The Intimate Photo Session

"Oh God, Heather, you're so tight," I groaned. I pushed harder until I was all the way home.

"Oh! James! Oh God, please, love me! Make love to me!" she moaned.

I obliged my daughter. With animal intensity, I began to fuck her hard and fast, long strokes and short strokes, deeply in and out. We were like animals searching for release. We became like one body, moving in unison, moving in time to the beat of our own savage heart. It was pure lust. It was love laced with sinful intent. It was heaven and perfection, her body, mine, inside of her, coupled like wild lovers. We were so free in that moment, so alive, so young. She cried out to me to come in her, to complete her, to give her the baby she had always wanted. I no longer cared what was right and what was wrong. I only wanted to meet her in heavenly bliss.

Then we crested that mountain, both of us reaching that climactic conclusion. I came deep inside of her, shooting my hot, unholy seed once more, deep within my daughter's fertile pussy. I roared again with a satisfied groan as I surged forward and shot again and again, coating her forbidden flesh.

Soon enough, I collapsed onto the bed on top of her. We shared our first passionate kiss, each of us groping the other's body. Then, my softened, battered, and thoroughly beaten cock plopped out of her. I cradled her in my arms and shut my eyes in total contentment.

Eventually, Heather stood up and walked to her bathroom without a word. I sat up, stunned. Bewilderment and remorse began to set in. She stayed in the bathroom for a very long time and my mind ran through possible scenarios of what she was thinking.

In time, I got up and knocked softly on the bathroom door. She did not answer, but I could hear her running the water. I put my clothes back on, gathered my equipment, and left her bedroom, closing the door quietly to give her privacy. I set my tripod and camera bag by the front door and waited in the living room. I wondered if Heather would come out and I certainly wouldn't have blamed her if she didn't. Her own father had violated her trust and took advantage of her while she was in a vulnerable state. She was alone and lonely and her own father stuck his dick in her mouth and came inside and on her face and tits! And then, in a fit of animal lust, her father had fucked her senseless. What a fucking loser I was!

It seemed like another hour had passed and still she did not come out. I was pacing her living room carpet and wringing my hands together, going over and over in my head what I had to say to her. What could I say? What was appropriate in this situation? What father could ever know or prepare for this type of situation? It was hopeless and I had broken all trust. I had lost. I had lost Heather and my marriage and my own sanity.

Eventually, I heard her moving in her bedroom. She emerged a moment later, dressed in her bathrobe once more. She did not look at me.

Quietly, I said, "Heather...I think...we should talk."

She walked into her kitchen and called out to me. "Do you want a drink, Dad?"

I followed her. "Yeah. Sure. But I think we should talk. Listen, hon, I am so so sorry—"

She turned to face me and handed me a glass of wine. Her eyes were red again and I knew she had been crying. I stood closer to her and we each took a sip. The alcohol would certainly calm her down. It would calm me down!

"Listen, honey, I am so—"

"You know, James liked to drink a glass of wine after dinner almost every night. We used to share a bottle on most nights and take long walks, holding hands." Heather seemed to be avoiding the subject. Jesus! I had just come inside of her mouth and pussy less than an hour ago and she wanted to talk about drinking wine and going for long walks!

I reached up and stroked her cheek—the same cheek I had spilled my unholy seed upon. "Heather, I think we should talk about..."

She looked up at me pleadingly, innocently, sadly. Her heart was broken. "Do you want to take a walk with me, Dad? Will you walk with me after our drink?"

I nodded. "I'll do anything you need me to, baby."

We finished our wine and set our glasses down. After she got dressed, we took a long walk around her apartment complex, hand in hand, and talked about nothing, everything, silly things. She was my little girl again and all notion of guilt and shame had been set aside for later.

I kissed her goodnight at her door and she refused my offer to stay and take care of her. I would have a long, thoughtful ride back home. Over and over, I played the images in my head and my cock had come to life at least five or six times before I walked inside my house with a burdened heart.

Claire noticed that I was troubled and offered me a loving hug. We sat at the couch and pretended to watch TV, my thoughts a million miles away. Then, Claire turned to me and said, "So what will you do with the pictures?"

I shrugged. "She said she wanted to send them to James."

Claire furrowed her brows and sighed once. "Where will she send them to? I mean, I'm sure his commander will take them, but where do they keep those letters from grieving wives?"

I looked her deeply in the eyes and she could tell I was holding back tears. Tears of sorrow and regret, tears for a lost and lonely daughter. "I really don't know, Claire. Probably the same thing they do with children's letters to Santa."

"They hold on to them?" Claire asked. "The Army keeps the letters from wives whose husbands have..."

I nodded. "Died. Yeah. I suppose they do."

I leaned forward and gave my wife one soft, last kiss on her cheek. My thoughts kept screaming over and over, 'What happens if Heather gets pregnant? How am I supposed to explain this one?'

The End?

Author's End Notes:

I realize this is yet another story that could go into another chapter and I also realize it is another depressing one! My apologies. It's just what I like to write about sometimes and am not so turned on by easy women. Hope it is still a good read. I was planning on moving towards darker, non-consentual type stories. If you're interested in that, dear reader, please drop me a line. Thank you!