Porn Star's Daughter Ch. 10

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

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[Author's Note: This chapter is part of an ongoing saga of a young woman uncovering the mystery of her family's past. This chapter contains major spoilers for those who have not read earlier chapters. If continuity is important to you, it's highly recommended that you read the earlier chapters before this one. Otherwise, please enjoy.]

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Chapter 10 - The Rest of Us

Usually when my father brought me home, he simply dropped me off. This time, however, he got out of the car and escorted me to the front door. I was surprised, but said nothing. I just enjoyed being able to spend some extra few moments with him.

I opened the door, and stepped in. My mother entered the living room in front of us, carrying her purse and dressed to go out.

"Shannon?" my mother said, entering the living room. "Everything ok? I wasn't expecting you until -"

She stopped short after she saw my father, and her initial reaction turned more professional.

Stiffening, but remaining polite, she said, "Hello, Rod."

"Hello, Michelle," my father replied. "May I come in?"

My mother cocked her head to the side, took a deep breath, and nodded. He entered and closed the door behind him.

Turning to me, he said, "Shannon, why don't you go unpack. I have some things I need to talk with your mother about. I won't leave without saying goodbye, I promise."

I wasn't sure what was going on, because my parents rarely spoke in confidence. Nevertheless, I appreciated the opportunity to unpack my "things" in my room without fear of my mother coming in to ask me how my weekend went and finding a shocking discovery.

Inside my room, I began to unpack and search for a place to hide my new silicone lover. As my eyes swept across possible hiding spots, I nearly gasped out loud as I saw the VCR. Like an incriminating smoking gun, the readout on the screen wasn't flashing 12:00, but rather -00:15.

That's a strange number, I thought. What -?

My stomach leapt into my throat as I realized that I had left the tape in the VCR!

My mother, the snoop, could have easily come into my room and seen the VCR and played it. I wracked my brains trying to remember what the time code was before I left. That felt like it wasn't the right time, but could she have watched any of it?

Nothing in the room seemed disturbed. My bed was still unmade, the remote was still where I had left it. Maybe she hadn't had enough time, or maybe she had decided not to be "helpful." After all, I'd only been gone for a little over a day.

That thought gave me another jolt. One day. In one day, twenty-four hours, my entire world had changed. I had been a voyeur, lost my virginity - to a woman, no less - and masturbated to my father's substitute cock... twice.

The room looked the same, and yet different. It felt like I was coming back to it after months of being away, not hours.

"What!?" I heard my mother's voice, shaking me back to the present. I was about to rush out of the room when I realized I was holding the dildo. I opened one of the lower drawers in my dresser and shoved it inside, and entered the hallway to peer out at my parents behind a corner.

My father was talking in hushed tones, trying to get my mother to calm herself, but it wasn't working.

"How could you?" she seethed. Her beautiful face was contorted in anguish and fear.

His voice was tense and insistent, but barely above a whisper. "I had no idea!" he protested, his hands up in a placating gesture. I couldn't understand what he said after that, but it looked like he had even more bad news.

My mother began pacing. "If she -" she said, and then my father shushed her, and her voice dropped below audible levels.

The remainder of their conversation was impossible to hear, but it was obvious that whatever it was, was very important. I tried my luck a little more, hoping to catch more of the conversation, but they had learned their lesson and were no longer audible.

I snuck back to my room, and closed the door behind me. With my parents preoccupied, I had the ability to try to sort out my illicit materials. I looked at the VCR and argued with myself about whether or not to sleuth the mystery there. The debate lasted only a few seconds; I decided to risk getting caught, just in order to get peace of mind. I had to know.

I turned on the TV, muted the volume, and picked up the remote and hit play. The VCR clicked and whirred, and then finally a flickered image flashed upon the screen and stabilized. To my horror, the video wasn't in the same place as when I had left it. Instead, I was treated to a black screen of nothingness.

"Shanny," my mother said, opening the door.

I squeaked, and jumped. In my fright, I hit the "pause" button and the screen semi-froze in a zig-zag, shaking still of the video. By some grace and sheer, dumb luck, the video was locked on the pre-content leader and there was no actual porn being shown.

My mother stopped mid-sentence, glanced at the screen, and then looked at me. I don't think she even registered anything that she saw. Her eyes looked red and tired. Her mascara was still intact so she hadn't been crying, but it looked like it might be an inevitability.

"Your father is leaving," she said, and left the room.

I looked from where she had been standing to the video, and back again. I hit "stop" on the remote, turned off the TV, and went out to the living room where my father was spinning his keys.

When he saw me, he gave a wistful smile. "Howdy, Cupcake" he said.

"Howdy, Doody," I replied, and gave him a hug.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I really wanted to spend the entire day with you."

"Me too," I said, and realized I meant it. I squeezed him a little tighter, and an unfamiliar feeling of loss began to spread through me as I began to let go. Holding him, feeling his masculine strength bring me in close, gave me an unexpected feeling of comfort and warmth. All of my life, I had been okay with just hanging out and being pals, so I wasn't prepared for this additional burden of emotion.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," he said, and kissed me on top of my head.

I let go of him. "I'll call you later, Michelle," he said.

