, he thought. You have no idea how much in that moment I could have fallen upon you and buried myself in your beautiful sweet flesh...
"And you were so hard, Daddy, I could see how hard you were and I loved that, I loved seeing that. I know I shouldn't have touched you... but I couldn't help it. Was that so bad, Daddy?"
"No," he muttered, but too softly for her to hear.
"Talk to me, I can't hear you, please just look at me. Please!"
He lifted his head and looked at her. His beautiful daughter, bathed in the moonlight, her anxious lovely face just discernible in the pale light.
"It was bad, Linda, it was bad what you did... but..."
Could he actually say it to her? There would no unsaying it.
"... I wanted it to."
Even in the half-light he could see her close her eyes. Was that relief? Disgust?
"I wanted it to," he went on, "and I'm so sorry, I should have been stronger, but it was a moment of weakness and I will never do it again and you must - we must - I must... never..."
"Sssh," she said, her eyes opening again. "Just hush, Daddy. It's ok. It will be ok."
Will it, he wondered? Will it ever really be ok again?
He shivered again.
"Are you cold, Daddy?"
He didn't say anything. He just looked back across the room at his daughter, feeling a growing sense of despair.
"Get into bed beside me Daddy. I won't touch you, I promise, I won't do anything unless you tell me to. But you're cold, you're shivering, get in beside me."
She shuffled back slightly in the bed and opened the blankets a little way, beckoning him in.
He stared at her for another long moment. If I get into that bed, he thought, I may never want to leave. Go back to your room, he told himself. Pack your bags. There's a whole world out there you can hide in. They won't know what a twisted, sick individual you are. Go back to your room.
He got up and walked towards the bed. She shuffled back a little further. Slowly and tentatively he slid into bed alongside her and lay back, head on the pillow, arms by his sides, careful to avoid even the slightest touch of her. His cock raged inside his jeans like a rod of iron. If she touches that again, he thought, my whole body might explode.
"Just relax, Daddy, get warm. It's ok." She was soothing him like a mother with a young child. There was a musky smell in the bed and he sensed a slight dampness through the jeans below his buttocks. That came from daughter's pussy, he thought. My daughter's cunt leaked that onto bed because she was thinking about fucking. Thinking about fucking you. Thinking about your cock. He shivered again.
"You'll be warmer in a minute, you'll see."
"Yes," he said softly. He was lost now, he could never leave, he hoped the sun would never rise and he could just lie there in the dark forever, his beautiful daughter as close as they could ever be but still a million miles away from what his fevered imagination now wanted.
"It's so lovely to have you in my bed," she whispered. "Even if we just lie here like this forever, it would be enough."
It was like she was reading his mind.
"Almost enough," she added softly. "But you're right Daddy, we should stop here. No more."
He closed his eyes. Yes. No. She was right. She was wrong. He didn't know anything.
"I wish we could do more, Daddy, but we can't, can we?"
Was she asking or telling?
