The cool mountain air wrapped around me like a gentle embrace as I sat on the porch of our family cabin, the wooden boards creaking softly beneath my weight. My long blonde hair cascaded down my back, catching the faint breeze as I gazed out at the serene lake before us. The water sparkled in the fading light, its surface reflecting the vibrant hues of the sky as the sun dipped lower. It had been two weeks since my breakup with Jake, and the wound still felt raw, like an open sore I couldn’t stop picking at.
Dad had suggested this camping trip to take my mind off things, and to spend some quality time together, just the two of us. I was grateful for it. He’d always been my rock, my confidant, and right now, I needed him more than ever. The thought of being alone in the city, surrounded by memories of Jake, was unbearable. Here, in the mountains, it was just us, the wilderness, and the occasional chirp of a bird to break the silence.
He stepped out of the cabin with two beers in hand, the condensation glistening in the golden light of the setting sun. “Cheers, Kirsty,” he said, handing me one and clinking his bottle against mine. “To new beginnings.” His voice was warm and reassuring, and I couldn’t help but smile weakly, taking a sip. The cool beer slid down my throat, soothing some of the tension in my chest. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate you bringing me out here.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the occasional chirp of a bird or the rustle of leaves in the wind. The sun dipped lower, painting the horizon in warm hues of orange and pink. It was beautiful, but it also made me think of Jake. He’d always loved sunsets, and now, every time I saw one, it felt like a pang in my heart. I glanced at Dad, who was watching the horizon, his expression thoughtful. I knew he could see the sadness in me, but he didn’t push. He just let me be, which is exactly what I needed.
After a while, Dad stood up, breaking the spell. “I’m going to grab some more beers from the cooler. Want another?” I nodded, taking another sip. “Sure, why not?” The alcohol was warming me from the inside out, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a lightness in my chest, like I could finally breathe again.
He returned with a six-pack and sat back down beside me. As the night wore on and the beers kept coming, I felt myself relaxing more and more. The world around me began to blur slightly, and my thoughts grew foggy, but in a good way. I was letting go, letting the weight of my heartache lift, if only for a little while. We talked more now, laughing at Dad’s silly jokes. He’d always had a way of making me laugh, even on my worst days. I leaned against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. “You know, Dad,” I said, my words slurring just a little, “I’m really glad it’s just you and me out here. I needed this.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “I’m glad too, Kirsty. You’re my girl, and I’m always here for you, no matter what.” I looked up at him, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I love you, Dad.” “I love you too, baby girl,” he replied, his voice filled with emotion. “Your mom would have been proud of you.”
As the night wore on, the beers kept flowing, and before I knew it, the world around me was spinning. Dad lit a fire outside, and we sat in front of it, our bodies pressed close together for warmth. The flames danced and crackled, casting flickering shadows across our faces. I was safe here, with him, and that thought alone made me feel better. The fire’s heat soaked into my skin, and the alcohol made me feel brave, like I could say anything without worrying about the consequences.
Eventually, the night wore on, and my eyelids began to droop. “I think it’s time for bed,” Dad said, standing up and holding out a hand to help me up. I took it, my legs wobbly beneath me. “So drunk I can’t even walk straight,” I giggled, stumbling a little. Dad chuckled, steadying me. “Let me help you, princess.”
We made our way to the tent, and I flopped down onto the sleeping bag, my head spinning. “So drunk I can’t even get changed,” I said, laughing. “Wait, there’s only one sleeping bag,” Dad said, looking around. I struggled to sit up, my tight jeans digging into my waist. “Y-you can’t… can’t not sleep without… without a sleeping bag, silly,” I slurred, trying to undo my jeans but finding it impossible.
“I’ll be fine,” Dad said, though I could hear the hesitation in his voice. “No,” I said, hiccupping. “We’ll just have to squeeze in.” He hesitated for a moment before helping me. As he tried to assist me with my clothes, his hand accidentally brushed against the underside of my breasts. He blushed immediately, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Dad, you’re so silly,” I said, patting his arm. “It’s okay, honest. I’m sure you felt Mom’s plenty of times.”
“Yeah, but not yours,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to, but… you’re just so grown up, Kirsty,” he said, his voice low. “You look so good, honey.” I rolled my eyes playfully. “Ha ha, you’re a man. It’s fine, honest. Dad, I… I can’t even undo my… my jeans,” I muttered, struggling with the zipper. “These stupid tight jeans are killing me.”
