Our Little Dark Secret

He heard a car door slam outside, and peeked through the blinds. His door was unlocked, and he saw her fast approaching. He didn't want to delete the computer image he had worked over for hours. Panic! He was wearing only his boxer shorts, and had been nursing a sweet erection while he labored happily over still another work of erotic art. He left the computer on, but quickly turned off the monitor, and dashed down the narrow hall to his bedroom. Francesca ordinarily would have waited for her dad to let her in, but she caught a brief glimpse of him fleeing the computer room. More curious than not, she let herself in her father's mobile home.

"Dad?" she called out. "In a moment, hon!" Roberto replied. "Be right there!"

Francesca's mom and dad had divorced many years ago, and she really didn't know her dad that much. He married a second time--- to a flashy blonde 20 years younger, but divorced her. Now avoiding serious relationships, he had moved several times, but now lived alone, not far from Francesca's house. She and her father had had their ups and downs over the years, but their relationship was improving.

"Can't stay long," she called out. "What are you doing?"

"Be right there!"

he replied somewhat nervously. She noted that the green light on his computer was lit, but that the monitor was turned off. "Inquiring minds want to know," she thought to herself, always curious about what her father did by himself. Listening for his return, she turned on the monitor, and stared dumbfounded at the image on the screen. She had never posed nude for anyone, but her father had obviously manipulated a photo of her so that she appeared nude. Not only nude, but bound and gagged! She heard him coming, tried to catch her breath, slammed the door, and left. Roberto heard her car roar away. "Oh shit!" he said as he looked at the still-present image of his beautiful, nude, bound- and- gagged daughter.

Roberto wanted desperately to call her, to apologize for his sin, to beg her not to walk out of his life. Francesca and her husband Randy were seeking a divorce, so her father doubted she would tell him. And she and her brothers were out of touch. Whatever Roberto had told his daughter in the past, had usually gotten back to her mother. After all, Roberto was low man on the totem pole with Francesca and her brothers; ex-wife Corrine had been the family "matriarch" who had always tended to her grown children's needs after he left the state and remarried. But Corrine had died unexpectedly several months ago. Even if Francesca hadn't told her husband, she would most likely slam the phone in Roberto's ear.

He felt like committing suicide. He loved his daughter....yes....like a daughter. He cursed the devil within, who, he felt, took advantage of Roberto's still raging testosterone to wind him in like a helpless fish. The problem started a few summers ago, while Francesca was tending her garden. Roberto found himself staring at his dark-haired daughter's tanned and shapely long legs, and experienced an enormous unavoidable erection. Francesca must have known, when she invited him to her kitchen for lunch, and he declined with embarrassment. Francesca was certainly not an exhibitionist, and Roberto theorized that, like her mother, she was maybe even a little frigid. Yet, how could she not know that her strikingly sensual Romanesque face and slender curves aroused men, especially when when she wore her favorite summer outfit: a flimsy sleeveless blouse (when she raised an arm, a lightning-fast glance revealed the lacy white bra that caressed a small, untanned, milky white mound of young breast), and the utterly skin-tight, tattered and torn (Lord!) blue-jean short-shorts that hugged her luscious loins.

Not hearing from Francesca for several weeks, and afraid to call her, Roberto decided to send her a letter. Had Randy still been with Francesca, Roberto never would have dared send it. It started out as an apolgy, but went on to explain his feelings. There was no room for denial. Francesca had seen the image of herself, naked and bound! She knew she was always in her father's thoughts!

"Dear Francesca,

Oh God, I am so sorry! You are my only daughter, and I love you more than life itself. I would give my own life for you! I can only beg you to forgive me for the dark sin that has long stained my rotten soul. Sometimes, I wish I could just do what the Bible says, cut off the part that makes me sin! I recently saw a TV movie about a loving husband who was hopelessly addicted to outside sex. That's me! All my miserable life! But why have I sinned over you, my only daughter, the sweetest, most innocent young lady in my life? I suppose only the devil knows! I suspect it is because of your very innocence! One day. I came across an old photo of you, and realized how litttle time we had spent together. And, then, I started getting....feelings! I am a pitifully unworthy father! My flesh is weak! You are so beautiful! Tall, slender, golden-tanned, marvelously formed, with the most shapely long legs I have ever seen!

Your face! Oh God, your face is the most erotic part of your being! You are..... forbidden fruit! Francesca, I want you to know that I would never touch you! I would kill anyone who threatened to harm you! I know you have been having problems with your husband. God, you are so beautiful!!! If you do not excite him, he is a senseless, sexless fool! Normal, red-blooded men lust over you! My flesh, too, is weak! I suspect you will never want to see me again! I love you. I know I am sick, but mostly from guilt and sorrow! Yet, all I do is hope and pray that you will someday forgive me! I wish there were something I could do to fix this! I will love you as my daughter forever! I will love you as a woman forever!

Dad

Two weeks later, Roberto, again clad only in his boxer shorts, was at his computer when the young beauty knocked at his door. He was overwhelmed with joy at seeing his daughter, yet fearful of her Latin anger. Once again, in the summer warmth, she wore a sleeveless checkered shirt and torn blue- jean short-shorts. "Francesca," he said, "I thought I would never see you again! Can you ever forgive me?" She looked past him at the computer. "I really shouldn't have come here," she said coldly. "Do you still have that picture?"

