Behind the Black Door

"And do what?"

"I'm going to be the next head of the International Monetary Fund."

"Christ! Why would you want to do that?"

"Who's the current head of the IMF?"

"God knows."

"Well, there's your answer. No one cares or is remotely interested in the head of the IMF. Well, most people don't care. I will disappear from the front of the British papers. Hannah and I can live anonymously, or near enough, in Washington. We won't be able to live openly as a couple, but it will be a lot easier."

"Yeah, I suppose so. If you're certain it's the right thing to do?"

"I am. There's one other thing."

"Christ, what now?"

"Hannah's pregnant."

"Fuck..."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I said."

"How far along is she?"

"Three months. It must've happened round about the time we first met. We've just had the first scan. Everything seems to be fine."

"Fuck...congratulations."

"Thank you. You see why time is of the essence? We want to get out before she shows too much. We won't be able to keep it a secret forever, and although no one's likely to guess who the father is, I'd prefer to be out of Downing Street before the news breaks."

"A dad again, at your age? Jesus."

"Yeah, I know."

Both men took a sip of their drinks. Henry looked off into the mid distance for a second or two, and then turned his attention to Al once more.

"I don't think I've ever really thanked you, you know."

"For what?"

"For what you did. For protecting us. Protecting me and Hannah. You could've published the story. It would've been the biggest scoop of all time, I imagine."

"Yeah, probably. But I couldn't do it. Even if nothing had happened between me and Siobhan,

I still - probably - wouldn't have gone for it. How can it be a crime, when you're not hurting anyone? How can it be wrong, when it feels so right?"

"Exactly."

"Besides, sometimes you just have take one for the team."

"And we're a team?"

"In a way." Al said. "A really weird, fucked up way. And if you want to pay me back, you can give me an exclusive on the pregnancy."

"It's a deal."

By now, Henry and Hannah's happy news had been shared with another member of the Scanlon family. Hannah was sat on a cushioned bench, in the archway of the giant window where her conversation with Siobhan had been taking place. The younger woman was sat next to her, her head resting on her shoulder, her hand gently stroking Hannah's belly.

"You're not going to feel it kick, you know." Hannah said. "It's only about the size of a plum."

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"No. I don't know if I want to know, to be honest."

"Are you scared?"

"Terrified. But excited too. I've always known that I wanted to have his baby, right from the first time we slept together. The thought of him impregnating me, his own daughter, is kind of a big turn on, to be honest."

Siobhan felt her entire body shiver a little in excitement. Yes, she understood exactly what she meant.

"I didn't think it would so happen so soon," Hannah continued. "This wasn't planned. But now it is happening, we just want to make the most of it. I keep imagining myself when I'm heavily pregnant and my belly is huge and he's looking after me."

"Your father?"

"My man."

"Yes, I can see why that idea appeals to you."

The two young women looked at each other intently for a second or two, a world of understanding and recognition passing between them. A world of possibilities and lives not yet lived and lives that would never be lived. Changes and traumas. Dreams and desires. For a second, it looked like they were about to kiss.

But then, just like that, the moment passed.

"I'm famished." Hannah stated. "I think our meal should be ready soon. Shall we go find them?"

"Our fathers?"

"Our men."

Hannah stood up and held out her hand. Siobhan took it and stood up herself.

"We could swap, you know?" Hannah said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Swap? Swap what?"

"Our fathers. Tonight. You could fuck my dad and I could fuck your's?"

"Seriously?" Siobhan squeaked.

"Naah, I'm joking." Hannah said, barely able to suppress a giggle. "The look on your face! You're definitely his type though. He loves redheads with big tits."

Hand in hand, the two young women walked together along the corridor, laughing like a couple of naughty schoolgirls, heading to the main living room, where the flickering orange glow of the fire guided them like a beacon in the dark.

There was no swapping that night, and Al and Siobhan slept in one of the palatial guest rooms, making love in a bed that had played host to foreign leaders, princes and potentates. The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, they left; both couples wishing the other all the best, before returning once more to their respective lives.

Siobhan didn't wait until her father's birthday, to offer up her last remaining virgin hole. A week or so later, upon her suggestion, Al fucked her up the arse for the first time. She was lying on her front, a couple of pillows under her waist, the KY Jelly glistening in the subdued light of their bedroom. She was nervous, apprehensive, but tremendously excited. Just like her dear friend had promised, it was a wonderful, intense experience; but Siobhan did feel a little tender the next day.

She and Al settled into a comfortable domestic situation. Technically, Siobhan lived with her mother and stepfather, but she spent most of her time now at her dad's place. And she spent a not inconsiderable amount of that time in bed with him. Once the incestuous genie was out of its bottle, there was no putting it back. The two lovers were absolutely insatiable. They were fucking and fucking and fucking all the time. The flat had to be constantly aired out, so powerful was the pungent smell of their lovemaking.

Al occasionally felt a pang of guilt, along with a dash of regret, about what they were doing. He loved his daughter very much, and he certainly loved sleeping with her as well. But he knew she was making terrible sacrifices to continue their relationship. She was young, she was vibrant; there was surely no future in what they were doing?