Dad sighed and helped me finally out of them, his eyes flickering over me as I changed into my short red nightie. I could feel his gaze on me, but I didn’t mind. There was nothing sexual about it, just a father’s pride in how beautiful his daughter had become. “Thanks, Dad,” I said, hugging him tightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out, Kirsty,” he replied, hugging me back. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
As we settled into the sleeping bag together, the warmth of the fire outside and the warmth of his body beside me, I felt a deep sense of comfort. We had to lay on our sides to both fit into it, as it was a tight squeeze. My back faced him, and as I shifted to get comfortable, I accidentally pressed against him. He let out a low, gravelly moan, and I froze. “Keep still, don’t be getting your dad all worked up, please,” he whispered, his voice strained.
“I was getting comfy,” I said, my voice slurred. “You like it, huh? Bet you miss Mom if you know what I mean. I can help if you want to.” The words spilled out before I could stop them, and I immediately regretted them. But when I looked back at him, I saw something in his eyes I hadn’t expected—something raw and unguarded.
“Sweetie, you have no idea,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I miss her… and it… so much. You feel… don’t stop,” he pleaded his hand on my hips rocking me against him, his breath hot against my neck. I wriggled slowly, unsure of what I was doing, but driven by a mixture of drunken curiosity and a desire to comfort him. He moaned again, louder this time, and kissed my neck as I moved against him. It felt wrong, but it also felt… right, in some strange, twisted way I was wet. He moaned more as I pressed into him tighter, the outline of my pussy rubbed into his boxers against his length.
Dad’s hand slid up my thigh, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin. I shivered at his touch, a jolt of electricity running through me. “Kirsty,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “God you need to stop doing that against me, I…”
I rolled my ass more against his badly strained cock, not sure what as come over me. I knew he hadn’t had action in years, he has helped me so much. So now it was my turn to help him and what’s the best way to help a man. Sex.
I slid my nightie up to my waist and slid my knickers down to my thighs. “Go on dad, honest. Help yourself, your so hard you need to let out that built up frustration.”
Omg he didn’t need to be asked twice, I felt him shift behind me and him lower his boxers. Dad’s cock pressed against my pussy lips from behind, and I felt a shiver run through me. I was drunk, but I knew what I was doing. I wanted this, wanted to help him, to make him feel good. “Go on, Dad,” I whispered, my voice thick with desire. “It’s okay, I want this.”
He hesitated for a moment, but then I felt him push forward, his cock sliding into me with a wet squelch. I gasped at the sensation, my pussy stretching to accommodate him. He was bigger than I expected, and it hurt a little, but it also felt good, really good. “Fuck, Kirsty,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips tightly. “I shouldn’t be doing this, your my daughter. Oh fuck your pussy feels good.”
Dad’s cock slid into my tight wet pussy, the feeling of him filling me up was incredible. I’d never felt so full, so stretched before. I could feel every inch of him as he slowly thrust in and out, his hands gripping my hips tightly. The sounds of our bodies coming together filled the tent, a wet, squelching noise that made me shiver with pleasure.
“Oh God, Dad,” I moaned, my voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so good inside me.” I could feel his breath hot against my neck, his lips brushing against my skin as he kissed and nibbled, sending shivers down my spine. My bum smacking against him as he picked up speed shagging me harder.
“Yes baby, your taking daddy good.” He moaned as he never stopped pumping my pussy.
“More, Dad,” I whispered, my voice breathless. “Fuck me harder.”
He obliged, slamming into me with renewed force, his cock hitting deeper with each thrust. It was intense, overwhelming in the best way possible, and I could feel a pressure building inside me. “Yes, Dad!” I cried out, the pleasure coursing through me. “Don’t stop!”
“Kirsty, oh Kirsty,” he groaned, his voice like a rumble of thunder, low and full of want. “You’re so tight… so perfect.” He gripped my hips tighter, pulling me back into him, the slap of his balls against my thighs echoing with every pounding motion. The wet slapping noise, the squelch of his dick in my cunt, was like music to my ears, making my heart race with a forbidden thrill.
“Dad, yes!” I gasped, my words punctuated by the sharp intakes of breath as he filled me again and again. “Your cock… it’s so big inside me.”
“I can’t believe… I’m in my little girl,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion, but his body didn’t stop. Each thrust was a statement of need, a confession of his pent-up longing. His hands roamed, massaging my tits through the thin fabric, squeezing gently as his cock kept a relentless pace.