"N...no," Roberto lied. "I got rid of it....." Was she looking for proof to start some kind of action against him? He stared into the dark almond eyes that always excited him (along with everything else about her). Yes, I do," he admitted. "All right, let me see it," she said. Roberto felt nauseous with fear and shame.

The nude image of his bound and gagged daughter appeared on the screen. "I guess I inherited my art skills from you," she remarked matter-of-factly. (Francesca was a damned good but "starving" freelance artist.) "It really does look like I posed nude," she remarked. "My real breasts are smaller, you know...., but I guess you haven't seen all of me since I've become a woman. Do you have others pictures?"

"Please don't, Francesca!" her father pleaded. "Show me!" she insisted, as if wielding a whip over a cowering man into kinkyness. In his fifties, Roberto still looked youthful, working out and and lifting weights several times a week. Every once in awhile, he enjoyed intimacy with a much younger woman.

As he nervously clicked on each file, Francesca began kneading the muscles in his shoulders. "Still working out, I see," she noted. "You're looking good." He felt a softening in her tone. Immediate erection! In the original images, Francesca was fully dressed. Roberto had cropped her away from normal settings and stripped off her clothing, adding firm young breasts, an enticing naval, and neatly trimmed (but sometimes "shaved" ) pubic hair. In the manipulations, she either wore only a bra and panties, was partially naked, with torn clothes, or nude. He had sometimes turned her smiling face into that of a terror stricken woman, by rearranging her mouth and eyes. One picture portrayed her as Tomb Raider's Lara Croft, being sucked down into the ocean depths by an octopus! Francesca gasped at one image of herself, helplessly bound to a chair, her eyes covered, a "thought balloon" asking "who is he?" as her own father hovered naked over her, his huge penis erect! Roberto gulped with humiliation. Using a cheap digital "pen camera," he had inserted nude pictures, which he had taken of himself, into some of her bondage scenes!

In another scene, she was an American female fighter pilot, being dragged from her fallen plane by angry and highly -aroused Arabs who tore at her clothes, and fought to be first. He had stopped short of portraying actual rapes, "old fashioned" dad that he was! "You really are sick, Dad!" she remarked. The world around him was spinnng, and he almost heaved. "Wow! You really do have dirty thoughts about me, don't you?"

"But only thoughts!" he whispered awkwardly, " I would never....... (he had trouble getting this out)..... touch you!"

"So many sexy babes to download, and I cause you to ejectulate!" (Francesca never ever spoke "dirty"). She took a big breath, and resumed massaging.

"Dad," she said, as you probably know, Randy and I are history. He lusts only for his "Budweisers" and his good ole boys. "I'm sorry to hear that," Roberto offered. "Don't be," she said. "I'm glad it's over! I married way too young! And I never bother with Ryan or Tim." She took a long pause. "You might as well know that I have a very dark side, too! Maybe just as dark as yours! Dark daydreams. I guess I inherited it from you! I've often dreamed of that big black mailman, who always stared rudely at me, when I worked at the post ofice, but never said hello, He's forcing open my front door, and carries me over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes, upstairs to my bedroom," she explained casually, " or being ravished by a half dozen teenagers who had make kitten sounds to lure me into the darkness with only my weak flashlight! I guess I'm a sick puppy, too! Thank you very much!"

"Well..I'm so sorry, honey.." Roberto said, trembling., "I never would have thought that you....!"

She stared at the computer image of her highly aroused father. "Is that really your penis?" she asked. "A bit digitally enlarged," he admitted, but I'm pretty damned big!!!"

"I don't know why I've told you all this stuff, dad!' she sighed. "But who else could I tell?"

"Just don't get your hopes up, " she warned. Don't ever think you'll shag me. (Roberto was surprised at Francesca's use of the word "shag."). "I wouldn't want to," he lied. "Oh yeah! she said. "We're two peas in a pod. I can read your mind!"

What next? Roberto thought. What was his daughter leading up to? "Do you really think I turn on men?" she asked. "Oh God, yes!" her father replied with enthusiasm. She noticed the sticky wet tip of his cock peeking from the fly of his boxer shorts.

She stared down at the floor. "No more making fake pictures of me," OK?"

"I promise," he agreed. "Dad, I've told no one about this. I'm good at keeping secrets now." She got up to leave, so it was now or never. "Would you ever consider.....?"

His daughter stared at him with her sexy dark almond eyes. "pose for you?"

"......yes," he blushed.

She turned her back on him and headed for the door. He watched her sexy ass, encased in impossibly tight shorts. "You just refuse to give up, don't you?" she said, as she opened the door.

"Francesca, I'm sorry," he said. "Will I at least see you?" She stopped at the opened door.

"See you Friday night," she said, "unless, of course, you have a date!" And oh, daddy dearest," she added as she stepped outside, "better get yourself a damned good digital camera before then!"

"Huh?" he exclaimed. But he didn't dare ask her to repeat herself.

"This will be our little dark secret!" she called out.

Francesca kept her promise that Friday night, and was glad to see that her father was ready. "Nice camera!" she said. "Maybe we'll start a online paysite," he considered to himself gleefully.