Shattered Secret

She found the DVD by accident. She hadn't been snooping; she'd been searching for her mother's blue sweater, but her rummaging through the drawers of her parents' bedroom led to an exciting discovery.

Francesca held the plastic case, transfixed by the printed images on the cover. She experienced a tremor of some deep, terrible, taboo in the pit of her stomach, as though a nerve had been touched. She knew about porn of course, although previously it held no interest for her, but the discovery of a secret stash stirred feelings within her and the spark of lust ignited with hot vehemence between her legs. Surprised by the heat in her pussy as it began to melt and throb, Francesca suddenly yearned to touch herself. The expressions of pleasure on the young models' faces captured her imagination and she fantasised over how it feel be to be in their position. How would she feel to be fucked on film and for money?

A few minutes passed and Francesca loaded the disc into her father's computer. The scenes came to life, causing her to groan with frustration at the relentless itch in her sodden pussy. She slid her jeans down and stepped out pf her underwear before settling in the chair. As the film lewdly progressed and her frustration grew unbearable, Francesca lifted her feet to the edge of the desk and spread her legs. Her slick labia pouted and honey sluiced from her opening when she diddled at her clitoris in the first moments of sweet masturbation. The fact that the film belonged to her parents gave the whole situation a furtive, clandestine edge and the forbidden aspect only heightened the girl's sudden feelings. She sighed and gave full reign to the glorious waves of pleasure as she touched herself.

***

Ted parked outside his business partner's house. As expected the place was dark, it looked empty, nobody at home. Derek, his partner was away. Marie, Derek's wife would be working her shift as a nurse at the District Hospital, and Francesca was probably out socialising, as you'd expect her to. Derek had phoned and mentioned a letter he'd left for Ted, it was on his study desk and Ted should call round to collect it. The situation wasn't unusual; Ted held a key to the front door for just such an eventuality. He had collected letters from Derek's house on previous occasions, just as Derek had from his. They had been in business together for nearly thirty years, been friends before that, they trusted each other.

Since the house appeared empty, Ted let himself in. He made his way straight to his partner's study on the ground floor. He noticed nothing untoward in the few moments it took to find his way from the front door to the study, everything in the house appeared normal - Then Ted stepped into the room and saw her.

***

The first inkling Francesca had that something was amiss was when she sensed a presence. It may have been a flicker of a shadow seen from the corner of her eye, the sound of his sharp intake of breath, or maybe a creak of floorboards. No matter, the jolt of seeing a man in the doorway of the study stunned her and her world slewed as her brain struggled to cope with the reality of discovery. Her immediate thought had been, 'Daddy!' Her father had caught her in such a flagrant act of self-abuse. . . Then, the realisation of who the man actually was hit her. She automatically clasped an arm across her breasts while her thighs clamped tight around her wrist, trapping her hand in situ, her fingers still mushed into the wet of her pussy.

"Oh my, God!" she blurted, not even realising she'd spoken, she was so shocked.

"Jesus!" Ted blasphemed. "Francesca. . . I'm. . . Oh shit. . ."

Ted boggled at the girl, his wits unable to assimilate the true nature of what he was seeing. In his mind, he wasn't seeing a beautiful, teenage girl caught in the act of wild, lusty masturbation; he only felt the shock at his blundering upon what was such a personal, private act.

The two stared at each other while the sounds of the cinematic fucking grew louder and more abandoned. The squeals and groans went unheeded as both Francesca and Ted fought to make sense of the scene in which they so abruptly found themselves the main players.

"Francesca," Ted spluttered, still unable to comprehend. "I. . . Oh fuck. . ." His embarrassment flamed. "I'm sorry. . . So sorry."

He turned and fled, there was no other course of action available according to his stunned brain. He slammed the front door to the house on his way out, revved the car engine and sped into the night.

"Shit!" Francesca hissed when the door banged shut. "Shit, shit, shit". He'd caught her, her father's friend. . . "Shit." Her mortification caused her to groan. How could she have been so stupid? Wanking in front of the computer - It was madness - And now? Ted. He'd caught her. Francesca groaned again, "Oh my fucking God." Her eyes closed tight with chagrin. She imagined how she must have looked, legs wide, fingers squelching at her sex, her tee shirt pulled up and her titties all bare. . . "Fuck!" Francesca willed herself away, far away where she would never have to face the man again. Her face burned with the humiliation.

