I tugged the zipper of my old canvas duffel bag, squishing it shut with one hand while sitting on the edge of my bed. Inside, I’d packed the essentials—jeans, a sweatshirt, some snacks, a flashlight—but the last thing I slipped in made my chest ache a little. It was a soft, lavender-coloured nightie that used to belong to Mom. It smelled faintly of her—like lavender and dryer sheets, even though she’d been gone for over a year. I didn’t wear it much, but for some reason, bringing it along on this trip felt right, like a piece of her should come too.
Dad had the brilliant idea to take me camping, just the two of us. He said it was his way of getting us out of the house and away from “distractions.” I wasn’t sure if he meant my constant scrolling on my phone or his hours spent tinkering with the same lawnmower engine that never seemed to work. Either way, I didn’t argue. Honestly, I missed him—or maybe I missed how we used to be before everything went upside down.
I carried my bag to the car, tossing it in the backseat. Dad was already there, fumbling with some gear in the trunk. He looked up at me and smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners like they always did. “You ready, Jess?”
“Yeah,” I said, shrugging. “You remembered everything, right?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Of course I did. What do you think I am, an amateur?”
I rolled my eyes but smiled back. He always had this goofy confidence about him that made you want to believe he had it all figured out—even when you knew better.
The drive to the campsite was long, winding through backroads lined with towering pine trees. I leaned my head against the window, watching the sunlight dapple through the branches. It felt peaceful, like the kind of quiet I didn’t realize I needed until we were surrounded by it. Every now and then, Dad would point out something random—an old barn, a hawk perched on a fencepost—and I’d mumble a response, half listening, half lost in my thoughts.
When we got to the campsite, it was already late afternoon. The air smelled like pine needles and damp earth, and the lake shimmered nearby, reflecting the gold of the setting sun. We unloaded the car, and Dad started setting up the tent. I helped a little, mostly holding things while he grumbled under his breath about missing stakes and tangled ropes.
Once the tent was up, I started unpacking while Dad went to collect firewood. That’s when I found it. Or didn’t find it, I guess.
“Uh, Dad?” I called out when he got back, arms loaded with a haphazard pile of branches. “Where’s the second sleeping bag?”
He froze, staring at me like a deer caught in headlights. “The… second sleeping bag?”
“Yeah, you know, the one for me? Since there are two of us?” I crossed my arms, already feeling the corners of my mouth twitching into a smirk. “You didn’t forget, did you?”
“Of course not!” he said, dropping the wood by the firepit. “I packed two. I’m sure of it.”
I raised an eyebrow and pointed at the single sleeping bag rolled up by the tent. He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Huh. Guess I only grabbed one. Oops.”
“Oops?” I repeated, trying not to laugh. “You had one job, Dad.”
“Hey, I had several jobs,” he said defensively, but he was smiling too. “We’ll figure it out. It’s not the end of the world.”
After dinner—a surprisingly decent meal of hot dogs roasted over the fire—we sat by the flames, the warmth crackling in the cool night air. I wrapped my arms around my knees, staring into the firelight. It felt good, sitting there with him, even with the slight awkwardness that hung between us, like we were still learning how to talk to each other again.
When it was time to sleep, I changed into the nightie in the tent, the soft fabric brushing against my skin. I looked down at it, running my fingers over the lace trim. It made me think of all the times I’d seen Mom wear it, sitting on the couch with a book in her lap or walking into the kitchen with her hair in a messy bun. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I didn’t want to cry—not here, not now.
I crawled into the tent, where Dad had already unrolled the single sleeping bag. He was sprawled out on top of it, his hands behind his head, looking way too pleased with himself.
“You can have the sleeping bag,” he said, gesturing lazily. “I’ll be fine with just a blanket.”
“Yeah, right,” I said, plopping down next to him. “You’ll freeze. I’m not sharing this tent with a popsicle.”
He chuckled. “What’s the alternative? We both squeeze into it?”
I looked at him, then at the sleeping bag, then back at him. “We could try,” I said, half teasing, half serious.
To my surprise, he shrugged. “All right, scoot over.”
It took some awkward manoeuvring, but we managed to fit, kind of. It was cramped, and every time one of us shifted, the other would get elbowed or kneed. But eventually, we settled in, laughing at how ridiculous we must’ve looked. I could feel his steady breathing beside me, and it was oddly comforting.
“Hey, Jess,” he said after a while, his voice soft in the dark. “Thanks for coming with me. I know things have been… different lately. I just want you to know I’m trying.”
I turned my head to look at him, even though I could barely see his face in the dim light. “I know,” I said quietly. “I’m trying too.”
I got on my side my back facing him still feeling squashed.
“Maybe get on your side dad,” Dad grunted, shifting awkwardly. “All right, all right. On my side. You’re the boss, Miss Camping Pro.”
