Destroy This Disc Ch 01

(Part 1 of 2)

I hesitate to post this story. Incest is wrong. I know it, and I never intended what happened to me. This is a cautionary tale. But really I just need to get it off my chest.

My parents were taken much too soon. They were not quite fifty when their car went off the road on their way back from Aspen, Colorado. I was working in the Persian Gulf at the time and while my employer allowed me to travel home for the funeral, we were in the middle of a multi-year project and I was a critical asset. I had to go back. My sister Amy took care of the estate and everything. But it was hard for me to process my grief being so far from home.

Helen and Charles were nerds, and I mean that with all love and respect. They were cool nerds if you believe in such a thing. Helen worked in the marketing department of a sports apparel company. She was a photographer, writer, graphic designer. Our family photo albums were not half-assed productions. Charles was a fantasy artist, specializing in scantily-clad damsels in precarious situations. If you play role-playing games you have probably seen his work. My first loves were the impossibly sexy ladies in his folios.

Their jobs allowed good work-life balance and we spent a lot of time together. Mom and Dad took vacations seriously and they instilled in us a lust for life and also an appreciation for simple pleasures. We traveled the country and the world looking for adventures. But we never failed to stop for the little museums and roadside attractions. They had a lot of life left in them. Like I said, they were taken much too soon.

My family wasn't rich but we were comfortable. With my modest inheritance I felt like I could take a break when my project was finished, work a normal job for a while. I moved back to our home town and since the house was sold I took an apartment in the old neighborhood. Seeing the places we used to hang out made me nostalgic. My parents being gone didn't seem real when I was on the other side of the world. Back home, every little thing reminded me how real it was.

It was because I was living there that I was contacted by the manager of a local bank. Dad had a safe deposit box there that we didn't know about. It had been paid in advance for several years but that was running out and he asked if I wanted to renew. I told him I would collect the contents once I got in touch with my sister who had the necessary permissions to things like that. Amy told me to go ahead, report what I found and we would decide how to split it.

Going through the contents was short and sweet. There was Dad's old revolver, a real working antique. I had been seriously bummed when it wasn't found among Dad's effects. There was Mom's diamond necklace. Amy would love that. I'd keep the pistol, easy peasy. Then there was a small brown paper envelope. When I turned it over to open it I saw written in Dad's handwriting: "Destroy this disc. Do not read." I'll give you some advice. When you get a message like that, listen to it.

The envelope contained a USB drive. I wondered what Dad was hiding. Embarrassing porn? Blackmail material? Nudie pictures of my mom? Ha ha, very funny. Oh, how naive I was. Curiosity got the better of me so I plugged the drive into a secure machine I use for digital forensics. To the old man's credit he had the contents encrypted. The software he used was out of date though and flawed to begin with. I cracked his security in less than an hour. I remember being proud of myself.

The drive contained a gallery of about two dozen pictures, pictures of the most attractive women I had ever seen. Not women... it was just one woman. Though she was dressed and posed differently in every picture, there was no mistaking the honey blond hair, the sleepy eyes, the serene smile. It was my own mother, Helen T_____. What a treasure! Why was Dad hiding these? The pictures were sexy, sure, but not nasty. She showed some leg here, some cleavage there. I couldn't deny it, she was hot. I was so excited with my discovery.

The pictures appeared to be in chronological order. The earliest were scans of polaroid snapshots. I thought this was odd because Mom always had very nice camera equipment. I did remember an instant camera that we would get out at parties. Those pictures rarely made it into albums and I don't remember any getting scanned. Then there were low resolution images from the early digital cameras. I noticed periodic leaps in image quality and came to the realization that each picture probably represented a year. Twenty-eight pictures for their twenty-eight years of marriage.

A few of the pictures were of my dad. He wore suits in those pictures, looking dapper, posed normally. My mother though, wow. She looked like a million bucks and her pictures were staged like magazine covers. There she's in a white bathing suit at the beach. There she's climbing a rock wall in tight spandex pants. There she's standing on a balcony wearing a loosely-buttoned dress shirt and maybe nothing else. I recognized some of these settings. The beach was near Pensacola where we had vacationed when I was in my teens. The balcony was a hotel we had stayed at in New Orleans.