***

Francesca's stomach gave a greasy slide when she heard her father's voice downstairs. It was a moment she had been dreading. If Ted had told her father of the scene he'd stumbled across, Francesca doubted that she could live with the shame of her parents knowing the sordid secret between her and her father's business partner. Her father was her idol and she knew she was the apple of his eye, his only child, his darling daughter. For him to think badly of her, for him to know her dirty, sordid secret - Francesca squirmed at the thought. She waited for the axe to fall.

There was nothing that night. Her father was his usual, loving self towards her, but the girl remained convinced that it was only a matter of time. Perhaps Ted was waiting to see her father in person. The subject was hardly one casually broached over the phone. Yes, that was it, she was sure, Ted would be waiting for a quiet moment to inform her father about her filthy little game.

Three days passed, and then it was a week. Nothing, not a word, every evening she expected the worst, but everything remained the same. Francesca's stomach flipped and her face burned whenever she called to mind the image of Ted standing there, shocked, gape-mouthed, and her, with her body exposed in the most vulnerable way imaginable... Finally, a full three weeks after the incident, just as the shame had begun to wane she came face-to-face with him.

It had proven impossible for her to dodge the event. It was her parents' anniversary, with the inevitable celebrations, Ted included. Francesca had squirmed and fretted, but in the end, there was just no way to avoid him. To her immense relief, he had kept his distance all through the evening, but eventually their paths had crossed.

"Evening, Francesca." His manner was aloof, indifferent. Any embarrassment he felt remained well concealed.

"Hello, Mr Bryant." Francesca's eyes darted, anything rather than look at him. She felt the heat of her blush and cursed inwardly.

Then, he showed the first hint of awkwardness. "Uhm... Francesca?" His voice wavered a little. "Do you think we could...? I mean... I'd like to talk to you - In private."

She looked into his face for the first time that evening. "Please," she murmured, her stomach turned. "I don't want to talk about..." She faltered, struggling to find her voice, "...it," she finished. "I don't want to talk about that night."

She went to move away but he reached and clasped her arm. "Please, Francesca," he whispered urgently. "We can't leave it like this. It's so damned awkward."

"Mr Bryant, please." The well of quick, hot tears surprised her. "I'm just so embarrassed."

"I understand," Ted said softly. "That's why we should talk. I want to put you at ease."

Ted released her arm, to his relief Francesca stayed, her expression thoughtful, tears forgotten. After a few seconds of deliberation, she sniffed lightly but responded. "Okay, we can meet in the summerhouse in a few minutes. Is that all right?"

The summerhouse was more like a self-contained guesthouse. Set in the garden at the rear of the house, it had its own bedroom, kitchen, and living area, it would give them all the privacy they needed.

"Of course, I'll meet you there." Ted moved away.

Francesca left the room and after a decent interval, Ted followed the path out to the summerhouse. She was waiting in the neat living room. As he approached, Ted noticed how fine the girl actually was. The elegant dress accentuated her slim, athletic figure, showing her narrow waist and moulding to her tight breasts and slim hips.

He gave an involuntary lick of his lips as the recollection of her unguarded nudity flashed. He recalled the sweet curve of her breasts, with the nipples like pebbles set in the light coins of the areola. The memory of Francesca's solitary pleasure, in the moment before she had realised his presence, stirred the man on a visceral level. How different she looked now, so demure and refined, so unlike the wanton figure he'd witnessed, her feet hooked on the desk, her hand moving quickly at the unseen point between her legs, and with the carnal images and sounds from the film she had been watching so avidly providing a soundtrack of depravity.

Francesca watched him approach with cautious expectancy in her narrowed eyes. Ted coughed uncertainly. "Thank you," he began, "Thank you for meeting me. I know it must be so difficult."

"Yes, Mr Bryant, it is." Francesca closed her eyes to blank out the mortification she felt in his presence. "I'm so, so embarrassed."

"Yes, well, erm... so am I." Ted looked nervous and uncertain. He was on very unfamiliar ground.

The girl was nineteen for God's sake! How did you deal with a teenager? Never married, childless, Ted had no experience of children, teenagers, or even a blossoming young woman such as Francesca. Not only was the situation entirely alien to him, there was the added awkwardness of her being his best friend's daughter. In spite of his altruistic intention in putting Francesca at ease, Ted found he was floundering on the sea of uncertainty.

