This story is fictional and all characters are 18+ and is about incest.
The December air bit at Jen’s cheeks as she stepped out of the bus and onto the snow-dusted curb. Her breath plumed white in the frigid air. Christmas at her dad’s cabin. It was meant to be a cosy escape, a return to simpler times, but a knot of anxiety tightened in her stomach. This Christmas felt different. Her parents’ divorce, still raw and stinging, had cast a long shadow over everything.
Her dad, Tom, was waiting, his face crinkled with a smile that reached his eyes. He enveloped her in a hug that smelled of woodsmoke and aftershave. “Jen! You made it! I was starting to think you’d been swallowed by a blizzard.”
The cabin was exactly as she remembered: a haven of warm wood and crackling fire. The scent of pine needles and cinnamon permeated the air. Fairy lights twinkled around the mantelpiece, illuminating family photos that felt like relics from a happier past.
Dinner was a comforting affair of roasted chicken and buttery mashed potatoes. They talked about everything and nothing, carefully skirting around the unspoken tension, the absence of her mom. Later, they sat by the fire, sipping hot chocolate, the only sound was the gentle snapping of the logs.
Jen, wrapped in a thick, woollen blanket, felt a wave of loneliness crashes over her. Eighteen felt like a strange age to be. Too old for fairy tales, too young for the messy realities of adulthood.
“Everything okay, peanut?” Tom asked, using his old nickname for her. His voice was laced with concern.
“Yeah, Dad,” she said, forcing a smile. “Just…thinking.”
He nodded, understanding etched on his face. “Christmas can be tough. Especially this year.”
As the night deepened, Jen excused herself to bed. The guest room, usually filled with the light chatter of cousins during past Christmases, felt cavernous and silent. She pulled on her favorite, oversized, polar bear-printed nightie. It was soft and warm, a small comfort in the chill of the lonely room.
Sleep evaded her. She tossed and turned, her mind replaying old memories, questioning the future, her heart aching with a sadness she couldn’t quite name.
Suddenly, a low, rumbling “Ho, ho, ho!” floated up the stairs. Startled, she sat up in bed. Was she dreaming?
Cautiously, she crept to the door and peeked out. There, bathed in the warm glow of the downstairs lights, stood a figure. A figure in a bright red suit, with a fluffy white beard that tickled his chest, and a twinkling smile that she instantly recognized. It was her dad. Dressed as Santa Claus.
Jen gasped, a giggle bubbling up from her chest. “Dad? What are you doing?”
Tom, as Santa, turned towards her, his eyes sparkling. “Well, hello there, little one! Santa heard there was a very special girl who needed a little Christmas cheer.”
He looked so ridiculous, so endearingly awkward, that Jen couldn’t help but laugh. It was the first genuine laugh she’d had all day. “Santa? Really?” she said, leaning against the doorframe. Her nightie, suddenly, didn’t seem so inappropriate.
Tom, still in character, winked. “Santa knows all. And Santa knows you’ve been a very good girl this year.”
He beckoned her downstairs. Hesitantly, Jen descended the stairs, her bare feet padding softly on the wooden steps. The fire crackled merrily, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The cabin suddenly felt magical, transformed into a wonderland by her dad’s unexpected performance.
“Come closer, child,” Santa boomed, his voice a surprisingly good imitation. “Santa has a question for you.”
Jen, feeling a surge of lightness she hadn’t felt in months, approached him. He was standing next to the armchair, looking utterly absurd and utterly adorable.
“Well, Santa I am not a child I am 18,” she said, playing along, “what is it?”
He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that warmed her from the inside out. “Have you been naughty or nice?”
Jen grinned a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Depends on who you ask.”
Without thinking, propelled by a sudden impulse, she walked over to him and, with a playful flourish, plopped herself onto his knee.
Tom, momentarily startled, quickly recovered. He wrapped an arm around her, the fake beard tickling her cheek. “And what does Santa’s very special girl want for Christmas?” he asked, his voice softening, the Santa persona slipping slightly.
Jen looked up at him, her heart suddenly overflowing with a mix of gratitude and love. “I already have everything I need, Santa,” she whispered. “I have my dad. You have something else too which is hard and against my bum. I should tell you the truth I am a very naughty girl. I know your my dad but I want that hard cock.”
“Darling omg,” he looked shocked and broke out of Santa’s character.
Tom’s eyes widened, his gaze darting from Jen’s face to her nightie-clad lap. A flush crept up his neck as he processed her words.
