'Becca's Red Ribbon

"Get dressed outside, you cunt," Jeremy said. "I want you gone. Now."

He waited on the front step, the flagstones cold beneath his socks until Nathan's BMW went through the open gates. Then Jeremy used the fob to secure the gates once the car was clear and away down the road beyond. After that, he turned and went into the house, with no clue as to what explanation he could give Rebecca coming to mind.

***

She was still in her bedroom. Body covered by a thick towelling robe. She sat on the foot of her bed and looked at her father, brow creased in question.

"What are you doing back?" she asked, an eyebrow arched. "And what did you think you were doing being so violent with Nathan. He wasn't really a problem, dad. He just scared me for a couple of seconds."

"It sounded like he was going to do it to me. I thought he was going to hit you. When you screamed..."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed, expression full of suspicion.

She asked, "What were you doing out there in the hall?" Then her face registered the dawning realisation. "Oh, God, how long were you out there. Did you listen to...? Did you see...? Shit, dad, why are you here? Why aren't you on the way to the airport?"

There were excuses he could have made. A hundred reasons for his return: cancelled meeting; cancelled flight; car trouble; a blocked road; fire or flood or an earthquake had swallowed the airport whole. Jeremy, a clever, intelligent fellow, should have been able to think of something to say.

"I wanted to make sure you were all right, with him," he finally said.

"Oh, daddy," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said, slumping onto the bed next to his daughter.

He was still wearing the big padded jacket and he was getting warm from a combination of the thermal effects of the coat, his recent physical stress, and his daughter's proximity. Jeremy unzipped the jacket and shrugged it off, his mind filled with what he'd heard. Two men at the same time? Their cum inside her?

When Jeremy took off his jacket, Rebecca slid closer and put an arm around his waist.

"You don't have to protect me all the time," she said on another sigh. "I'm twenty, dad. I'm not a little girl."

"You always will be to me," he said, the illicit desires rising inside him again.

Jeremy's arm went around her shoulder. He kissed the top of her head when Rebecca snuggled in closer, her low exhale sending a surge of carnal yearning through his core.

"How long were you there?" Rebecca asked, her cheek against her father's chest.

"A couple of seconds," he lied.

She didn't move. Rebecca didn't lift her head and look at him. She kept her face pressed against him and said, "Really? Just a couple of seconds? You ... You didn't hear anything else? Just the two of us shouting?"

"I ... I was out in the hall."

She still didn't move. Just spoke into his shirt.

"What does that mean?"

"I didn't hear anything else," Jeremy said.

Rebecca pushed away from him and confronted her father with her eyes.

"There's something off about the way you're saying that, dad," she said. "You did hear, didn't you? That's why you sound so ... defensive. You're making too much of it by saying you didn't hear anything, which means you did hear something." Rebecca paused and stared into Jeremy's face. Then she blinked, expression aghast, a hand going up to her mouth. "Oh my, God," she gasped, aghast as spooled back and the recollectons filtered through.

Jeremy saw the rush of colour rise in her cheeks. Rebecca's blush went from the V of the robe at her neck and crawled right up into her hair. She gawped at her father, eyes wide with humiliation when she realised he'd heard her crude revelations.

Jeremy swallowed down hard against the sudden urge to kiss his daughter's mouth. Instead, he sucked in a breath and closed his eyes to block out her face.

"Sweetheart, it doesn't matter," he croaked. "I ... I still love you."

"That doesn't matter," Rebecca put in.

Jeremy's eyes opened and he stared at his daughter as she slowly shook her from side-to-side, her stare on his face.

She said, "It's so embarrassing to know you know about ... About ... Oh, God, dad, you must think I'm a slut. And after the fuss I made when you objected to my skirt ... I don't know why I did it, dad," Rebecca continued, the heat still in her face. "I don't know why I let them both do it to me."

Jeremy turned to face his daughter, swivelling at the waist so he could place both hands on her shoulders.

Expression intent, his stare holding hers, Jeremy said, "Don't get all worked up, 'Becca. It's just lust. You got carried away. It happens." He rolled his eyes and grimaced as he went on to add, "And I bet Nathan had to do some talking to get you to do it."

Rebecca's throat worked while she gazed at her father. Then her eyes dropped to her lap, her lower lip between her teeth.

"Not really," she said on a whisper. "I was pretty keen to give it a try." Then she groaned again and went on to say, "And I don't believe you came home and caught me that way tonight. Shit," she hissed. "I just want to die."