Francesca saw his discomfort and felt a pang of sympathy for him. He is just as fucked up as I am, she thought. The realisation of Ted's torment sent her fears flying on wings of relief. Ted wasn't going to tell her father anything!

"I didn't realise," Francesca murmured. "I didn't think how you would feel." Francesca laid her hand lightly on his sleeve.

He looked at her gratefully. "Me?" Ted blurted. "I was devastated. I felt such a fool. To blunder in at such a private moment - I was horrified - Jesus..." Ted pushed his fingers through his hair.

"I thought you'd tell, Dad. I thought you'd tell him what a... what a slut his daughter was."

Ted stared at the girl, his jaw slack. His tone was incredulous when he recovered enough to reply. "Tell your father? Why would I tell your father? I may be a bastard in business, but what I so clumsily interrupted..." he paused, "Well that's something we've all done, Francesca, so there's nothing to tell."

"Really?" Francesca said. "You don't think I'm nasty and dirty?"

Ted sighed. How had he gotten embroiled in this conversation? He'd only meant to put her at ease, but now he was on the cusp of revealing masturbatory secrets to a girl thirty years his junior. He had to extract from this situation.

"No, you're neither nasty nor dirty. You're just a normal, healthy..." He was about to say 'girl', but thought better at the last moment. "...Woman," he finished.

"Oh my God, thank you, Mr Bryant." Francesca's relief was almost palpable. "I was so embarrassed... Well, I still am, but..."

"Then we'll say no more about it." Ted felt it was time to end the matter. He'd achieved what he'd set out to do. "Now, shall we get back to the party? Or there could be real awkward questions being asked." He smiled at Francesca and noted the relief in her face.

***

"Where have you been, darling?" Francesca's mother swept towards her when Francesca re-entered the party.

"Uhm... I was just chatting to Mr Bryant." Caught off guard by the sudden question, Francesca could think of no other reply.

"Ted?" Her mother questioned. "What have you been talking to him about?" Francesca felt her blush begin, but then calmed when she realised her mother had no real interest in the topic of conversation between her and Ted. She noticed the glaze in her mother's eyes and decided that the woman was less than sober. "You have to watch Ted, dear," her mother quipped. "He's a bit of a rogue - Although you're way too young for him."

Her interest piqued by this indiscreet revelation, Francesca took the gamble and pressed her mother. "Rogue?" She asked conspiratorially. "What do you mean 'rogue'?"

"Well," her mother began in a low, gossipy tone, "In his time he's had dozens of women - dozens." Francesca was surprised to hear her mother confess: "And, if I hadn't married your father... Well, let's just say..." Her mother gave a slow, exaggerated wink. "Anyway, look at him." She nodded in the direction of Ted who was now in earnest discussion with another guest. "He's mature, wealthy, and he keeps fit. All my friends fancy him...No wonder the ladies flock... Yes, he's quite a catch, quite a dish."

Francesca stood, rooted to the spot with surprise at her mother's inebriated gabble. The girl took an opportunity to study Ted properly when her mother wobbled uncertainly back to her husband. She had never really looked at him before, all through her life he'd just 'been there', but now she took a keen interest.

Her mother was right she decided - he was a bit cute in that distinguished way. He was confident - not smug or arrogant - but definitely confident. His easy manner, charming smile, urbane features, and athletic figure gave the man a certain, attractive air. His subtle style of dressing, tasteful but undoubtedly expensive suited him, his obvious wealth, coupled with his charisma... Yes, Francesca could see why women would be interested.

As the evening drew to a noisy, fragmented climax, Francesca engineered a farewell with Ted. "Thank you for making me feel so much better," she murmured. "I'm still uncomfortable by what you saw, but I hope we can keep it between just us."

"Of course." Ted smiled down at the girl, his height giving him an uninterrupted view through her décolletage. The glimpse of those young breasts triggered the reel in his memory. He recalled with clarity how tight and pert they had appeared that evening, but somehow this time, only partially uncovered, their allure was more powerful.

The girl noticed his eyes flick to the neckline of her dress. She felt a surge of something undefined when she realised he was looking at her tits. The feeling was very like the quickening she'd experienced at the discovery of her father's porn, a thrill of illicit possibilities, and her body responded. "It could be our secret," she whispered finally.