But then he would catch himself looking at her, studying her face as she watched television or swiped through messages on her phone. God, she's so pretty, he'd think to himself. Then, she might look up at him and smile. Her entire face lighting up, bathing him in warmth and joy. And all doubts slipped away in an instant. She had captured his heart, entirely and completely. She had done so when she was a baby. Now she had recaptured it, in a very different way, as a young woman.

For Siobhan, there were no regrets. None at all. She was deeply in love, and couldn't imagine any other life than the one she had. She was closer now to her father than she had ever been. She was happier than she had ever been. She was more sexually satisfied than she had ever been.

And she just couldn't get the idea of Hannah being pregnant out of her mind. Just the very thought of it. So bold. So audacious. So outrageous. To be carrying her own father's baby? It disturbed her. It confused her. It excited her. She would be lying there, her legs spread, Al on top of her, pounding away; and she would fantasise about what might happen next. All it would take is one little accident, and her life would be transformed.

But she was so young and her father was, to be brutally frank, so old. Al was closer to sixty than fifty. The age gap between them was far larger than the one that existed between Henry and Hannah. Al looked a lot more youthful than his years, and was in pretty good shape. And there was certainly no questions marks over his sexual stamina, but what might it be like in a few years time?

And yet, and yet, and yet...

The love between them was real and profound. And Siobhan was convinced that they would survive and thrive together. She would carry his child. She knew that instinctively. One day, and she suspected it would be a lot sooner than later, he would plant his seed inside her, and nature would take its course. They would have a baby together, and they would love that baby together. In the end, nothing else mattered.

For Henry and Hannah, the decision had already been made. There was nothing fantastical or imaginary about her pregnancy. By the time he left office, she had pretty much disappeared from the public eye. No clothes on earth would have been able to disguise the bump if she had been stood next to him, as he made his farewell speech.

There had been plenty of speculation in the press about where she might be, but it was only after the couple moved out of Downing Street that the truth emerged. Al never got his exclusive. A paparazzo caught sight of Hannah, clearly heavily pregnant, walking down the street, not far from Henry's constituency home in Liverpool. The story blew up online. Henry's office issued a statement confirming Hannah was pregnant, but revealed no more details, and urged the media to respect their privacy. It was a big story for a few weeks, with endless speculation as to who the father might be. All sorts of names were put forward, but not one person suggested Henry. Why would they? The idea was so bizarre. So unbelievable.

Eventually, father and daughter moved to the States, so Henry could take up his new job at the IMF, and the matter faded from the headlines. They settled into their new life together with relative ease. In some ways, being the Managing Director of a large, supranational organisation was a lot more comfortable than being a British prime minister. The work was a considerably less arduous and they could spend a great deal more time together.

The baby was due any day now. Hannah was ginormous, although most of the extra weight seemed to have settled on her belly and her tits. They still fucked. A lot. She would settle down on top of him, looking like a giant horny buddha. His dick would be buried inside her, and she would gently rock back and forth. She was lactating now, and her breasts would squirt out little streaks of milk that would splash onto her belly, when her father fondled them. He would suckle at her teat on occasion too. She knew she would have two mouths to feed, once her baby had arrived. A thought that only filled her with joy and anticipation.

It was going to be a boy. They knew that now. A perfectly healthy little boy. She was going to have two men in her life. Two people to care for, in very different ways. How would they explain their situation when their son was old enough to ask the right sort of questions? Would they tell him the truth? Would they reveal the fact that Henry was the boy's grandfather as well as his dad? Or that she had given birth to her own brother?

Those were questions to be answered another day. A day that was still a long way away. And Hannah understood, like Siobhan had understood, that she wasn't alone. She had someone beside her. Someone to rely on. She had her father. Her lover. Her man.

Henry and Hannah Sellers were both conscious of a fundamental truth now. They knew it in their bones. He had been, for a handful of years, an important world leader. Arguably, one of the most powerful men on earth. He had wanted to change things. Make things better. But he had quickly come to understand that there were fierce limits to what he could do in office. There was resistance. Inertia. He could push, try to implement his policies, but the impact was always modest and incremental.

But there was one thing he did manage to achieve before leaving office, apart from getting his daughter pregnant, of course. The last piece of major legislation passed by the Henry Sellers administration was the Criminal Justice and Sexual Offences Act. It mostly concerned itself with prison reform and introducing new measures to try and improve the conviction rates for rape and sexual assault.

Hidden away in the legal text however, was one fairly significant change; namely the complete repeal of the existing incest laws. Consensual sex for anyone over the age of sixteen, even for those who were closely related to one another, was now legal. Brothers and sisters. Mothers and sons. Fathers and daughters.

Henry's Justice Secretary had questioned the decision quite strenuously, worried about potentially damaging headlines, but the Civil Service were strangely relaxed about the whole thing. Henry understood it might cause a bit of a stink, even if no one knew the significance of the law for him personally, but he pushed ahead with it anyway. He thought it was the right thing to do.

And, as a wise and courageous friend had once told him, sometimes you just have to take one for the team.

The End