“Jen, sweetheart, you don’t mean that,” he said, his voice wavering between shock and concern. Jen’s heart pounded in her chest as she met his gaze, a mix of vulnerability and determination in her eyes.
“I do, Dad. I want you. Not as my dad, but as a man. I’ve fantasized about it for so long. Seeing you as Santa, just brought it all to the surface.” Tom’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his grip on her tightening slightly. “Jen, we can’t… I’m your father. It’s wrong.”
“Is it really?” Jen countered, her voice barely above a whisper. Jen ground her ass against his throbbing member.
Tom groaned, his resolve crumbling under her seductive assault. “Jen, stop. This isn’t right.” But his hands didn’t move to push her away, instead, they gripped her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs.
Jen leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “You want it too, Dad. I can feel it. Your hard cock is aching for me.” She rocked her hips, grinding her ass against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body.
Tom’s head fell back, a low moan escaping his throat as he succumbed to his desires. His hands slid up her thighs, under the hem of her nightie, to cup her ass cheeks. He squeezed them, pulling her harder against him, his cock throbbing in time with his racing heart.
“Fuck, Jen,” he breathed, his voice heavy with lust. “You’re driving me crazy. We… we can’t I am trying so hard to fight this.”
“Please, Dad,” she whispered, her voice husky with want. “I need this. I need you.” She rocked her hips again, grinding her ass against his cock, revelling in the way he groaned at the contact. Tom’s resolve crumbled further, his grip on her ass tightening as he pulled her closer.
“Jen, baby, you’re going to make me lose control,” he warned, his voice strained.
“That’s the idea,” she purred, nipping at his earlobe. “I want you to fuck me, Dad. Hard and deep. Want me to go lay on the couch for you.”
Jen’s pulse raced as she slowly stood up from Tom’s lap, her nightie riding up to expose the lacy edges of her panties. She gave him a sultry smile, her eyes dark with desire.
“C’mon, Dad. Let’s make this Christmas one to remember.” With a nod, Tom stood up, his eyes fixed on his daughter’s barely covered form. He led her to the couch, his hands roaming over her body, tracing the curves of her hips, the swell of her ass.
Jen lay back on the couch, her polar bear nightie bunched around her waist, exposing her lacy black panties to her father’s hungry gaze. She arched her back as she slid her panties off dropped them to the floor and lay on her back waiting.
Tom’s eyes devoured the sight of his daughter spread out before him, her lacy black panties now discarded on the floor. He swallowed hard, his throat dry with desire. His cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the fabric as he gazed at the wet patch growing on the front of her panties.
“Fuck, Jen,” he breathed his voice husky with lust. “You’re so fucking sexy.”Jen bit her lower lip, her eyes locked on his, a sultry smile playing on her lips. “Come on, Dad. Make me feel good.”
Tom’s hands shook slightly as he reached for his belt, unfastening it with a fumbling motion. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. Jen’s gaze flicked down, her pupils dilating as she took in the sight of his erection.
Jen’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at her father’s cock. It was bigger than she had imagined, thick and veiny, the head a deep, angry red. She felt a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness. This was really happening. Tom’s eyes, dark with desire, met hers as he stepped closer to the couch.
“You want it, baby?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. Jen nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She reached out, her hand trembling as she wrapped it around the base of his cock. It was hot to the touch, pulsing with need.
“Please, Dad,” she whispered. “I need you inside me.” Tom groaned, his head falling back as he let her guide him to her entrance. He nudged her thighs apart with his knee, the tip of his cock brushing against her slick folds.
Jen gasped as she felt the head of Tom’s cock push against her wet, swollen lips. Her body trembled with anticipation, her core aching to be filled. She wrapped her legs around his hips, drawing him closer, urging him to take what she offered. Tom’s hands gripped her thighs, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he positioned himself at her entrance. He looked down at his daughter, his eyes blazing with desire, his chest heaving with each ragged breath. He pushed forward slowly.
Slowly, he pushed forward, the tip of his cock breaching her entrance. Jen’s back arched off the couch, a gasp escaping her lips as she felt him stretch her open, his girth filling her inch by delicious inch. He paused for a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size, her body moulding around him like a velvet vice.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Tom groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. He started to move, withdrawing almost completely before pushing back in, his thick cock sliding deep into her wet heat. Jen moaned, her hands gripping the couch cushions as she met each of his thrusts.
Tom’s thrusts grew harder, faster, his cock pounding into Jen’s wet cunt with a rhythm that echoed through the cabin. The sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet squelch of her arousal, filled the room, mixing with their ragged breathing and moans of pleasure.
