Confrontation

I went downstairs and found him sitting at the kitchen table, reading one of the books.

"Hey," I said.

"Hi," he said. "What's wrong?"

"I read a story in your secret library," I said.

"Oh yeah?" he asked.

"It was about a guy and his dad," I explained. "And he wanted to fuck her... or him. Sex wasn't really clear."

"Really?" my dad asked. "Interesting."

"It was really weird," I said. "But also hot."

"I've read some stories like that," my dad said.

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "It's just that sometimes I write these stories too."

"You do?" I asked.

"Sometimes," he said. "And I wouldn't mind if you read them. You liked reading them, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "They were pretty interesting."

"Then why shouldn't I share them with you?" he asked.

"Because I'm your son," I said. "I shouldn't be reading that... about my dad."

"I know," he said. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Did you ever think that maybe I might like reading them?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I never imagined you would. But now that I know you do, I guess I should write more."

"More?" I repeated.

"Yeah," he said. "I can write more stories about you and me, and our relationship. Or we could.... do more..."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"I can write about ****," he said. "Or if you want I can write about you and me as your mom. We could play out those scenarios, if you want."

I couldn't believe it. My own father wanted to have sex with me! And it sounded like I might actually enjoy it.

"I don't think I'm ready for that yet," I said.

"Yet," he said, pursing his lips. "That means you will someday want my daddy dick."

"Yeah," I said. "If you can write about it, eventually I might want it."

"Cool," he said. "Just let me know when you're ready."

"I will," I promised. I decided to read another story.