The Apology

Author's note: This work is a work of fiction... blah, blah, blah. You get the idea. In my mind, Lisa is about 19.

Dear Lisa,

I cannot begin to apologize for my actions earlier tonight, and please know that none of it was your fault. I've started this letter a hundred times in the last four hours, trying to find the right words to express how truly sorry and remorseful I am.

Please, at least read this letter through, and then I will accept any decision you make and admit my guilt to anyone you request of me.

Tonight, when you came home so obviously upset again, your mother and I felt that one of us should talk to you. Lately it's been happening a lot more and we're very worried about the cause. We've tried to talk to you about it, but neither of us has been able to get much out of you. In the end, we decided that since you and I have always been much more open with each other, it should be me.

As your father, I have always taken great pride in how close we are, how much we talk and how much you confide in me. We have discussed so many things in the past, and I felt this time would be no different than any other. This was my first mistake.

After seeing your mother to bed, I assured her I would have a long talk with you and see if we could get to the root of the problem. Lisa, please understand that this really was my intention when I knocked on your door tonight.

I felt that I could get you talking as I have in the past - just like when you were fighting with Kennedy last year and we sat up for half the night to talk it through. You didn't want to talk at first then either, but after a while you told me everything.

You told me how you weren't sure boys were really for you, how you'd tried to talk to Kennedy about how you felt for her, how she'd rejected you and the hurtful things you'd both said to one another. I could see the relief painted all over your face as we talked, and I can't express how much joy that had given me - knowing that you trusted me so much to reveal some of the most challenging moments of your life.

Anyway, I was sure this time would be no different. I knocked on your door; the same door I had mistakenly stepped through finding you and Kennedy in an intimate embrace. The same door I installed a lock on to give you your privacy and ensure your mother never made the same mistake. I think we both know he wouldn't have understood.

"Click" Came the report from the bolt, and the door slid open a few inches.

"Hey Dad." You said.

In spite of myself, and all the effort I've put in over the years since you developed into a woman, my eyes drifted down for a fraction of a second. You were dressed in your traditional nighttime attire - one of my old T-shirts two sizes too big for you that draped down to your knees.

I admit, I had a not-so-fleeting thought (Actually one I've had far too many times) about whether there were panties on underneath.

I could clearly see the outline of your breasts through the old material, even your large hard nipples were easily visible at such close distance.

You looked up at me and I felt, more than saw, the torment behind that false veil of a smile you tried to put on. In what I can only describe as a moment where we truly connected, I felt your pain and I knew it was over between you and Kennedy.

I pushed the door open, and wrapped my arms around you. You melted into my arms as if you were ten years old again.

"Shh..." I whispered, holding you tight. I could feel the firmness of your body press against me, and I was reminded of the countless sports you had engaged in over the years.

I could feel you begin to softly sob into my shoulder, and as you started to sag into me I lifted you up and carried you over to your bed, sitting you down on the edge, I nestled in beside you.

You nuzzled into my shoulder and began to cry in earnest, pulling yourself into me with a strength I hadn't anticipated.

"What's wrong honey?" I asked, rubbing your back as I'd done a thousand times before.

All I could get in response was a renewed outburst of tears and you twisting away to crash onto your bed, turning into a fetal position.

I couldn't bear the thought of you being in such pain and I lay down behind you, wrapping my arm around you. Whispering reassurances in your ear, I pulled you in tight. This is perhaps where I made my second mistake.

At this point, I think it's important to tell you I was just there to comfort you in any way I could. As any parent would, I just wanted to protect you from whatever evil you were faced with. I didn't think for a second that the evil would be me.

At some point in that embrace, you began to regain control and I was relieved to feel the change. Unfortunately, it was about that same time that I noticed a completely unfatherly stirring. In my haste to wrap my arms around you, I had (I swear) accidentally placed my right-hand on your breast. It was the gradual realization that the flesh within my hand was soft and supple rather than like the firm arm I thought I was holding.

My body realized it long before I did, and it wasn't until my growing erection pressed into your warm butt uncomfortably that I realized what was happening.

I admit that I am a weak man, and it was a completely innocent shift on your part that set me off. I felt you shift slightly in front of me and the engorged head of my penis pressed directly between your cheeks. The warm embrace set my mind reeling and for the first time I began to intentionally fondle your breast.

I squeezed and caressed the fleshy orb through the flimsy cotton material, feeling that heavenly tenderness that all men crave. I could feel you suddenly stop crying and despite every signal my fatherly soul was sending me that what I was doing what so completely wrong - I slid my hand up under the T-shirt, feeling the soft skin of your breast in my hand for the first time.

"Wha... What are you doing dad?" You asked, but I ignored you. Instead of stopping, I sought out your nipple, rolling it over in my fingers.

I'm not sure if it was my mind in overdrive or if I really heard it, but I thought I heard you gasp when my lips brushed against your neck.

"Dad?" You repeated, your voice a tangle of surprise and concern. Again your plea went unanswered.

I don't know what came over me at that point. Looking back now I knew what I had done up until then was wrong, and I knew that I should stop. I made the choice to continue, despite every ounce of my being screaming that it was wrong. That I was doing something unspeakable. That I wasn't going to stop.

In a second, I had ripped off the t-shirt and exposed your completely nude body. Your eyes showed fear, but I continued. I don't think I even really registered what your body looked like naked. I admit, despite how I've hurt you and violated you, I regret that I rushed.

My pajama shorts were off in an instant, and I was ready.

"Wait, dad..." You began, but I pressed my mouth down onto yours as I thrust into you. The timing was right, and your mouth flew open with the sudden shock, allowing my tongue to enter your mouth and for me to kiss you in earnest.

You didn't resist, whether from shock or fear I still don't know, and at some point your body betrayed you, lubricating my assault and encouraging me even more.

I pounded into you at a furious pace, violating you in a way I never thought possible of myself.

"Daddy..."

I was too far gone. I couldn't possibly hold back any longer. I felt a sudden moment of clarity as my orgasm arrived like a freight train. I was inside my own daughter, I was cumming inside you.

I admit it was both the most erotic and most revolting experience of my life at once. Shot after shot rocketed up into you, and I was utterly spent. It was so much that I felt the overflow push back and ooze out around myself.

It took me over a minute to begin to regain my senses. I had just done something completely unforgivable. And yet, despite everything it was also the single most intimate moment I had ever shared with anyone in my life. Despite it all, I only regret how I took advantage of you. For that, I am truly sorry. I wish I could say that this act would never happen again, for I know that now I have had a taste, I want more. I fear what else I might do to you if given the chance. When I installed that lock on your door, I never imagined you would need to use it to safeguard yourself from me.

Lisa, I love you, no matter what you think of me now. I love you as I have always loved you, and now more.

Love always,

Dad.

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Dear Dad,

Two things:

1.I said "Wait" because I wanted you to use a condom. I'm not on the pill yet.

2.My door isn't locked.

Love Always,

Lisa