She nodded. "You better," she replied. She sounded sad and deflated.

He waved, and then he was gone. I looked from the closed door to my mother, and gave her a questioning look.

She swallowed, and for a moment I thought she was going to tell me about their discussion. Instead, she said, "I wasn't expecting you back until tonight. I'm afraid I've got some errands to run."

She gathered up her purse and then paused, thinking for a moment. "Do you want to come with me?" she asked, somewhat nervously. It was obvious that she didn't actually want me to go.

"No, thanks," I said, sparing her. The last thing I needed was to spend the entire day worried about whether my mother knew what was in the VCR. "I stayed up pretty late last night, and really could use a nap."

She let out a breath, relieved. "Okay," she said. "Well, you guys caught me just as I was leaving, so I'll see you in a few hours." With that, she grabbed her keys and left the house, leaving me to my own thoughts.

The door barely had time to shut when I raced back to my room. Now that I had the house to myself, I could find out if she had seen the tape. Was that why she was nervous? Or did it have something to do with what Dad had told her?

My heart was pounding as I found the remote and pressed play. Sure enough, the tape began to play from the beginning, with all the pronouncements that all the actors were over 18, etc. My mouth went dry and it became difficult to swallow. My hands were shaking so much that I nearly dropped the remote.

She had seen it. She must have!

I sat on the bed, feeling crushed. I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to face her when she got back from her errands. What could I say? What would she say? How could I possibly explain this?

I don't know how long I had been lost in my thoughts, but then I heard the female announcer's voice, "Which one of them can take... Rod Rocket!?"

I looked up at that point, and for some reason that I can't explain, I instinctively paused the video. Vaguely, I recall pausing it here before, with my father's naked, semi-erect form slightly shaking from the video tape's inaccurate pausing mechanism. This time, however, everything felt different.

It had been less than a week since this entire travesty had begun, but looking at the still image on the screen it felt like another lifetime. I felt like I had grown, evolved somehow, in a very short period of time.

This had been the first time I saw my father's cock in all its glory. This image, right here on the video. I remember my surprise, how large it looked. That was before the dildo, before last night. As I looked at the porno right now, though, the image didn't seem to do my father justice.

I had seen his dick, wet, lubricated, and fucking Redd in real life. I had taken the life-size replica of it into my womb, had felt the immensity of it. What I saw on the screen now didn't look right. It looked smaller and less impressive now.

It made no sense.

I remembered there was an interview with him later on, and I felt a curiosity of a different sort. I wanted to look at his face - his much younger face - and I needed to do it right now.

Fast forwarding to the interview, where the woman asked him if he was ready. I paused the tape once more, and it froze upon his goofy grin. I looked at him in a new light, with new-found experience and the hangover of our conversation in the car.

For some reason, the VCR paused the tape and it was completely still and crystal clear. The closeup of his face was perfectly framed, and I could look at him - I mean really look at him - with no distortion.

I tried to detach myself, emotionally. How would I react to him if I was there at the time - not as his daughter, but as a woman? What if I was some random person watching this porno, someone not related to him. What would I think?

He couldn't have been much older than I was. Maybe three, four years older? In the passing of time, he hadn't changed much - at least not physically. He still had that blonde hair, though it was a little longer in the video, and he had kept his build. All of this I had already known and realized.

What I hadn't realized, though, was just how naive and innocent and sweet he looked. There was something about him, standing there, something vulnerable. Maybe it was a trick of the video, maybe not. I fast forwarded to the moment where he dropped his robe in front of that stupid, idiot brunette bitch (yes, I still held a grudge against her), and paused the video again.

Like the girl in the video, I had been riveted on his massive cock. Now, however, I looked at his face.

My eyes are up here! a joking voice interrupted my thoughts.

I hadn't realized it before, mostly because I had been fixated on what was between his legs, but his eyes told a completely different story. He held a smile, but they didn't really reach his eyes. I began to wonder if he actually wanted to be there.

It suddenly occurred to me that I had always assumed that men loved porn, and always fantasized about being in porn. My father, for sure, was absolutely built for porn. It never dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, some men didn't want that kind of attention.

I shook my head at the thought. Yeah, right. Like, name a guy who doesn't want a 11 and a half inch monster cock and the chance to fuck a dozen women at a time, whenever he wants?

Puh-lease.

Nevertheless, this is someone I knew, someone I was related to. What's more, I had just seen him five minutes ago.

As I continued to look at the screen, though, I began to wonder about just how much I actually knew about my father. Up until a week or so ago, I only thought of him as a "construction worker," someone who never really had much of anything interesting to say, someone who didn't really rock the boat.

The very existence of this video proved that I knew next-to-nothing about my father. He had had a secret life, hidden away for years. There was something here, something in this video, that could reveal a part of him that I'd never known. Seeing my father in this light of being a porn star was new, but I could feel that there was something more.

I took a renewed interest in the video, suddenly no longer thinking about whether or not my mother had seen it. I'd deal with that later. At the moment, it seemed far more important to search for clues in the past on this tape. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I became convinced that it was there. Somewhere.

