A Small Souvenir

He grabbed hold of her waist and began to thrust his way deep into her guts, back and forth, back and forth. She made constant moaning noises, or little chirping sounds like a bird. Having this hard column of man-meat slamming in and out of her was something to contend with and she shifted a little uncomfortably on the coffee table.

But then, as was almost always the way when someone came knocking at her back door, she started to get into it. Her anal muscles began to relax, her sphincter loosened up and the lubricant began doing its work. Her father had a big cock and it filled her completely, an intense sensation she could hardly explain.

There was something almost psychological about anal sex. Holly didn't have a G-spot back there, she didn't have a prostate the way men do, so as a mechanical act, it was less arousing than vaginal intercourse. It was similar in some ways to blow-jobs. There was a real pleasure in just being prepared to do it in the first place. The almost giddy gratitude it seemed to inspire.

As far as Holly was concerned, the power of butt-fucking was in the mind. It was still seen as being forbidden and taboo. There was a sense of ultimate submission about it, giving up the one hole so many women would never dream of conceding.

Only dirty, slutty girls take it in the ass, at least that's what some people think, and Holly was proud of being a dirty, slutty girl. And she was letting her own father do it to her, which must make her one of the dirtiest, sluttiest girls of them all.

She reached down beneath her body, finding her clit and rubbing it furiously, while Matt continued to pound away at her from behind. The sound of their bodies slapping together was loud and rhythmic. Slap, slap, slap. Her flesh rippled and jiggled with every thrust.

Matt stretched out his hand and grabbed hold of her hair, pulling her up towards him.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," she muttered, as she arched her back, beads of sweat running down her skin. But the pain didn't faze her. With the kind of hard, intense sex she and her dad so often indulged in, pain was sort of the point. She wanted it to hurt, at least a little. It only made it seem more vivid and real. More nasty and wrong.

"Do you like having Daddy's cock in your filthy shithole?" He hissed in her ear.

"Yes, Daddy," she gasped in reply, "make me scream, Daddy. Make your little girl scream, with your cock in my ass."

"Are you my little fuck-toy, baby girl? Are you my little whore?"

"Yes, Daddy! Yes, Daddy! Yes, Daddy!" She cried out, "I'm my Daddy's nasty little whore!"

"Scream for me then, you little whore. Scream for Daddy."

It was then, as Holly turned to kiss her father, her mouth already stretched wide in anticipation of welcoming his tongue, that she saw Eleanor stood only a few feet away, her body frozen, her jaw dropped wide open in shock.

And Holly did scream. But not in a good way.

13

So, what happened next was pretty ugly, to put it mildly.

Holly's screams were joined in a deafening, hysterical chorus by Eleanor's. Matt's wife then launched herself at Matt's lover, also his daughter, of course, her hands stretched out like claws.

He was still buried inside Holly's anus when Eleanor slammed into her and pushed her on to the floor.

"You cunt! You fucking cunt!" Eleanor screamed, slapping and scratching the younger woman below her.

Matt, now physically disconnected, fell back on to the settee, his semi-erect dick bobbing up and down in front of him. The two women wrestled and rolled on the ground, Holly still completely naked. Eleanor was roaring and raging as she physically attacked her husband's young mistress with unrestrained ferocity and gusto. Holly tried to defend herself, her arms up in front of her face, as Eleanor pulled at her hair.

"You fuck my husband?!" She screamed, "You fuck your father!? You filthy fucking cunt!"

She spat at her, globules of saliva rolling down Holly's cheek, then she made a noise that sounded like a combination of a bellowing bear and a screeching eagle. It cut through the whole room, a horrid and terrifying sound. There was nothing remotely intelligible or decipherable about her; she was just expressing her unalloyed rage with as much venom and hatred as she could conjure up.

Matt finally got his bearings and stood up, grabbing hold of his wife and pulling her away from Holly. She was a bit bigger these days, after birthing two children, but she was still pretty petite. Nonetheless she put up a hell of a scrap, kicking out her feet and shaking her fists. He dragged her away from his naked older daughter, who was curled up like a ball on the floor, whimpering.