One picture in particular caught my eye. It was the first taken with what must have been their high quality DSLR camera. Mom was dressed like someone's wet dream of a librarian. Black glasses, crisp white shirt, black skirt, black panty hose, high heels. She was crouching to retrieve a book from a lower shelf and the slit of her skirt had parted nearly to her waist. It really looked as if she might not have been wearing anything underneath the hosiery, which is kind of hot to me. I clicked the image to enlarge it but that's not what happened. Instead, another gallery opened. Now I knew what my father was hiding.

In stunned silence I watched the seduction play out in images. My father, dressed in a white shirt, black pants, eyes my mother while she goes about her business. Then the image of her crouching and she looks up, making eye contact with him at last. She stands, they kiss, his hand goes under her skirt. Their clothing is discarded piece by piece. Mom is indeed not wearing panties under her hosiery, nor is she wearing a bra under her shirt. Dad stands behind her, her shirt hanging from her shoulders, and caresses her breasts lasciviously. My dick was so stiff by this time I was afraid it would crack and fall off. I rested my free hand on my bulge and squeezed it just to relieve the pressure.

I wondered if there was a third person there holding the camera. But I assumed by the unchanging camera angles and the sometimes off-center images that the camera was on a tripod. It must have been firing on a timer or perhaps they were using a remote control. Periodically they would reposition the tripod and change the lighting, filters, zoom. But the overall effect seemed continuous and natural. They did quality work. I wouldn't expect anything less from my parents. But you probably aren't interested in all that.

Back in the gallery Mom was down to her panty hose, looking like an icon. She sat up on the polished wood desk, resting on her hands behind her with legs spread wide. I could see her golden bush through the thin stretched fabric. Instead of pulling off her hose, Dad ripped them open at the crotch. I nearly choked. That is another thing I find incredibly hot. I couldn't stand it any more. I undid my pants and got it out, stroked it slowly while my father buried his face in my mother's puss, her legs in torn nylon draped over his shoulders.

He turned her around and bent her over the desk. Her left leg was cocked up on the surface so the camera got a good view of him penetrating her. Her shapely legs looked so right, her ass so perfect. I began stroking myself in earnest. To my shame, I imagined myself moving inside her, running my hands over those soft round cheeks. At the bottom of the gallery were three animated gifs showing the hottest moments of the scene, over and over again. One of them showed Charles ripping open Helen's panty hose, over and over again. That was all I could take.

*****

I would like to tell you I didn't continue beating off to dirty pictures of my mother. Unfortunately I can't tell you that. In fact, I lost count of the times. I would look at her pictures before work. All day I would think about her. Every evening I would pleasure myself while imagining being in my father's place, making love to this incredible woman. Before this I had been flirting with several women. Now I couldn't imagine being with a woman who wasn't her. It was like I had acquired an instant porn addiction. That's bad enough. But why did it have to be my own mother?

There were twenty-eight galleries but some were better than others. Five of them were focused on my dad and I wasn't remotely interested in those. I did scan them quickly for pictures with Mom but there wasn't much there that was better than in the other galleries. The polaroid scans were nice but brief and relatively tame. The earliest ones were teases; Mom sunbathing with her bikini top undone, her back shining with oil; Mom straddling a bench wearing an open robe, her arms crossed casually in front of her so you couldn't see the goods.

As the years progressed, though, the polaroids got more daring. Mom showed some boob, some bare ass. She and Dad even flirted with an 'X" rating. They posed together in a clearly sexual manner but arranged so that you couldn't really see the action. Like when he has his back turned and she's kneeling in front of him and you can almost, almost see the corner of her mouth. Or she's sitting in his lap, straddling him, and her tennis skirt barely covers their union. There was one such gallery I was particularly fond of where Mom is touring an art museum completely naked. It must have been after hours because no one else is there and the lights are low. At first she is pretending to just look at the art. But she appears drawn to the penises on the statues. By the end of the gallery she is posing obscenely with giant phallic sculptures. Hot!

