I could feel the chill of the woods before we even got the fire going, but I didn’t complain. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
I was wearing my favourite zip-up hoodie—well, unzipped, of course, because who needs warmth when you’ve got curves? My tank top underneath clung in all the right places, low-cut and soft, grey cotton showing just enough cleavage to get away with calling it “casual.” My jeans were tight, torn at the knees, and my boots were muddy from the hike in, but I liked the contrast—tough on the bottom, soft and teasing up top. Lip gloss was subtle. Hair down. I wasn’t exactly trying to seduce anyone… but I liked feeling like I could.
And then, of course, the old man had to ruin it.
“There’s only one sleeping bag,” Dad said, patting down the gear like the answer might’ve magically appeared under a log.
I just stared at him. “You had one job.”
He gave me that sheepish shrug, the one he used to flash when he forgot to pick me up from school because he’d gotten distracted by football or some bar’s happy hour wings.
“Sorry, kiddo. Thought I packed both. Guess we’re getting cosy tonight.” He chuckled like it was nothing.
I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly saw the back of my skull. Great. One sleeping bag. This was supposed to be a peaceful weekend, not a forced cuddle with my emotionally constipated father.
We got the fire going eventually, even though he fumbled the lighter twice and I had to step in like always. I cracked open the bottle of bourbon I smuggled in my backpack—he noticed, of course, but didn’t say a damn thing. Just raised his brow.
“You planning on sharing that, or am I still your least favourite person?” he asked, rubbing his hands together near the flames.
I handed him the bottle without a word. He knew damn well I didn’t hate him. I was just tired of pretending everything was fine when it never really was.
He took a long sip and passed it back. “Your mom would kill me if she saw this.”
I laughed. “Your marriage already looks dead, Dad. Pretty sure this is the least of her concerns.”
He looked over at me—really looked. His eyes glossy, mouth twitching like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the fight left in him.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You’re not wrong.”
That stopped me cold. My smart-ass line had hit something deeper. For once, he wasn’t deflecting. He was cracking open, just a little.
He leaned back on the log, stretching his legs out toward the fire. “She doesn’t look at me the same. Hasn’t in years. We talk, but… not really. You know?”
I nodded, taking the bottle back and sipping. “Yeah. I know. I grew up watching it.”
I probably shouldn’t have said it that way. But it was the truth, and he needed to hear it. No more sugarcoating.
“She used to light up when I walked in a room,” he said, eyes lost in the firelight. “Now she looks at me like I’m furniture. Like I’m in the way.”
His voice cracked at the end. God, he sounded old. Like he aged ten years in a single breath.
“She resents you,” I said bluntly because this wasn’t a night for lies. “You resented her too. You just hid it better.”
He turned his head, and stared at me like I’d just peeled open his chest and read it back to him.
“I didn’t think you noticed,” he said softly.
I always noticed. Kids always notice. We just wait for the adults to catch up.
We were quiet for a while. The fire popped, sending a little ember into the night air, dancing up like a tiny star before it vanished.
“You ever regret staying with her?” I asked, and my voice felt smaller than I meant it to.
He didn’t answer right away. He reached for the bottle again and took a long, slow pull before passing it back.
“Only every time I look at you,” he said.
I blinked. “Wow. Thanks, Dad. That’s not emotionally scarring at all.”
He laughed—actually laughed. It was rough and rusty like he hadn’t done it in a while. “No, I mean… I stayed for you. If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t think I would’ve made it past year six.”
That hit differently. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry, or hug him, or just keep drinking.
“Don’t make me feel guilty for existing,” I said, trying to keep it light, but my throat was tight.
He shook his head. “I’m not. You were the only good thing. The only damn reason I kept trying.”
The way he said it—it wasn’t flattery. It was raw truth. I could feel the weight of his loneliness like it was hanging off his shoulders. It made me sit a little closer without thinking.
“You really that lonely?” I asked, softer this time.
He looked at me again. Not like a dad looking at his daughter. Not exactly. More like a man who hadn’t been seen in a long time finally realizing someone was really looking at him.
“I miss being touched,” he admitted, and the firelight flickered across his face like it was trying to hide the confession. “Not sex. I mean, yeah, sure, that too—but even just… a hand on my back. Someone brushing past me in the hallway. A hug that didn’t feel like an obligation.”
Something about that made my chest ache. I hated picturing him that sad. But part of me—God help me—also liked how honest he was being. It made me want to… reach out.