"You listen to me," Jeremy said, stern. "You haven't done anything wrong," he added when his daughter's frightened face swivelled up. "You're a young woman ... A very, very pretty, attractive girl who gets a lot of attention. You've got a healthy libido. You enjoy the sex. It's fun and exciting."

"Dad?" Rebecca put in, doubt in her expression. "I ... I don't think you should talk about things like that with me. It doesn't sound right coming from you."

On a surge of need, Jeremy blinked and went on with, "But you are an attractive girl, 'Becca. Men look at you and they go a bit crazy. You're so beautiful, darling. Your hair, your body, your legs..."

The furrows on Rebecca's forehead deepened. She stared at her father, concern in her eyes.

"Dad," she whispered. "I ... I think you should stop."

The effect of Rebecca's words percolated into Jeremy's brain. He shut up, realising he was being inappropriate and causing his daughter more anguish. It cost him a great effort to do it, but he shoved away from her, putting some space between them, guilt and shame dribbling into his stomach when he thought about what he'd done. Jeremy wondered at what kind of man he'd become. He'd been stalking his daughter -- and how twisted was that? He'd made a plan in the hope of seeing her fucking her boyfriend. Jeremy had been wild with arousal at the thought of seeing his sweet girl taking a cock. And hadn't his nasty, perverted prayers been answered. The way it had played out it could have been scripted. The sofa facing the window, them up in her room, fucking standing up, their bodies in profile. But what kind of degenerate wants that to happen? How sick and twisted had he become over the past couple of years?

"Oh, shit, 'Becca," he groaned. "I ... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you."

Rebecca stared at her father for several long moments. She gazed into his face, her look giving Jeremy the impression she was turning things over inside her head. It couldn't have been more than a second or two or three, but the time seemed to stretch between them as Jeremy looked at his daughter. Eventually, Rebecca blinked a couple of times. She sucked in a breath and let it out again, cheeks ballooning.

"Wow," she said. "It's been an intense couple of minutes." Rebecca cut a glance towards the open door and to the hallway beyond. "It's been crazy," she added, her focus returning to her father. "I'm a bit scatty from it all, dad. Why don't we go downstairs and get a drink of water or something?"

Jeremy experienced a flash of anxiety when Rebecca got up off the bed.

"I'll go and get you a glass," he said, panic rising within.

Jeremy went up to his feet. He was desperate for Rebecca to stay in her room. The last thing he needed was for her to notice the muck on the door.

"No," Rebecca insisted. "I want to get out of here. I want a change of scene. Try to process what's happened."

He thought about grabbing his daughter; but what could he say if he did? Jeremy watched in horror as Rebecca moved towards the hall, the fear squeezing his innards. He held his breath, willing her to walk straight past. If she did, he thought, he could make some hurried repairs, try to fix the problem by using a damp towel or face-cloth to wipe up the mess. It might be a quick-fix at best, but at least it wouldn't be semen she'd see.

Jeremy watched, his throat clogged with near-panic, the relief making him gasp as he let out the breath he'd been holding inside when Rebecca moved out of sight.

"Jesus," Jeremy said on a groan.

And he was just on his way to the bathroom for a towel when Rebecca appeared again.

"What's that?" she asked, puzzled.

"What's what?" Jeremy said in reply, dread swelling quick and huge. He tried to get in front of his daughter to block her view, but Rebecca was already leaning in from the waist, her face getting closer to the stain on the paint.

"It's wet," she said after dabbing a finger into the dribble. The stuff had slid down the door in half-a-dozen drips, like runny paint down a canvas. "What the hell is it?" Rebecca asked, frowning at her finger. She sniffed and pulled a face. "I don't get it," she added, looking up to the ceiling. "There's no leak or anything."

"I'll clean it up. You go down and get that glass of water," Jeremy said, hoping she wouldn't make the connection. "I'll come down in a sec," he finished.

But by then she was looking at him, her face changing from puzzled to something else.

"Shit, I know what that is," Rebecca said with a squeak. "You!" she cried. "God, dad, it's you!"

***

"You said you'd come back because you wanted to make sure I was okay with Nathan."

Jeremy nodded.

"Yes," he said.

Rebecca placed the long-stemmed glass onto the table. They were in the kitchen, her father sitting in one of the ladder-backed chairs, the whisky tumbler in front of him as he stared down at the grain in the oak table-top.

"So why is that stuff on my door? Why did you do that, dad?"