"And you, you fucking pervert!" Eleanor screamed, turning to her husband, "How could you do this to your family?! How could you betray me like this?! And the kids!"

She carried on squirming and struggling, as he tried to restrain her. Eventually she stopped fighting and just began sobbing. Matt slowly, tentatively, released his grip and Eleanor lay on the floor, her body racked with a seemingly bottomless and endless despair. Both of the females in the room were prone and tearful, while Matt haphazardly brushed his hands through his hair, panting in confusion and shock, still naked as the day he was born.

It was at this point that the front door could be heard opening and a familiar voice rang out.

"Mum? Are you there?" Hayley shouted, "Dad? Holly?"

At the sound of her daughter, Eleanor roused herself, clambering up to her feet. She turned round to Matt and Holly.

"Get dressed, for fuck's sake," she hissed, "I don't want Hayley to see you two like this."

She vanished from the room, calling out to her daughter.

Holly lay there, her body still visibly heaving with every sob. Matt tentatively moved towards her, tenderly stroking her shoulders with his hands. For a moment, she didn't move, continuing to lie there, wallowing in embarrassment and shame, but then she turned towards him.

"Put on your robe, princess," he whispered, softly, "Hayley could come in at any moment."

Matt could hear his wife talking to his youngest daughter in the hallway, as she tried to deter her from entering the living room. He picked up his own dressing gown, dropped casually on the floor a mere half-an-hour earlier. Matt couldn't quite believe the sudden about-turn in atmosphere. They had been indulging in lighthearted frolics and witty banter, intertwined with lustful sex-play; and then the roof of his world caved in, almost in an instant.

The two of them had just about made themselves decent, when Hayley finally barged past her mother and entered the room. She stopped suddenly, looking at Matt and Holly, both of them sweaty and flushed, wearing dressing gowns and holding each other forlornly.

"Dad?" She whispered, her eyes widening, an echo of her mother's reaction a few minutes before. "What's going on?" She asked, her voice faltering.

Matt tried to smile, tried to be reassuring, but he couldn't find any words to offer. Hayley looked at him, looked at Holly, still sniffling and whimpering in his arms, and then she looked at her father again.

She was young, but not that young, and she was very bright. She didn't understand exactly what was happening, but she knew something weird was going on. She could tell that from the almost frantic state of her mother. And kids her age were exposed to things online that would horrify her parents. So, despite her innocence and lack of worldly wisdom, she could feel the pieces of the puzzle come together. With a sudden inhalation of breath, the penny dropped.

And then she turned tail and ran out of the house.

***

She was gone for nearly three hours. Once Holly and Matt got properly dressed, all three of the adults went looking for the young girl. Separately.

Epitomising it's almost ridiculously idyllic, middle class nature, there was a small river at the bottom of the garden of the Sutton family's home, with a stone bridge stretching across it. Beyond that was a reasonably large wood that led on to farmland and then rolling hillside. The Sutton family owned several acres of this land.

Hayley had always played among the trees when she was very young, despite frequent warnings from her parents not to, and it was easy to assume she had sought refuge somewhere within their confines. Father, mother and half-sister tramped through the fallen leaves and broken twigs of the forest floor, becoming ever more frantic and concerned.

"Hayley! Hayley!" They shouted, the distant sound of each of them, blaring out in the distance.

Increasingly panicked at the prospect of calling the police and reporting her missing, and then having to explain the peculiar circumstances that led to her running away, a sense of impending dread and doom descended on all of them. As had already been established, Hayley wasn't a little girl, she would be a teenager soon enough, so surely she was fine? Angry, upset, shocked but ultimately fine. And yet there was panic and fear in the air nonetheless.

It was Matt who found her. She was curled up amongst the roots of an old Horse Chestnut tree, and she had cried herself to sleep. He picked her up in his arms and carried her back to the house. She felt so small and delicate in his arms, the same way Holly would have done at a similar age, if he had even known she existed back then. How different it was to hold her in his arms now. How very different indeed.

He took Hayley to her room and put her to bed. As he pulled her duvet up over her, she awoke and looked up at him.

"Daddy," she whispered.

"Angel," he replied.

"Where's Mummy?"

"Downstairs."

"And Holly?"