I slid a little closer, not enough to be obvious. Just enough that our knees brushed.
“You could’ve just said you wanted the sleeping bag all to yourself,” I teased, lips quirking. “This whole sob story is a hell of a way to steal warmth.”
He smiled—small, sad, but real. “Nah. I think… I just didn’t want to sleep alone tonight.”
And suddenly, I wasn’t sure if he meant sleep as in sleep, or if he meant something else. The silence stretched between us like a held breath.
I got changed into just my red panties and a t-shirt, shit forgot to bring my nightie. I guess we are both forgetful. We got into the sleeping bag I could barely move it was so tight.
“Sorry honey, am I too fat,” he said as his leg was flipping freezing.
“No, Daddy, you’re not too fat,” I murmured, pressing myself closer to him in the tight confines of the sleeping bag. “I’m just…warm-blooded, I guess.” I giggled softly, my breath ghosting over his neck. He shifted, trying to give me more room, but only succeeding in pressing his cold leg against my bare thigh. I gasped at the sudden chill, my skin prickling with goosebumps.
“Jesus, you’re like a human ice pack,” I complained, but there was no heat behind my words. I wiggled against him, seeking his warmth.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and into mine. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll warm up soon enough.”
His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel every contour of his body through the thin fabric of my t-shirt and boxers as he spooned me.
His hand rested just under one of my boobs. I could feel the heat of his palm seeping through the cotton of my shirt, branding my skin. His chest pressed against my back, rising and falling with each breath, the rhythm slow and steady.
I wiggled again, not because I was cold, but because I liked the feeling of his body against mine. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hip. I bit my lip, suppressing a moan as a spark of pleasure shot through me.
“You ok, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
“Mmhmm,” I breathed, arching my back slightly, pressing my ass against his crotch. “Just…comfortable.” His breath hitched, and I felt something stir against my buttocks. A slow, growing hardness that made my heart race. I thought about what he was talking about earlier he misses the touch, not sex and then he said well that as well. It sounded like he hasn’t had his dick wet in a long while.
His hardness pressed insistently against my ass, growing with each passing moment. I froze, unsure of what to do. Part of me wanted to pull away, to pretend I hadn’t noticed. But another part, a darker, hungrier part, wanted to press back, to feel him fully.
“Daddy…” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly. “Are you…are you hard?” He stiffened, his breath catching in his throat. For a moment, he was silent, and I thought he might deny it. But then he let out a shuddering sigh, his forehead dropping to my shoulder.
“Fuck, sweetheart… I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice strained. “I didn’t mean to… I’m just… it’s been a long time.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. I should push him away, I knew that. But instead, I found myself arching my back, grinding my ass against his erection.
His breath hitched as I pressed back against him, his hardness throbbing against my ass crack. “Fuck, baby…” he groaned, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. His hand slid up from my hip, his fingers brushing the underside of my breast.
His touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, making my nipple harden instantly. I bit my lip, stifling a moan as he cupped my breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak through the thin fabric of my shirt. “Daddy…” I whimpered, my hips wiggling against his hardness. “What are you doing?”
He hesitated, his hand freezing on my breast. “I…I shouldn’t…” he muttered, but his hips pressed forward again, seeking friction.”You’re my daughter, for fuck’s sake.”
But even as he said it, his hand started moving again, kneading my breast, his thumb circling my nipple. I gasped, my head falling back against his shoulder as pleasure shot through me. “Does it feel good, Daddy?” I asked, my voice breathy and needy. “Touching me like this? By the way, I have had sex I am not a virgin.”
He groaned, his breath hot against my ear. “Fuck, yes… Fuck if you weren’t my daughter right now I would… sorry.”
“Ok, but I’m a little dry down there so you might have to… you know lube up your cock with spit first.” I teased as I pulled my panties down past my ass cheeks. Just enough room for him to slide his cock into me from behind.
He let out a low, guttural groan at the sight of my exposed ass, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. “Jesus fuck, sweetheart…” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. “You’re really gonna let me…? I shouldn’t… oh fuck but I haven’t had a bit of pussy in ages, fuck it.”
I felt him behind me pull his boxer down and I heard him spit, next thing he adjusted my ass cheek. He slightly moved one of my legs so he could enter my pussy.
His thick, spit-lubed cockhead nudged against my entrance, parting my slick folds. I gasped, my back arching as he pressed forward, slowly sinking into my pussy. “Oh fuck, Daddy…” I moaned, my fingers digging into the sleeping bag as he stretched me open. “You’re so big.”