I fast-forwarded through the bitchy brunette until I got to Tracy's part of the tape. As the familiar footage played out in front of me, it felt like there was a completely new subtext. Instead of watching the sex, I paid far closer attention to their faces and the way they interacted.

After everything that happened the night before, this was almost like some sort of do-over for me. It was as if I had watched some science fiction movie with a twist at the end, but upon rewatching there were all these clues that I had missed the first time around.

Initially, the first time I watched the tape, it looked like they had been pretty good actors before. Their banter was playful, and their chemistry seemed realistic.

Wait. Their chemistry seemed realistic... because it was.

I sat bolt upright as the realization dawned on me. This wasn't acting, and it wasn't the first time they had met! In the back of my head, I guess I had made the assumption that they met on this porn shoot, just one coupling like every other - that they were just actors on a stage, doing a job. Just like every other girl in the movie.

As I watched him look at her take him in her mouth, though, it was clear that this hadn't been the first time they were together. I rewound the video a little to the beginning of their scene. Sure enough, when "Redd" first pulled him out of his robe, there was no shock, no surprise.

She already knew what she was getting, I thought to myself.

This epiphany changed everything for me. She looked at him with more intensity than just lust. Sure, that was there, but she looked at him the same way as she did the night before. He was hers, and not just in a sexual sense. Now that I was paying attention to his face, rather than his cock, I could see that it wasn't just that he was impressed, but that he was...

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth in shock.

He was in love.

My father and I may not have been close, but if there's one thing that I did know about him it was that he was not that good of an actor!

I had completely missed it the first time around.

"... cream pie, of course," she was saying as she placed him at her pussy. Suddenly I was back, hiding behind the bannister, watching the two of them fucking from my voyeuristic perch at the top of the stairs. I had watched him fuck her so hard that he lifted her off her feet completely, rag-dolling her through multiple orgasms.

In comparison to that, this was slow, tender love-making. Tracy's nipples stuck straight out, but she made no move to touch them. Instead, she rested her hands on his chest in order to keep her body from falling too far onto his shaft.

I don't want to go to the hospital, she had said. I watched her now on the tape, gingerly keeping herself high enough so that he couldn't penetrate her too deeply. I wondered if he had sent her to the ER before this moment. She certainly guided him with an experienced hand.

His grunts zeroed my attention once more, and I remembered he would be coming soon. The first time I watched the video, I had focused on his throbbing, pulsing cock as he emptied himself into her womb. Now, though, I forced myself to watch their faces. As much as I wanted to watch that cock pump and pulse, I needed to get my answers even more.

If I hadn't been so horny the first time around, so obsessed with my fantasy of what she must have felt with him shooting inside her, I would have been ashamed at what I had missed. There was no mistaking it. There was no acting here. Tracy's expression was calm, soft, and she held a breathtaking smile across her face. She practically glowed. There was a beat, and then both of them broke out in laughter just as the image faded to black.

I paused the video. I was still horny as fuck, but I needed to get my head wrapped around what I had just seen. I didn't know how to process what had just been revealed to me.

Okay, so, wait. Wait. Wait! What!?

I tried to understand the ramifications. If my father and Tracy had been dating before the video was shot, why would she let him star in a porn video at all? Why would she let him have sex with ten other women in the first place, much less take part in the video, herself?

Tracy isn't really the jealous type, he had said.

Well, okay, but if that's true, then why was she sending me all of those signals about how he was hers?

Remember, he's mine, she had said.

And if that was true, what happened after they shot the porno? Why did they break up? How was it my father's fault? What could have been so bad - if shooting a porno with several other women wasn't the cause - that made them split up?

It made no sense to me.

The slightly shaking paused video got my attention. At the moment, it was the only clue I had to what might have happened, now that I knew there was more going on behind the scenes than I had first thought.

Swallowing, and knowing what was coming next, I clicked the play button on the remote. Sure enough, Simone's doppelgänger appeared, and I immediately hit the fast-forward button. I felt some mild amusement as the video raced through her ultra-fast spanking and anal sex, until he finally pulled out and sprayed her back and ass with comically fast eruptions.

I let the video continue at its breakneck speed up through the introduction of Punk Girl and up through the moment where he was sucking on her nipples. Suddenly, I realized I didn't want to miss this, and rewound the video to the beginning of that part, and began to fondle my tits as the tape began to play at its normal speed.

What about the clues?

They'll still be there.

Don't you want to know? Don't you want to get answers?

Yes, yes. Right after this. I need this.

I knew that fact more than I knew my own name. There was truth on the screen that I needed to see. Even though I had seen this before, and Tracy had shared her own fascination with my nipples, I still couldn't quite believe that anyone would get so worked up about a flat chest. Correction: my flat chest.

Yet, here we were. My father's enthusiasm for Punk Girl's nipples was egged on by her reaction, I'm sure, and he looked like could have spent hours happily playing with her chest. I imagined some boy fascinated with my nipples, completely absorbed in sucking them until I got tired of his attention.

For her part, she loved his cock. No, wait. Tracy loved his cock. Punk Girl worshipped it. I've heard about people being objectified, but in this case it was hard to escape the true objectification of his dick by this tiny girl with the raucous attitude.