Camping with Dad & sharing the blanket leads to more than sleep

The predawn silence of my room was disrupted by the alarm I had set the night before. Today was the day Dad and I were supposed to reconnect, an attempt to find solace in nature and each other’s company. The weight of expectation sat heavily on my chest as I made my way to the shower, the warm cascade of water doing little to wash away my apprehensions.

I got dressed in a short T-shirt and a black skirt, I was packing the last of my essentials when my phone buzzed—a text from my boyfriend, expressing a last-minute wish to join us. I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the keypad. “I need this time with Dad,” I texted back, hoping my words would bridge the gap my decision had created.

The car ride with Dad was a mix of silence and small talk, an unspoken agreement to ease into the day. The campsite was a picture of serenity, a stark contrast to the turmoil that lay beneath our attempts at normalcy.

As we set up the tent and gathered around the campfire, the ease of the task brought a semblance of normalcy to our strained relationship. But it was the conversation that night that tore down the walls we had built around ourselves.

“Dad,” I ventured, my voice barely rising above the crackle of the fire, “are you and Mom okay? I mean, really okay?”

He sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of untold stories. “Kara, it’s…complicated. More than you know.”

The fire flickered, casting shadows over his face as he continued, “She doesn’t want to be close anymore. Not in the way I need her to be.”

I felt a pang of empathy, my own heart aching for the pain in his voice. “I’m so sorry, Dad. That must be really hard.”

As the night drew on, a careless oversight came to light—Dad had forgotten the sleeping bags. “Oh no, how could I forget…” he muttered, disappointment lacing his tone.

“It’s okay, Dad. There’s a big blanket in the back. We can share it,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Before we settled down I got changed, I took off my shirt and skirt and put on a long shirt for bed. Dad entered the tent he then took off his pants and top as he got into the blankets and so did I.

Under the blanket, the cold of the night pressed against us, a stark reminder of our situation. Lying side by side, I faced away from him, feeling his arm wrap around me. It was a gesture of comfort, a remnant of times when life was simpler.

“Dad?” I whispered into the darkness.

“Yes, Kara?”

“I want you to know, whatever happens with Mom, you’re not alone. I’m here, always.”

His hold tightened slightly, a silent acknowledgement of my words. “Thank you, Kara. That means everything to me.”

The intensity of our situation, and the raw honesty of our conversation, filled the tent. We talked about fears, hopes, and the uncertain future, our words weaving a stronger bond between us.

As I lay in the tent, the warmth of the fire slowly lulling me into a peaceful slumber, I suddenly felt something hard pressing against my backside. My eyes shot open in shock as I realized it was my own father’s erection. I could feel the stickiness of his boxers against my skin, making me feel uncomfortable.

“Dad, what’s going on?” I whispered, trying to ignore the sticky wetness seeping through his boxers.

“I’m sorry, Kara. It’s just…it’s been a while since I’ve had sex and being so close to you, it’s hard to control myself, oh I am the worst dad ever,” he confessed, his eyes avoiding mine.

I felt a twinge of pity for him. It had been years since he and Mom had been intimate, and I couldn’t imagine the frustration and tension building up inside him. I wanted to reassure him, to tell him it was okay, but before I could speak, he continued.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’ll try to control myself, I am sorry sweetie, I am embarrassed,” he said, pulling away slightly.

But I couldn’t leave him in this state. I couldn’t bear to see him suffer. So I lifted my nightshirt a little, allowing him more access and wriggled my ass against his erection. His moan was enough to tell me he needed this release.

“Go ahead, Dad. It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to reassure him. I took off my knickers.

He looked at me with shock and hesitation, but eventually, he pulled out his cock from his boxers and slid it inside me from behind.

“Oh, Dad, Mmm, fuck,” I moaned, my eyes rolling back in pleasure, his cock felt huge.

He pounded into me, his grunts and groans filling the tent. I could feel every inch of him as he thrust in and out, his cock pounding deep in my pussy. It was intense, raw, and exactly what he needed.

“Fuck, you feel so good, I shouldn’t be doing this with you,” he grunted, his hand gripping my ass tightly as he picked up speed. It felt weird letting my dad have sex with me, but Mom wouldn’t give him it.

“Harder, Dad. Please,” I begged, my own desire taking over as he went even faster.

He pounded into me with all his pent-up frustration and need, and I let out a loud moan as his cock just pounded me very deep.

“Your cock feels so good inside me, Dad. It’s bigger than my boyfriend’s, oh fucking hell Dad mmmmmm,” I moaned, my body arching to meet his every thrust.

“Well, my dick is bigger than most boys your age, Shit I missed sex but I shouldn’t mmmmm fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this with you,” he grunted, his pace increasing as we both neared our climax.

He kept pounding into me, his cock hitting all the right spots, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I clenched around him, my orgasm hitting me like a wave. “Oh Dad, fuck, fuck, mmmmmmm,” I said as I felt my juices gush down his cock. He continued to thrust into me, has his grunting got louder as his skin slapped against mine as he pumped me HARD.

“Argh, Fuck, Kara, I’m about to cum,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, omg the pounding was so overwhelming and strong.

“Mmmmm, mmmm, FUCKING hell, oooh my pussy,” I moaned, my body by the side of him as he continued to pound into me from behind with force. I couldn’t help but reach down and start rubbing my clit, my body on fire with need. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through me, and I had to bite down on my lip to stifle my screams.

With one final deep thrust and huge slam, as he hammered me fucking hard, he let out a loud grunt as he came, spurt after spurt filling me up. He slid his cock out of me and I turned to face him.

As we lay there, catching our breath, I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I had just had sex with my own father, and it was the most intense experience of my life. But as I looked at him, his expression filled with guilt and shame, I knew it was something we could never repeat.

“Kara, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice heavy with regret.

“Stop it, It’s okay, Dad. You needed it, I offered as I wanted to help you because I love you,” I reassured him, not wanting him to feel any worse.

He pulled me close, holding me tightly as we both drifted off to sleep. The weight of our secret would always be present, but in that moment, we had found comfort and release in each other’s arms.

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