He groaned, his hips trembling as he bottomed out, his balls pressing against my ass. “Fuck, baby… you’re so tight. So fucking perfect,” he panted, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. He started to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, his thick shaft dragging against my sensitive walls. I cried out, my pussy clenching around him as he began to fuck me in earnest.
“Oh god, Daddy… yes!” I moaned, pushing my ass back to meet his thrusts.
His thick cock stretched my tight pussy deliciously as he began to pound into me, his hips slapping against my ass with each powerful thrust.
“Fuck, sweetheart… your cunt feels incredible,” he grunted, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips. “Unnngh. Ahh honey I will go slow as I want this to last a while.”
“Ummm… Ummm dad… ah yeah,” smack smack, his hips slapped hard against my ass cheeks as he pumped me with his full length.
His thick shaft plunged into me, filling me completely. I moaned loudly, my voice echoing through the woods.”Oh fuck, Daddy! Your cock is so big and hard!”
He groaned, his hips moving faster, slamming into me with increasing force.”Fuck, baby… you’re so tight and wet. I can’t believe I’m fucking you.”
I cried out with each thrust, my body shaking with pleasure. “Yes, Daddy! Fuck me harder! I want to feel your big cock in my pussy!”
He obliged, his hips moving like a piston, driving his shaft deep into my core. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixed with our moans and grunts. “Arghh, sweetheart…I’m not gonna last much longer,” he panted, his voice strained. “Your pussy is too fucking good.”
I felt his cock throb inside me, growing even harder.
He sucked in air, “Unngh… I… I am holding back honey. I don’t want to cum yet it feels so good.”
“Ahh…. yes… umm.. umm, if mom won’t pleasure you… I will Dad,” I said heavy breathing as he continued.
He groaned at my words, his hips stuttering for a moment before he resumed his relentless pace. “Fuck, baby… you don’t know what you’re saying,” he panted, his voice thick with lust. “I’m your dad. I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Ahh…Daddy… it’s okay,” I gasped, my voice trembling with pleasure. “I want this. I want you.”
He let out a strangled groan, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. “Fuck, sweetheart… you’re killing me,” he panted, his breath hot against my neck.
His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate as if he was trying to bury himself inside me completely. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted under his breath, his hips moving in a blur. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna fucking cum, baby. I can’t hold back anymore.”
I felt his cock swell inside me, growing even harder and thicker. He let out a loud groan, his body tensing as he reached his peak. “Ahhhh, fuck! Take it, sweetheart! Take my cum!” he shouted, his hips jerking wildly as he emptied himself inside me.
I cried out, my own orgasm crashing over me as I felt his hot seed flooding my pussy. My walls clamped down around him, milking every last drop as waves of pleasure washed through me.
His body shuddered against mine as he came, his thick cock pulsing inside me, filling me with his hot seed. I moaned loudly, my pussy convulsing around him as I rode out my own intense orgasm. “Ahhhh, Daddy!” I cried out, my voice echoing through the woods. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming on your cock!”
He groaned, his hips jerking with each spurt of cum. “Fuck, baby…so good… so fucking good,” he panted, his voice strained. His hands gripped my hips tightly, holding me in place as he emptied himself completely inside me.
He collapsed against me, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. I could feel his heart pounding against my back, his sweat-slicked skin sticking to mine. His softening cock was still buried inside me, twitching occasionally as the last remnants of his orgasm subsided. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “That was… fuck, I can’t believe we just did that.”
I turned my head to look at him, a lazy smile on my face. “Believe it,” I said, my voice still breathy. “And it was amazing.”
He stared at me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. Then he leaned in, pressing his forehead against my shoulder. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my skin. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve to be happy, Dad,” I said softly, my thumb brushing over his lips. “And so do I. We better get some sleep, going to leave your dick in me all night.”
His softening cock slipped out of me as I rolled over to face him, our faces inches apart. The sleeping bag rustled as I settled on my side, my leg thrown over his hip. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his pupils dilated with satisfaction.
“I never thought I’d say this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “but I’m glad I forgot that sleeping bag.” I smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest.
“Me too,” I whispered. “Me too.”
His arm tightened around me, pulling me closer. I nestled into his warmth, my head tucked under his chin. “Sleep, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of my head. “I’ll keep you safe.”
As I drifted off, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. For the first time in a long time, I felt seen. Understood. Loved. And as I sank into sleep, I knew that no matter what happened tomorrow, tonight had been worth it.