We went for a little family camping trip. I rented two tents, one for me, my wife, Sylvie, and the other for my daughter, Vicky and her boyfriend, Rick.
It was nice getting out of the house and into nature, especially after being cooped up for so long. The fresh air felt almost decadently refreshing, like a cold drink on a scorching day, hitting us right in the face as soon as we hopped out of the old Chevy.
And the trees! Gigantic, Stoic, with their leaves rustling softly in the wind, a gentle murmur of reassurance that yes, the world was still spinning, still alive. The forest, with all its wild, untouched beauty, was a sight to behold, alright.
The first night was uneventful, just your typical campfire shenanigans with charred hot dogs, burnt marshmallows, and ghost stories that made Vicky shriek and clutch onto Rick’s arm. We laughed so hard our stomachs hurt, eyes watering, as if we’d been bottled up for ages and now everything was just spilling out.
We spent the next day hiking. I won’t lie, it wasn’t easy. The trail was rough, uneven, the kind of path that made you question your life choices. But we trudged on, each of us nursing aches and pains that we never knew existed. Rick even slipped on a moss-covered rock and nearly tumbled into a stream, but luckily Sylvie, with her quick reflexes, caught him in time.
By the time we got back to the camp, we were wiped out. We went for bathes in groups, girls upstream, and us men downstream. The river’s cold water felt incredible on our sweaty, grimy bodies. Rick and I jumped in, splashing around like a couple of schoolboys, washing off the day’s dust and sweat. We climbed out, our skin tingling from the chill, teeth chattering, but feeling more alive than ever.
When we got back again, it was already getting dark. The girls are already back, and I said goodnight to Rick then just went into my tent. I was almost instantly out like a light, sprawled out on the camping mat, not even bothering to slip into my sleeping bag. I vaguely remember Sylvie entering the tent, murmuring something about a wild family of raccoons she had spotted near the trash bins. But her voice was distant, fading, as if it came from another world. I was too exhausted to respond.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, I woke up to a hand jerking my cock. Someone’s naughty, I thought, and just let Sylvie do her thing. Judging by the faint wet sound, she was doing it to herself, too. I let out a low groan, reaching out to cup her cheek, the rhythm of her strokes matching my quickening breath.
Her face and her hand, felt different tonight. She was smooth, her touch sensuous, but there was a hint of unfamiliarity in the way her fingers moved. My drowsy mind just thought that it had something to do with the minerals in the river or something. It happened before, when she used some new lotion or oil, and it felt different for a while. I couldn’t be bothered to think too much about it, though. The sensations were too pleasurable, too consuming, to let any doubts cloud my mind.
She was oddly in the mood, strange, considering she was exhausted when we settled into the tent earlier. But who was I to question it? It was a welcome surprise, and she hadn’t been this spontaneous since… forever. As Sylvie continued her ministrations, I reached down to play with her nipples. The position and the firmness, all felt off. She let out some soundless moans, clearly afraid that someone might overhear us. But the fear of being caught only added to the excitement, fuelling our passion.
She straddled me when she couldn’t take the tease anymore, sinking down onto me with an eager sigh. The unfamiliarity of her movements hit me again; she moved with an energy and gusto that was new, different. She rode me, her body moving rhythmically in the dark, a symphony of sighs and muffled moans punctuating the otherwise silent night.
As the pleasure built, I held her hips, guiding her in this delicious dance we were performing. But her hips, they felt different too, more robust, firm. My hands travelled up, exploring her body, trying to make sense of this strange new feeling.
“Fuck… Rick…” Her moans in my ear, jolted me awake. A shiver ran down my spine and I froze. That wasn’t Sylvie’s voice, it was Vicky.
“What the fuck,” I sat up, and fumbled to turn on my phone’s flashlight. In the crude, wavering light of my phone, I found myself staring not at Sylvie’s face but Vicky’s, her eyes wide, mouth open, caught like a deer in headlights. A beat passed and then two, each more awkward and uncomfortable than the last.
“Dad?” Her voice was small, scared, her eyes darting to the side, unable to meet my gaze. There was a strange mix of guilt and fear painted on her face that made my stomach drop.
The silence stretched, hung between us like an enormous, insurmountable wall. The only sound in the small tent was our heavy breathing, the occasional rustling of the sleeping bag, and the distant hooting of an owl somewhere in the forest.
“Vicky… Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing?” I managed to sputter out, feeling like I was in some messed up nightmare.
“What… why the hell are you in my tent?” she whispered back.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words. This was my tent, wasn’t it? I looked around, and it was indeed my tent, with mine and Sylvie’s belongings and all. She must have been just as out of it as I was to end up in the wrong tent.
“Shit.” She sighed, when she realized her mistake. “I didn’t realize… I thought this was our… Damn, this is so embarrassing.”