"She's left," he said quietly.

Eleanor had practically thrown her out on the street, chucking a suitcase of her clothes out with her. An Uber turned up twenty minutes later, taking her away. Anywhere. As far from the Sutton family home as possible, that was all Eleanor cared about.

"Oh," Hayley sighed, "it's funny, 'Holly' and 'Hayley' sound so similar, don't they? I'd never really noticed it before."

"Yes, you're right. Me neither."

"You and her...?"

"What, sweetheart?"

"You and her...together?"

He nodded his head, a little bit of him dying inside.

"Oh," she replied, hesitantly, "that's a bit weird, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

Neither of them spoke for a minute, and he continued to softly brush her hair with his hand.

"Will...will you want to do that with me when I'm older?" She asked, out of the blue.

"Oh no, oh no. No, no, no, no, God no, sweetheart. That wouldn't be right. I wouldn't do that with you. I couldn't."

He was almost crying as he said the words. He felt sick with guilt. Not guilty that he had fucked Holly, although clearly that was problematic, to say the least. Not guilty that he'd cheated on his wife, although he felt bad about doing so. But guilty that he had, indirectly, exposed his youngest daughter to all this tawdry sordidness. Guilty that he had forced her to grow up too soon. The earnest, sincere and oddly sweet way she had asked him that question, almost broke his heart.

"But you did that with Holly. Do you love her more than me?"

"No, no way, princess. I love you so much Hayley-kins. So much. More than you could possibly imagine. What happened between me and Holly is a different thing. We didn't know each other when she was little, so our relationship is different. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. And I'm sorry. So sorry."

"What about Mummy? Are you going to leave her?"

"She may want me to leave her. She may not give me a choice."

But by then, Hayley was asleep. Her big brown eyes were closed and she began to snore softly. He lent down and kissed her forehead, before leaving the room and heading downstairs.

Eleanor was sat at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette. She didn't acknowledge his presence; she just sat and stared off into the middle distance. The streaks of ruined mascara still visible on her cheeks.

"I thought you'd quit," he said.

"I mostly have," she responded, still not looking at him, "I keep a pack for special occasions. I'm a social smoker."

"You never told me."

"We all have our secrets," she said, her tone flat and lifeless.

"Yes, I suppose we do."

Nothing was said for the longest time, the married couple sitting in cold, anaemic silence. But then...

"You can never see her again," Eleanor said, her voice almost a whisper.

"Holly?"

"Yes. You can never see her again. Not once."

"So, you forgive me?"

"No, I'll never forgive you. But we can try and move on, I suppose. Live with it."

"Okay."

"You can sleep in the spare room tonight. Not the one she slept in."

"Okay."

Without another word, Eleanor stood up and left the room, her cigarette smouldering in an empty coffee cup.

Matt sat there, alone. He could still feel the lubricant and the sticky residue of Holly's anus on his cock.

***

It could hardly be said that life then went back to normal, but there was some attempt at pretending. Matt continued to sleep in the spare room, and Eleanor mostly ignored him. Liam, who had been on a school trip that weekend, so had missed all the festivities, returned home, almost completely oblivious to what was happening. He noticed his parents were on frosty terms with each other, and he noticed his new older sister was seemingly absent; but Liam, being Liam, just sort of let things slide.

Hayley tried to get along with everyone, frantically play-acting at normalcy, but she had been pretty shook up by what had happened; disturbed by the sudden change in the family dynamic. She didn't understand it, and the atmosphere in the house upset her. And, despite it all, she also missed her sister.

Matt was, for want of a better word, disconsolate. He moped around the house, not sure what to do with himself, his mind a roiling sea of conflicting emotions. He felt guilt - unbelievable guilt - and he felt shame. What he had done to his wife and his other children was unforgivable. He didn't feel any particular regret for fucking his daughter; he wasn't religious, so he felt no sense of moral failing. And it's not as if he had brought Holly up. They'd only met a few months earlier. But he felt bad about cheating on his wife.

There was also loss. He loved Holly and he wanted to be with her. He knew that fact with every fibre of his being. He felt her absence keenly. It wasn't just the sex, although that was absolutely spectacular, but also the emotional connection between them. She was his daughter, but she was the love of his life as well.