I felt him roll over, his elbow accidentally digging into my side. “Ow!” I yelped, nudging him back with my shoulder.
“Sorry!” he whispered, half laughing. “This isn’t exactly a king-size bed, you know.”
“No kidding,” I muttered, tugging the edge of the sleeping bag to give myself a little more room. I stared at the tent wall, the soft glow of the moon filtering through the fabric. I could hear the distant hoot of an owl and the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. It was peaceful, but also a little surreal—sharing this cramped space with Dad like we were two kids at a sleepover.
I felt Dad shift behind me, his movement jostling the sleeping bag just enough to make me aware of how little space we had. Then, he settled again, his arm draping casually over my waist like we used to do when I was little, watching movies on the couch.
“You happy now, dear?” he teased, his voice low and warm, with that familiar note of sarcasm he always used when he was trying to lighten a moment.
I couldn’t help but laugh softly, though my face grew warm. “Sure, Dad. This is exactly how I imagined camping with you would go. Sharing one sleeping bag, being squished like sardines…”
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted me on my side,” he shot back, mock defensive. “This is premium Dad-camping service. One-of-a-kind.”
“Uh-huh. Maybe next time, pack two sleeping bags, and I’ll give you a five-star review,” I quipped, shifting a little so his arm wasn’t quite so heavy.
“Noted,” he said, chuckling. “But for now, I think this is as cosy as it’s gonna get. Besides…” He hesitated for a second, his tone softening. “It’s nice. Being close again. I’ve missed this, Jess.”
I bit my lip, staring at the faint outline of the tent wall in front of me. I didn’t say anything right away, partly because I didn’t trust my voice not to crack. But I let myself lean back into him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest behind me.
“Yeah,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed it too.”
I felt his breath on my neck and he let out a sad tone, “You… you smell like her you know.”
I froze for a second, his words settling heavily between us. I hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected him to say it out loud.
“I didn’t mean to,” I murmured after a beat, my voice barely audible. “I just… it helps, I guess. Having something of hers.”
“I get it,” he said, and I could hear the thick emotion in his voice, even though he tried to mask it with a small laugh. “I still catch myself doing the same thing. Her old sweater’s in the closet, you know. I’ve tried to put it away a hundred times, but…” He trailed off, his hand tightening just slightly where it rested on my waist.
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure he could see me. “I thought bringing this would make it easier somehow. Like… like she could still be a part of this. Us.”
We didn’t speak we just laid there spooning. Moments later I felt something hard straining against my bottom.
I froze for a second as I felt the hard bulge pressing insistently against my bottom. My heart started pounding in my ears, a dizzying mix of shock, confusion, and – traitor that I was – a shameful flicker of curiosity.
I squeezed my eyes shut, hardly daring to breathe. Was this really happening? Was Dad… was he turned on right now? By me? The thought made my stomach flip sickeningly.
But he didn’t move away. If anything, he seemed to push closer, his hips nestling snugly against my backside. I could feel every inch of his stiff length through the thin fabric of my nightie and his boxers. It was so wrong, so disturbing… and yet, some dark twisted part of me couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if I just shifted my hips back a little, putting some delicious friction on that throbbing hardness.
No! I shook myself mentally, horror and disgust warring with forbidden desire. I couldn’t think like this! He was my Dad for God’s sake! This was so messed up on every level. I couldn’t let it happen, couldn’t give in to that taboo urge.
But oh, the temptation was there, simmering low and insistent. Just a little movement, a tiny press back… he’d probably never even know it was on purpose. And it had been so long since I’d felt a man’s touch, since I’d had any kind of sexual release at all. Maybe it would be okay, after all… just this once, just this secret stolen moment.
My father shifted slightly, his hardness twitching against me as he nudged his hips closer. I bit my lip viciously, knowing I was playing with fire. But I was already too far gone to stop now. Slowly, tentatively, I rolled my hips back, grinding my ass against his straining erection.
A shuddery moan escaped me at the delicious friction, my pussy clenching needily. Dad’s breath hitched behind me and his hand tightened on my hip. “Jess…” he rasped, his voice low and rough. “We… we shouldn’t…”
“I know,” I whispered back, even as I rolled my hips again, shamelessly rubbing myself on him. “But it feels so good…”
He let out a choked groan and I could feel him pulsing against my ass, his cock growing even harder. “Fuck, baby girl,” he panted, his hips starting to move in time with mine. “You’re driving Daddy crazy…”
I sighed and lifted my nightie just above my ass and slid my panties down a bit. I pushed my ass back against him again.
“I… I have taken them down for you Dad, honest its ok,” I said nervously, what would he do? Would he you know get his thing out? would he take my pussy while spooning me from behind?