A thick wave of relief washed over me, loosening the knot in my stomach. It was just a mix-up, an awkward, uncomfortable mix-up. I had to keep reminding myself of that, as I stared at my dishevelled daughter, our faces only lit by the dim light of my phone screen.
I suddenly felt her walls tense up, and I realized that we were still joined in a profoundly inappropriate way. She let out a soft moan, but strangely, didn’t pull off me. Her hands splayed on my chest when she tentatively moved her hips again, then resumed her grinding.
“What are you doing, Vicky?” I panted at the sensation, she somehow felt tighter than before.
She paused for a moment, her hands still on my chest. The tension was palpable. The silence in the tent was loud, only the faint chirping of a distant cricket echoing outside, its steady rhythm filling the uneasy quietness.
“I… I mean I’m already here, might as well finish, right?” she finally admitted, and her movement quickened as she was back in the mood again.
I shook my head, trying to clear it, trying to make sense of this absolutely bonkers situation. A surge of panic rose within me. This was wrong on so many levels. But before I could speak, before I could formulate any sort of coherent response, Vicky pressed her finger against my lips, her eyes searching mine.
“Dad… please…” she whispered, her cheeks flushing with what I assumed was embarrassment or maybe fear. Or was it excitement? I couldn’t tell, “It’s weird enough already, don’t make this even weirder. I… I’m… close.”
She ground down against me with a determined grit, her eyes locked on mine, the tension in the tent almost palpable. I was completely and utterly frozen. There was a question in her gaze, a plea of sorts. “Please,” she whispered again, her grip tightening on me. She was trembling, her face flushed and breathy, a pleading note lingering in her voice. “Just… this one time… and we will never talk about it… just… once…”
My mind was spinning, every instinct screaming at me that this was wrong, that I needed to stop this, that I should pull her off and get her out of the tent. But the words died on my lips, replaced by a guttural moan as she rode me harder, her body writhing above mine.
There was a part of me that wanted to push her off, to yell at her, to make her understand the gravity of the situation. But another part of me, the baser part, was enjoying it. I could feel the waves of pleasure rippling through me, edging me closer to the brink. It was a struggle to maintain my sanity amidst the storm of sensations threatening to wash me away.
“Just once,” I gripped her hip, and thrust up to meet her rhythm. This is all just a weird dream, I thought.
“Yes… yes… dad… like that…” her inner muscle clamped down on me, sending waves of pleasure that shook me to my core. Her rhythm faltered, then picked up again, uneven and needy.
Everything blurred as we teetered on the brink of climax, our bodies moving together in a dance that was as old as time. The sound of her moans, the way she bit her lip in concentration, the way her body trembled above mine… it all made for a vision that was simultaneously horrifying and exhilarating.
She came once, but she wanted more, and I indulged her. She lay on her back and put my sleeping bag under her hips, “I love this position,” said she, some information that I didn’t really need, or want, to know, but apparently at this moment she felt compelled to share.
“Great,” I mumbled, not sure how to respond, feeling the weight of what we were about to do fully pressing on my conscience. There was an awkward silence before she spread her legs wider, beckoning me with a quick flick of her eyes.
I positioned myself between her thighs, my heart pounding as I entered her once again. The feel of her body against mine was strange, yet undeniably arousing. She was young, after all, and after 25 years with Sylvie, it was the first time I did it with another woman, let alone my own flesh and blood.
She gasped as I moved inside her, her eyes glazed over with raw lust. It felt wrong, it felt dirty, but the raw animalistic desire coursing through my veins at that moment was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.
“I… I want… inside me…” she panted out, her eyes pleading with me, her fingers clawing into my back, encouraging me, urging me on.
My response was nothing but a guttural groan, my mind reeling at the enormity of her words. But her moans, her pleading, the sensation of her wrapped tightly around me… it was all too much. The heady mix of guilt and lust was overwhelming, intoxicating.
With each thrust, I could feel my control slipping away. Each gasp she let out, every quiver of her body against mine, every encouraging word whispered in my ear, it all added fuel to the growing fire within me.
Finally, with one last shuddering gasp, I exploded inside her. The world went white around the edges as my senses became completely overwhelmed. A strange, guttural noise erupted from deep within me as waves of pleasure coursed through every fibre of my being.
The next few moments were a blur. She lay beneath me, panting heavily, a look of satisfaction and confusion etched on her face. I rolled off her, my mind a slurry of conflicting emotions.
We got dressed, and both dozed off to sleep, too tired to have some heart-to-heart. As the sun rose, a beam of light peeked through the small opening of the tent, painting us in a soft golden hue. My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring at the roof of the tent. The events of last night came crashing down on me like a tidal wave.
I got out of the tent, and there they were, making breakfast and joking about how we all “didn’t realize the switch up until we got up”.
“You slept well, dad?” Vicky winked at me.
“Like a baby.” I smiled, and my cock twitched.