But now she was gone, and he would have to live that life without her. At least that's what he thought. A couple of weeks after they were found in flagrante delicto, Matt received an email. He heard his phone ping and he opened up the mailbox. He could see immediately who it was from, and he felt goose-pimples on his skin and a light fuzzy feeling in his stomach. His finger was almost shaking as he pressed on the icon and opened the message.

Hey Dad!

Isn't it funny to use that word - Dad? I didn't use it that often, did I? When we were together - you know, when we were fucking - I called you Daddy. You liked that, didn't you? Your naked, big-boobed daughter calling you Daddy? But you are my Dad, aren't you? Despite it all, despite everything we did, I think of you now as my father.

I'm leaving the UK and heading home. There's nothing for me here now, is there? You haven't gotten in touch, so I assume you're trying to make things right with Eleanor? I hope you can. I don't regret anything we did. I loved every single goddamn moment we shared. Every time I sucked your cock. Every time you went down on me. Every time you fucked me. Every time you fucked my ass (or arse)!

But I am sorry about the pain I caused. Eleanor was so kind to me and I treated her so badly. And Liam and Hayley. Oh, Hayley! Oh God, Hayley! I hope she's okay. I love my little sister so much and I want her to be happy. I hope she has forgiven you. I hope one day she will forgive me.

So, there's nothing else to say, is there? I love you so much and, despite everything, I love what happened between us. I will miss you, Dad. So very much.

With all my love,

Holly, your daughter.

xxx

PS: I fly from Heathrow on Tuesday morning. My flight leaves from Terminal 5 at 11am. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I suppose I do know, really.

Matt gazed at those words for what felt like hours. He read and re-read the email, especially the last part. Eventually, he lay down the phone and stared out of the window, a sense of uncertainty and impending dread washing over him. He was going to have to make some very big decisions in the next day or two and he was going to have break the heart of someone he loved very deeply.

He just hadn't decided yet which heart he was going to break.

On Tuesday morning, he got up early. Before dawn. He had set the alarm, but he was awake long before it rang. In fact, he'd hardly slept at all that night. He got up, showered and quietly eased his way downstairs. Eleanor was an early bird herself, but even she wasn't up quite yet. Matt left a note on the kitchen table and walked out to the driveway. He had secretly put his suitcase in the boot of the car the night before.

With one last look at the house, he turned the key and heard the engine splutter into life. This would be the last time he would ever call this place home. Suddenly, that thought hung over him, with a weight and certainty that unnerved him. For half a second his hand hovered over the car keys, as he considered turning the engine off and going back inside. Instead, he put the vehicle into gear and drove off, heading in the direction of London.

As the car disappeared in the distance, Hayley stood at her window and looked out as her father seemingly left her world.

Maybe an hour later, Eleanor entered the kitchen and turned on the kettle, desperate for her first coffee of the day. She saw the note on the table, addressed simply to Len. She knew what it meant, even before she ripped open the envelope. By the time she read the first half sentence, tears were rolling down her cheeks.

After twenty years, her marriage was over.

***

If it had been written in the script of a cheap '90s romcom, the critics would have said it was a bit corny. A bit too obvious. The big ending that had to bring events to a close. But this was real life and it happened exactly like this, whether Hollywood scriptwriters would believe it or not.

Matt arrived at the airport and frantically made his way into the Terminal building. Terminal 5 was British Airways' flagship home. It was a big space, with plenty of shops and restaurants, and he almost sprinted his way around. With every moment, he became more desperate, certain that somehow he'd got the details wrong. Maybe she was flying later on? Or on a different day?

In the end, he almost bumped into her. Holly had gone into one of the bookshops, hoping to pick up some inflight reading. It was as she sauntered out, that Matt caught sight of her.

"Holly!" He cried out, even though he was only a few feet away.

She looked up and did a double take. She had hoped he might come, she told him his flight details after all, but now that he was here, she was still massively surprised.

"Dad? Daddy!"

He ran up and wrapped his arms round her, embracing her warmly, enveloping her inside his body.

"Holly, Holly, Holly, my little girl."