Jen’s back arched off the couch, her tits bouncing with each powerful thrust, the hard nubs of her nipples rubbing against the soft fabric of her nightie. She felt so full, so stretched, her inner walls clenching around Tom’s thick cock, drawing him deeper with each stroke.
“Harder, Dad,” she panted, her voice husky with need. “Fuck me harder.” Tom’s response was a grunt, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock into her with a force that made her gasp. The sound mingled with their moans and the creaking of the old couch.
As Tom pounded into her, his cock driving deep into Jen’s wet, clenching cunt, she felt a wave of ecstasy wash over her. Her body was on fire, her senses overwhelmed by the sensation of her father’s thick dick stretching her open, claiming her in a way she had never imagined possible.
Jen’s hands scrabbled at the couch cushions, her nails digging into the fabric as she met each of Tom’s powerful thrusts. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back in abandon, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breathing and the creaking of the old couch beneath them.
Tom’s grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he fucked her with a primal intensity. He was lost in the sensation, his mind consumed by the tight, wet heat of his daughter’s cunt enveloping his cock.
Tom’s thrusts became more urgent, his hips slamming into Jen’s with a force that shook the couch. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, a lewd symphony of flesh on flesh. Jen’s tits bounced wildly with each impact, her nightie riding up to expose the smooth, flat plane of her stomach.
“Fuck, Jen,” Tom grunted, his voice strained. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna pump you full of my cum.”
Jen’s eyes flew open, locking onto his. “Yes,” she hissed, her nails raking down his back. “Do it, Dad. Cum inside me. I want to feel it.”
Tom’s thrusts became erratic, his rhythm faltering as he chased his release. Jen’s cunt clenched around him, milking his cock, urging him to let go.
Tom’s body tensed, his muscles coiled tight as he drove into Jen one final time. With a roar, he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he unleashed his load into his daughter’s eager cunt. Jen’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open in a silent scream as she felt the hot flood of his cum filling her, coating her insides, marking her as his. Her own orgasm crashed over her, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed through her.
As the last tremors faded, Tom collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat. Jen wrapped her arms around him, holding him close, their bodies still joined, still pulsing with the aftermath of their forbidden passion. The cabin was silent, save for the soft crackling of the fire and their ragged breathing.
Tom’s chest heaved as he lay atop Jen, his heart pounding in his ears. The reality of what they had just done crashed over him like a tidal wave, leaving him dizzy and disoriented. He had crossed a line, a boundary that could never be uncrossed. He was her father, for fuck’s sake. What kind of monster did that make him?
Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted himself off her, his softening cock slipping out of her well-fucked cunt with a wet plop. He sat on the edge of the couch, his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. “Jen, we…we can’t do this,” he said, his voice muffled. “This was wrong. So fucking wrong.”
Jen sat up, pulling her nightie down to cover herself. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Wrong?” she repeated, her voice shaking.
Jen’s heart clenched at her dad’s words, a pang of hurt and rejection piercing through the haze of post-coital bliss. She reached out, placing a trembling hand on his shoulder. “Why is it wrong, Dad?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “We both wanted this. I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m a woman, and I wanted you. I still want you.” Tom shook his head, his shoulders slumping.
“Because I’m your father, Jen,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. “I’m supposed to protect you, not…not fuck you.” He turned to look at her, his eyes red-rimmed and haunted.
Jen’s heart shattered at the sight of her dad’s anguished expression. Tears spilt down her cheeks as she crawled onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Please, Dad,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “Don’t push me away. I love you. Not just as a father, but as a man. I know it’s complicated, but I can’t deny how I feel.” Tom’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close as if she might disappear if he let go. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent, feeling the warmth of her skin against his.
“I love you too, Jen,” he murmured, his voice thick with tears. “So much it hurts. But loving you like this…it’s not right.” Jen pulled back, cupping his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Who says what’s right and wrong?”
Tom looked at her, his eyes searching hers, conflicted and torn. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The cabin was silent, save for their ragged breathing and the gentle patter of snow against the windows.
Jen’s heart raced as she waited for his response, her palms slick with sweat against his cheeks. She could see the internal struggle playing out in his eyes, the war between desire and duty, love and morality.
Slowly, hesitantly, Tom leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed. When he opened them again, the conflict was gone, replaced by a quiet resignation and a spark of something darker, more primal.
“You’re right,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “Who says what’s right and wrong? Not society, not morality, not even us. Only our hearts, our desires.”
That night they spent the night making love.