I held my breath, waiting for Dad’s reaction. The tent felt too hot suddenly, the sleeping bag heavy and confining around us. I could feel every hitched breath he took, every slight shift of his body behind mine.
Then, slowly, deliberately, I felt his hand move from my waist to the bare skin of my hip. His calloused fingers skimmed over my sensitive flesh, raising goosebumps in their wake. I shivered, hardly daring to breathe.
“Jess…” he rasped, his voice rough with tension. “This… we shouldn’t.”
But even as he said it, his hand kept moving, sliding around to cup my ass. He squeezed the supple flesh, his touch sending sparks of illicit pleasure racing through me.
I pushed back against him, feeling his hardness throb against my barely-covered slit. “Please, Daddy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I need you.”
A shuddery groan escaped him and his fingers dug into the soft globes of my ass. “Fuck, baby girl,” he panted. “You’re killing me.”
Slowly, almost hesitantly, he started to pull his cock out of his boxers. I could feel it emerging inch by throbbing inch, hot and hard against my feverish skin.
When it finally sprang free, I couldn’t help but gasp. His cock felt big nudging my pussy.
“Is this what you want, sweetheart?” Dad growled, his hips rocking forward to part my lips with his cockhead. “You want Daddy’s big dick in your tight little pussy?”
“Yes,” I breathed, my own hips rolling back to meet him. “Please, Daddy… I’m so wet for you. Make me feel good.”
With a guttural groan, he thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in my needy cunt. I cried out at the sudden intrusion, my pussy clenching greedily around his thick shaft.
“Oh fuck, baby,” he panted, his hips starting to move in deep, driving thrusts. “You feel so good ah yes.”
I could only moan in response, lost to the delicious sensation of being so thoroughly filled. His cock stretched me most incredibly, hitting depths I didn’t know I had.
As he fucked me from behind, the sleeping bag bunched up around us, trapping the heat of our bodies. It was stifling, oppressive… and so, so good.
Dad’s hand found my clit, rubbing tight circles over the sensitive nub. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he growled in my ear. “Take Daddy’s cock. Fucking take it.”
I whimpered, my pussy clenching around his thick shaft as he rubbed my clit. The pleasure was so intense it bordered on pain, my nerve endings alight with sensation.
“Yes, Daddy,” I moaned, rolling my hips back to meet his thrusts. “I’m taking it all. I can’t believe you are inside me… ahh it feels good.”
He groaned, his hand tightening on my hip as he fucked me harder. The sleeping bag rustled with each deep stroke, the sound obscene in the quiet of the night. I could feel the heat building low in my belly, my orgasm approaching like a freight train.
Suddenly, Dad shifted his position, somehow sinking even deeper into my clenching cunt. I let out a sharp cry, my back bowing as he hit a previously untouched spot inside me.
“Right there, baby girl?” he panted, his voice rough with lust. “Daddy’s gonna make you cum so hard.”
All I could do was moan, my mind reeling with the intensity of his thrusts. He was pounding into me now, his hips slapping lewdly against my ass with each snap of his hips. I could feel my pussy fluttering around him, my climax fast approaching.
“Fuck, Daddy,” I keened, my nails scrabbling at his wrist as he rubbed my clit. “I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum on your big cock.”
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, his thrusts growing erratic. “Cum for Daddy. Fucking soak my dick.”
With a high, thin wail, I came undone, my pussy clamping down on his shaft like a vice. I shook and shuddered in his arms, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing over me as he fucked me through my orgasm.
Dad groaned, his hips stuttering as he chased his own peak. “Fuck, Jess,” he panted, his cock throbbing inside me. “Fuck, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.”
With a guttural moan, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself in my fluttering cunt. I could feel him twitching inside me, each spurt of his seed painting my insides with liquid heat.
We collapsed together in the sleeping bag, Dad’s softening cock still nestled in my pussy. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close as we both struggled to catch our breath in the stifling confines of the tent.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke, the only sound was our ragged breathing and the occasional hoot of an owl outside. Finally, Dad stirred behind me, carefully easing his spent cock out of my sensitive cunt.
“Jess,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “We… we shouldn’t have…”
I just shook my head, my eyes closed tight. “I know,” I whispered back, even as I felt a pang of guilt. “But it felt so good, Daddy. You made me feel so good.”
He let out a shaky sigh, his arms tightening around me. “You’re playing with fire, baby girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. “Daddy’s not going to be able to control himself around you.”
I shivered, a thrill of illicit excitement running down my spine. “Maybe I don’t want you to,” I breathed, pressing back against him. “Maybe I want Daddy to fuck me again and again until I can’t walk straight.”
Dad groaned, his cock already starting to stir against my ass. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he rasped, nibbling at my neck. “But if you’re offering, then maybe we get some sleep and I’ll give you a naughty wake-up call if I am up first.”