When they switched to digital they threw caution to the wind. Dad took a lot of closeups of Mom's scantily-clad and naked body and they no longer tried to obscure the graphic sex they were having. It was like they had been waiting impatiently for the chance to photograph themselves sucking and fucking and they were going to get it all out of their systems. Unfortunately their first digital camera was not that good. The images were grainy and the colors didn't make things look very appetizing. Frankly, if it were not for the model, my own mother, I would not have found these galleries very interesting at all.

Their later cameras worked a lot better and the artistry improved with time, as well. They began acting out seductions like you see in some adult magazines. Mom would dress up as a fantasy and do strip teases for Dad. He would pose her for the camera, pull down her panties an inch at a time, hold her legs apart, spread her cheeks and finger her. She would fondle herself, lick her own nipples, show off her ass and legs at just the right angles. And at the bottom of the gallery there would be animated gifs showing the hottest scenes, over and over again.

One gallery was all blow jobs. Mom had Dad's dick in her mouth in almost every picture. She was kneeling in front of him, looking up into the camera. She had her head on his stomach with the camera looking down on her from above. She was sitting on the bed with him standing in front of her, the camera showing her in profile. She was licking him like a lollipop. She was sucking on his scrotum. One of the gifs for this gallery showed her deep throating, her lips working to help pull him in. Another showed her making duck lips, her lips clinging to Dad's cock as he slowly pulls it out. The last showed her lying on her back, her tongue lashing the head of his penis as he fucked her face with it. I'm just glad that there were no shots of her with come on her face or in her mouth. That would not have been cool.

Another of my favorite galleries involved Mom and Dad and a lifelike rubber dick. Mom put that dildo between her tits and licked the tip. She sucked on it while Dad fucked her missionary style. Then she fucked herself with it while she sucked him. She took both the real dick and the fake one into her mouth at the same time. Then Dad ate her luscious pussy while he pressed the head of the rubber dick up against her asshole. I'm very glad that none of the galleries showed my mother being fucked in the ass. That would not have been cool. But I have to admit it was extremely hot seeing that toy pressed up in her very private place, not being able to tell if it was actually penetrating her or not.

But my favorite gallery was a simple affair recorded on a Caribbean cruise we took to celebrate Amy graduating from college and me from high school. Maybe it was because I really enjoyed that vacation. Maybe it was because at the time I noticed how my mother was kind of cute. But the gallery itself was such a sweet romantic seduction, nothing out of the ordinary. Mom and Dad kissing deeply while they removed each other's summer clothes. She stroked his cock while he caressed her breasts. She pushed him back on the bed and straddled him, the camera angled to watch her golden bush engulf his manhood. She sat high and straight on his rod and rode him up and down. My very favorite shot, my favorite animated gif, showed her sitting proudly on his dick, her hands spreading her shapely cheeks, looking back at the camera with those sleepy eyes, that serene smile. I felt like she knew I was watching, was smiling just for me.

*****

Months went by, a whole season went by, before I finally snapped out of it. I had to stop it and the only right course was to destroy the galleries before they destroyed me. I hated to squander them but it had to be done. As long as they existed I couldn't trust myself to leave them alone. And unless they were destroyed there would be the risk of them leaking out. I couldn't allow that to happen. I sincerely doubted my sister would want to see the pictures and she is the only other person who might be considered entitled to them.

I downloaded the cover photos, the sexy but safe-for-work photos, to a separate folder. I would send those to Amy with a note saying "Hey look how hot our parents are, ha ha". She didn't have to know just how hot they really were. Then I could hit delete and that would be the end of it. But when the time came I happened to notice that the size of the encrypted volume was much larger than it should have been. I did some investigating and realized there was a second encrypted volume hidden within the first. Oh, why do I have to be so thorough?

This would have been an excellent time for me to follow my father's instructions: "Destroy this disc. Do not read.". Here the universe was offering me a second chance to not be an asshole. Fear of missing out? That's bullshit. But I had it. And I was impressed at the old man's encryption acumen. He was an artist, not an engineer. He had something to hide and he did a fair job at hiding it. What made me curious was if these explosive pictures of my mother were within his first line of defense what could he be hiding inside the second? I had to know. Oh, I wish, I wish I didn't know.