Jeremy's throat went tight. He shook his head, unable to answer. He couldn't possibly tell her.

There was silence between father and daughter for over a minute until Rebecca sat down and took a deep gulp of red wine.

"I know you've been looking," she said. "I've seen you, dad."

The revelation rocked her father. Jeremy gawped and said nothing, the shock of slowly wearing off.

Finally, he managed to croak, "What do you want me to say?" His face was filled with anguish as she added, "I'm sorry? I'm a pervert? God, Rebecca," he gasped, shaking his head. "I've tried to stop. I promise I have. I've been telling myself over and over, but I can't make myself do it."

"You've been on your own for a long time now," Rebecca softly put in. "And you've always been over-protective. Maybe you're just getting confused feelings because you're lonely and I'm a grown-up now? Maybe you're just struggling to let me go?"

Love for her ballooned in his chest. Grateful for her being so calm, Jeremy stared at Rebecca and said, "How can you be so understanding, Rebecca?"

She shrugged and said, "I love you. You've been a wonderful father."

He blurted a laugh and said, "Yeah, but ... Jesus, 'Becca, the things I've been thinking..."

"I do it, too," she said, eyes on the table. "It isn't just you."

Jeremy sat there and gawked at his daughter. He boggled, his brain refusing to believe he'd actually heard it.

"What?" he said after a gasp. "What do you mean?"

Rebecca's eyes stayed fixed to the wood for a few moments while she gathered herself. Then she sucked in air through her nose. She gulped and brought her attention up to his face. Swallowed more wine.

"I think things, too, dad. When I see you looking..." Rebecca paused and gave a half shrug. "I think about you. I daydream a little."

For Jeremy, reality slewed. His world juddered. Stuttered at little. Time slowed and felt all stretchy. He found he was quite clear in his head, his thoughts were lucid and quick but seemed to come from some faraway place. He understood what Rebecca had said, could divine her meaning yet couldn't make the jigsaw piece fit into his picture of the world. It was strange because what his daughter had told him made sense on one hand but not on the other.

"No, you don't. Surely you don't, Rebecca? You can't."

She pulled a face. Rebecca drew back a couple of inches, a moue of puzzlement pursing her lips.

"Why can't I, dad?" There was an edge to her tone. Jeremy sensed the steel inside his daughter when she went on to add, "So what? You think about me but it can't possibly work the other way round? You do know I'm a woman now? I have sex and I have fantasies and all of that grown-up stuff, too, you know. Maybe it gives me a buzz to daydream about doing things with you. You're a good-looking man. I've seen your body..."

Then Jeremy experienced the slide of his taboo desires as he watched her face and saw Rebecca's expression shift into something sly. His daughter smirked, eyes feline.

"Maybe I've played with myself, too, daddy," she breathed.

The timbre in her voice and the look in her face clogged Jeremy's throat with his need. He glanced at the V where her robe opened up just below her throat. His mind went back to what he'd seen her doing with Nathan. Jeremy heard his daughter moaning about the boy's big cock.

"Jesus," he gurgled before sighing her name.

"So tell me, dad," Rebecca urged, her tone low and hypnotic. "Why did you do that outside my room? Were you watching us or something? Did it get you off to see us together?"

In a pivotal moment, with his reality still wobbly, Jeremy felt himself being sucked in by his daughter's eyes. His world shrank until all he could see were the green irises below her horizontal fringe, her hair so black it shimmered with the same iridescence as a raven's feather, her expression imploring. In those few seconds he felt compelled to reveal it all to his daughter, to purge himself of the guilt and shame and anguish. It would be sweet to let all that weight go.

Jeremy's confession began with a single word.

"Yes," he croaked.

***

When he began, he couldn't stop the outrush of words.

"You liked watching?" his daughter asked in the same soft voice.

"It's because you're beautiful, 'Becca," Jeremy mumbled. "I parked the car at the Elm Tree pub and got a taxi back. I wanted to see what you got up to with him. I watched you from outside when you were in the living room. It ... It was incredible," he said on a moan. "I saw you kissing. I saw you..." He paused and gulped and drained off the whisky. Jeremy spluttered and coughed as the spirit burned its way down. Then he went on to say, "I watched you sucking Nathan. Oh, baby," he sighed, "I can't describe how I felt."

Rebecca's mouth hung open for a few seconds longer.

Then she asked, "You snuck around outside?"

"Yes," Jeremy breathed.