I reached back, my fingers finding his hair, gripping tight as he thrust deeper. “Harder, Dad,” I urged, the rawness of my need matching his. “I want all of it.” My own moans grew louder, mingling with his grunts, the sounds of our lust bouncing off the tent’s canvas walls.
He obliged, his pace quickening, his cock ramming into my pussy with a fervor that made the sleeping bag rustle beneath us. Every slap of skin, every wet Schlick as he drove in, made me quiver. “Like this, baby?” he asked, his words a growl against my ear, his body pressed flush against my back.
“Yes, Dad… Just like that!” I cried out, feeling the coil of pleasure tightening in my belly. His hand slid down, his fingers finding my clit, circling with a firmness that matched his thrusts. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” I begged, the sensation of his rod plunging into my wetness nearly sending me over the edge.
“Yes baby, fuck. Are you…” he stopped as he panted and moaned as he kept rutting into me harder. “Are you… on the pill.”
“Am I on the pill?” I echoed, the words barely out before he grunted in response, his pace not faltering for a second. “Yes, Dad, I am. Don’t you dare stop,” I urged, the alcohol buzzing in my head like a daredevil’s rush, my voice dripping with need.
I lay there in the tight sleeping bag, my body still trembling from the intensity of it all. Dad’s cock was buried deep inside my dripping pussy, stretching me wide, and the heat of him against my back was like a fire I couldn’t escape. My breath came in short, ragged gasps as he pounded into me, his thick shaft throbbing with every thrust. The wet, sloppy sound of him fucking me hard filled the tent, mixing with his low, guttural groans and my own desperate moans.
“Fuck, Dad, you’re so deep,” I whimpered, my voice shaking as I arched my back, pushing my ass harder against him. His hands gripped my hips like a vice, fingers digging into my soft flesh, pulling me back to meet every brutal thrust. My pussy was soaked, my juices dripping down my thighs, slicking up the side of my panties still bunched around my knees. The fabric rubbed against his cock as he slid in and out, adding this dirty little friction that made me shiver.
“Goddamn, Kirsty,” he growled, his hot breath blasting against my neck. “Your tight little cunt’s sucking me in so good. You’re taking Daddy’s cock like a champ.” His words were filthy, raw, and they sent a jolt straight to my throbbing clit. I could feel it pulsing, swollen and sensitive, begging for more as he kept slamming into me.
“Harder, Dad, please,” I begged, my voice a needy whine. “Fuck me like you mean it.” My tits bounced under my nightie with every rough thrust, the thin red fabric sliding up higher, exposing my hard nipples to the cool air. I reached back, grabbing his ass, urging him deeper, my nails digging into his skin.
He let out a deep, rumbling moan, his pace picking up, his cock ramming into my wet gash with a force that made my whole body shake. “Like this, baby girl?” he rasped, his voice thick with lust. “You want Daddy to fuck you raw?” His balls slapped against my thighs, loud and wet, the sound driving me wild as my pussy clenched around him.
“Yes, yes, oh fuck, yes!” I cried out, my head spinning from the booze and the pleasure. His cock was rock hard, pulsing inside me, stretching my slick slit so wide I could feel every vein, every ridge. My pussy juice coated him, dripping down to soak the sleeping bag beneath us, and the musky smell of sex filled the tent, thick and heady.
He shifted, one hand sliding up to grab my tit, squeezing it hard through the nightie. “These tits, Kirsty,” he groaned, pinching my nipple between his fingers. “So fucking perfect.” His other hand dipped down, fingers finding my clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles. I gasped, my body jolting as sparks shot through me, my dripping hole tightening around his shaft.
“Oh, Dad, I’m gonna—” I couldn’t even finish, my words turning into a loud, shuddering moan as he fucked me harder, his fingers teasing my clit relentlessly. “Cum for me, baby,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “Let Daddy feel that sweet pussy cum all over his cock.”
That was it. The pressure inside me snapped, and I screamed, my body convulsing as my orgasm hit like a tidal wave. My pussy clamped down on him, pulsing and quivering, my juices gushing out, soaking his cock and thighs. “Fuck, Dad, yes!” I wailed, my voice echoing in the tent, my hips bucking wildly against him.