Ted noticed a thickness to her voice, there had been a subtle shift in her manner and it unnerved him. He was no longer the supremely confident, urbane, business executive, the girl had changed, the change was almost imperceptible, but he noticed. "Our secret?" He shifted uncomfortably.

"Sure, our secret." Francesca was suddenly enjoying herself. She was pushing her limits, using instinct as her guide. There was neither rhyme nor reason for her flirtatious attitude; she merely felt a rush of euphoric confidence. Ted was an attractive man, she saw that plainly now. Her mother's comments and his attraction sparked her feminine interest. She was sub-consciously testing him, was she capable of arousing his curiosity? He was a lordly man-of-the-world, with God only knew how many conquests under his belt. What interest would he have in a nineteen-year-old girl? Francesca decided to find out.

Ted stared at her as she walked away. He watched her move with that feminine sway of her hips, the hint of her round buttocks under the dress energised him and he swallowed heavily. Whatever had just happened, and he was unsure what exactly had transpired, whatever, it excited him.

***

The weeks following the party were disturbing for Ted. Mystified by Francesca's unexpected transition from discomfited teenager to flirtatious young woman he racked his brain trying to find a reason. What had happened?

Then there was Francesca's demeanour when he next saw her. She flaunted herself, no doubt about it. Francesca had prior knowledge of Ted's appointment with her father, he knew because she had taken the message over the phone. Therefore, when she strolled into the kitchen dressed only a tee shirt and knickers, and then feigned surprise, Ted could only wonder at what she was thinking.

"Whoops, sorry, Mr Bryant." Her eyes widened in mock horror, but she made no move to leave. "You're always catching me out," she added. "I'm beginning to think you do it on purpose."

Ted was speechless. What response could he give? Nevertheless, despite his surprise, he still managed to find enough brainpower to give Francesca's figure a quick appraisal. She was pleasant indeed, very easy on the eye.

Francesca didn't linger in the kitchen. She took a glass of water and left quickly before her father returned and caught her, but she made sure that she gave the flabbergasted Ted a good view of her backside as she walked away.

"Jesus," Ted sighed when she'd gone. "What a sensational little thing she is."

He pushed the illicit thoughts of Francesca from his mind when her father shuffled back in with the documents he'd gone to find. However, the images came back to haunt him in bed at night.

"You like that, you little cocktease?" Ted yanked his cock while imagining how he would punish Francesca for her audacity. In his mind, he had her on his bed, spread wide with her tight, pink pussy exposed and vulnerable. He pictured her expression, fearful yet anticipating the sensation of his thick cock as he slid into her sweet, juicy opening. "Shit," he grimaced when his climax threatened. "What a hot little bitch..." How tight would she be? How sweet would she taste?" Cum surged, arcing high with the force of his desire before spattering in a heavy rain onto his belly and chest. "Nineteen," he whispered. "A hot little teenager to fuck senseless, she wouldn't know what hit her." Ted grimaced and groaned in the midst of sordid fantasy, he had no idea that Francesca was masturbating over a very similar scene nearly every night.

"Oh Mr Bryant..." She whispered into the dark. Francesca used her fingers to tease her sticky kitty. "Please, be careful... I'm so tight... and you're so big." She imagined Ted's cock nudging at her, pushing into her body and filling her with throbbing power while she played the little girl to his big bad wolf. "Am I good enough for you, Mr Bryant? I am as good as your other women?" The use of the formal 'Mr' aroused Francesca. It seemed so bad, so nasty, as though he were a teacher or something. The use of the title made her feel so wicked; it was the taboo, forbidden feeling again, just like her Daddy's porn. Francesca had looked for more films when she was alone in the house. The scenarios in the films thrilled her however unlikely some of them were. The dialogue aroused her as well and she used what she'd heard in the films to pour fuel over the fire of her own fantasies. "Stick that thing into my tight, teenage cunt..." She grunted, pushing her fingers deep. Francesca adored the obscenity, its evil sound thrilled her - It was just so bad - The word was just so shocking.

Another word she loved to use was 'cum'. It fit perfectly - Cum in me. Spray me with cum. Fill me with cum. The thought of having a man do all that made her pussy clench with anticipation. Her nipples and clitty stiffened and throbbed when she imagined the sensation of having her body sprayed with a man's excitement.