"You...? Let me get this straight ... You wanted to catch us? You wanted to watch?"

"Yes, 'Becca. I did. I'm sorry," Jeremy said with a shrug. "But that's how it was."

"Dad, that's so fucking wrong."

As the concern expanded inside him, Jeremy was quick to say: "'Becca, I'm sorry. I ... I know it's wrong. I just couldn't stop it. I tried, baby," he babbled. "You don't know how hard I've struggled with this. It wasn't something on the spur-of-the-moment. I've been torn apart by feeling this way."

"Hey, daddy, stop," Rebecca put in. She held up a hand. "You've got it wrong. I'm not angry or disgusted when I say that. I think it's so bloody pervy it's more of a turn on than anything else."

"You can't possibly mean that," Jeremy said after boggling at her.

"I do," Rebecca replied. "It doesn't matter," she added, gazing at her father. "It's nobody's business but ours. I don't care what anyone says or thinks..." Rebecca looked around the kitchen and returned her stare to his face. "This is where we live, dad. Inside these walls, what's said and done in here is nobody else's business."

Jeremy gawked some more before licking dry lips and stammering, "Buh-but I spied on you, 'Becca. How can you be so cool and take that?"

She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh before answering with, "For an intelligent bloke, you're a bit dense, dad. Maybe it's a generational thing? Maybe I've been exposed to a lot of stuff over the internet? I don't know," Rebecca continued. "But I can kind of understand it all, dad. I know what it's like to be so horny you do crazy things." Her eyes slid away from her father's face as she finished with, "You heard me talking about Nathan and Aaron, didn't you? And you know I had them both at the same time?"

Jealousy rose in a breath-taking rush. Jeremy felt the acid rise up into his throat and he had to gulp it back down.

"Yes," he said, almost choked by the word. "You know I heard it all."

"I can't believe I let them do it to me without a condom between them. But, that's afterwards, dad. At the time I was so hot I didn't care if I got pregnant from it. I knew it was a risk, but it didn't matter. Oh yeah, I shit myself afterwards. But, at the time..."Rebecca shrugged and shook her head and finished by saying, "So I know how it must have been for you. That's why I understand."

"Thuh-there's more to it, 'Becca."

She looked surprised when she heard her father groan the words. Rebecca squirmed in her chair, like she had an itch between her legs, the tone of his voice setting her pussy alight.

"Oh, God, daddy," she muttered. "Tell me."

"It's bad, baby," he said.

She gulped and said, "I don't care how bad it is. Just tell me."

Jeremy pushed back from the table, the chair legs scraping over the tiles. Rebecca flinched at the sudden movement, her eyes on her father as he went to the counter and picked up the whisky bottle.

He didn't look at his daughter as he returned to the table and poured a generous measure into the tumbler.

"I'm bisexual," Jeremy said, his tone flat and neutral. Like he was commenting on the weather, Jeremy added, "Seeing his size ... Seeing you sucking him, 'Becca ... That was so exciting to me."

Rebecca groaned out her response: "Oh, Jesus, dad. God, stop it, don't say another word."

Jeremy looked at his daughter, quickly turning to regard her as he sat down at the table, her face slack and her mouth hanging open. Rebecca's eyes were glazed as she gawped at her father and he blurted out yet another apology.

"I'm sorry," Jeremy said, gurgling it up. "I didn't mean to--"

"No, Jesus, dad," his daughter cut in. "You always get it wrong. I'm not telling you to stop because I think it's filthy-perverted. Although I do," she said on a quick chuckle. "I'm really having a hard time listening to it because it's getting me hot. Oh, God, dad," Rebecca breathed. "I'm horny, daddy. Nathan came and ... Well, you know that already ... And now this...? I'm getting more and more turned on. I'm going mental."

Jeremy knew she was going to do it before the sly, clandestine expression moulded itself to his daughter's face. He was instantly hard, part of his brain screaming at him to put a stop to it right away. Jeremy could see it happening in his mind's-eye. In the long silence which followed, he pictured Rebecca getting out of her chair. She was looking at him through eyes he'd never seen before. He recognised the girl, but hadn't experienced his own daughter's lust-filled expression as she gazed at him with a mix of adoration and carnal intent. He imagined the robe slipping over her shoulders. Saw the lightly tanned skin, her little tits pale where her bikini top had covered her body. Then he saw her tight waist and narrow hips, the curve of her buttocks when the robe fell and she moved around the table.