He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, just kept pounding into me, his groans getting louder, more desperate. “Shit, Kirsty, you’re so wet,” he panted, his cock throbbing harder inside me. “I’m gonna cum, baby girl. You want Daddy’s load in your tight little cunt?”
“Yes, Dad, fill me up,” I moaned, still trembling from my climax, my pussy aching for his release. He thrust deep one last time, a primal grunt tearing from his throat as his cock pulsed, hot cum shooting into me. I felt it, thick and sticky, flooding my channel, mixing with my own slickness as he kept pumping, milking every drop into me.
We stayed like that, panting, his cock still buried in my swollen, dripping pussy, his arms wrapped tight around me. “Fuck, Kirsty,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “That was… goddamn incredible. I am so sorry for talking so dirty while we did it. I… I don’t know what the hell came over me.”
I lay there in the sleeping bag, my body still buzzing from the wild, forbidden rush of what we’d just done. Dad’s arms were wrapped around me, his chest pressed against my back, his breath slowing as the heat of his cum trickled down my thighs, sticky and warm. The tent was thick with the musky scent of sex—sweat, pussy juice, and that raw, earthy smell of him. My heart pounded, not just from the intensity of it all, but from something deeper stirring inside me.
“Dad,” I whispered, my voice soft but steady despite the booze still swimming in my head. “You don’t have to apologize. I… I wanted that. I needed it too.” I shifted a little, feeling his softening cock slip out of me, leaving a wet trail along my swollen lips. The sensation made me shiver, and I pressed back against him, craving that closeness.
He let out a shaky breath, his hand resting on my hip, fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin. “Kirsty, honey,” he said, his voice rough but tender. “I never thought… shit, I never imagined I’d feel you like that. It’s wrong, but fuck, it felt so right.” He kissed the back of my neck, soft and slow, his lips lingering there like he was savoring me.
I turned my head slightly, catching his eyes in the dim glow of the dying fire outside. They were dark, heavy with emotion—guilt, desire, and something else I couldn’t quite name. “Dad, you’ve always been there for me,” I said, my words spilling out raw and honest. “Through Jake, through everything. I wanted to give you something back. And… I liked it. A lot.” My cheeks flushed as I admitted it, but I didn’t look away.
He groaned low, almost a growl, and pulled me tighter against him. “You’re too good to me, baby girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to cup my breast through the nightie, his thumb brushing over my hard nipple. “I haven’t felt this alive in years. Not since your mom…” His voice cracked, and I felt a pang in my chest—not just lust, but love, deep and unshakable.
I rolled over to face him, the sleeping bag rustling as I moved. My bare thighs brushed against his, slick with our mess, and I didn’t care. I reached up, cupping his face in my hands, feeling the stubble under my palms. “Mom would want you to be happy, Dad,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion. “And I want that too. Maybe this… us… it’s not what people expect, but it’s ours. It’s real.”
His eyes softened, glistening in the faint light, and he leaned in, kissing me slow and deep. It wasn’t rushed or hungry like before—this was different, full of meaning. His lips were warm, tasting faintly of beer and salt, and I melted into him, my heart swelling. “Kirsty,” he whispered against my mouth, “you’re my everything. I don’t deserve you, but I’ll take every damn second you give me.”
I smiled, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, and nestled closer, my head resting against his chest. His heartbeat thumped steady and strong beneath my cheek, a rhythm that felt like home. “Then take it, Dad,” I said softly. “Take all of me. I’m not going anywhere.”
He wrapped his arms around me, holding me like he’d never let go, and in that moment, the world outside the tent faded away. The lake, the mountains, the pain of Jake—all of it dissolved into the warmth of us, tangled together in that sleeping bag. It wasn’t just about the sex, though that had been fucking incredible. It was about healing, about finding something new in each other, something that stitched up the holes life had torn in us both.
The fire outside crackled faintly, its glow dying down as the night stretched on. I felt his breathing even out, his body relaxing against mine, and I knew he was drifting off. “I love you, Dad,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper as sleep tugged at me too.
“Love you too, Kirsty,” he mumbled back, his voice thick with exhaustion and contentment. “Always will.”
And as I closed my eyes, the cool mountain air seeping through the tent, I felt it—a peace I hadn’t known in weeks, maybe years. Whatever this was, whatever we’d started, it wasn’t just a drunken mistake. It was a bond, messy and beautiful, that tied us tighter than ever. The future was uncertain, but right then, with him holding me close, I knew we’d figure it out together. And that was enough.