I don't know when it happened, but suddenly,
there she was.
She was no longer the hyper child who used to draw on the walls and tried to hide the evidence by burying markers under her pillow. She wasn't even the softball-playing kid who flashed a big smile after delivering another hit. Hell, she passed the stage of the awkward teenager in glasses who looked at me nervously in the rear-view mirror as I chaperoned her on her first date.
No, as we piled into my Subaru for the drive home, Vicky was no longer a child at all. She was 19, a rising sophomore at North Carolina State, and headed on a path to pre-law. Even though her mom's infidelity had ultimately led to my marriage falling apart over the last year, Vicky still wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps and be a lawyer. Of course, as she reminded me a few times, she would stop short of breaking my heart before she fully transformed into her mother.
It was hard not to compare the two even without knowing their mutual interest in practicing the law. Vicky looked like a younger version of Gina. I met her mother in college myself. I was never as smart as Gina, but she took a liking to me and we hit it off. I counted my blessings that she did because Gina checked off nearly every box for my ideal woman. She was funny, witty, and willing to laugh at my stupid jokes. Physically,
fuck
, she was - and largely still is - perfect. I always preferred women who weren't skinny twigs and Gina was definitely not. Some might say she bordered on thick, though I preferred the description of "built to fuck." She had strong thighs that perfectly wrapped around my head as I went down on her. My hands would often grip her - in her own words - "fat ass." As they moved to travel up her tummy, they would find her large breasts that she often tried to hide in fancy dress suits. They were both topped with the most suckable nipples. They sagged more as her age increased, but were still quite a marvel. She has plump lips, beautiful brown eyes, and dark hair that was often cut shoulder-length and professionally.
To put it mildly - I missed exploring her body regularly.
Her daughter seemed to be cloned largely from her DNA. She blossomed late, but rapidly. On more than one occasion, I found out expensive bras that her mom bought her had to be replaced by even larger ones. It wasn't until a trip to the beach last summer after her high school graduation - our last great vacation as a family - that I saw just how much she resembled her mother. Her breasts weren't quite as large as her mother's, but she hadn't birthed a child yet either. Her statuesque body was ridiculed by a few clueless boys during her youth, but her mom wouldn't let her engage in body-shaming. As a result, she wore her few extra pounds proudly in a bikini that had me thinking unpure thoughts.
Did she shave like her mother? Did she like her asshole played with like her mother? Did she enjoy a facial like her mother?
Those thoughts both led to immense guilt and an amazing fuck session later that evening with Gina. Later, during arguments, she mentioned how if I regularly shown the same passion for her that I had showed at the beach, maybe she wouldn't have been so easily convinced to fuck one of the younger assistant attorneys at the firm. I didn't know what to say. I mean, how do you explain that you were so excited because you were thinking about your daughter instead?
"All ready, Dad?"
Vicky's question ended my reverie and I told her, "let's roll."
It was a six-hour trip back home. Because of her age, after the divorce, she could pick where she wanted to stay and she made it clear she wanted to stay with me for the summer. Her mother moved out of the house we once shared - and paid off early - and lived in a new housing division about 15 minutes away. I took some small enjoyment as Vicky told me of my ex-wife's disappointment in her choice.
I smiled at that memory as I drove down the road. My Subaru is not a new Outback by any means. I've always been the type to not replace things until absolutely necessary. I'm handy enough with a car to handle most small repairs and one of my life-long friends owns a car shop for bigger projects. Besides, college tuition isn't free and sure, Gina makes a boatload at her practice and I do okay managing the furniture factory I started at 20 years ago, but I grew up poor and the memories of what we had to do just to get by made me very cautious to spend when I didn't have to.
We were roughly three hours into our ride home when I felt the car start to vibrate. I could hear my ex-wife in my head berate me for the same shit that bugged her during the times I drove long distances. I took back roads when possible - never liked the interstates or highways - and we were in the middle of nowhere as the car began to putter. I barely got it pulled off the road before it died with a whimper. Gina wouldn't miss an opportunity to say "I told you so" if she ever found out about this.
For a few seconds, both Vicky and I were quiet. I tried the key a few times to no avail.
"Well, this sucks," Vicky said with a half-smile.
I had to concur as I climbed out. Popping the hood, I tried to look for the culprit, but this looked above my pay grade. Even worse, we had a packed car and only forest surrounding us. Checking our cell phones, we had no reception in this rural expanse.
I always kept a map in the car and there looked to be a town 10 miles north. Telling Vicky that if we kept walking that way, we were bound to get some cell phone reception and get some help, we locked up the car and began our journey. A few times, we saw cars pass but none seemed willing to stop. Of more concern was the darkening sky and thunder in the distance.
Finally, the tree line ended and we saw fields of farmland. The first rain drops fell as we checked our phones. Still no reception. We could see the storm rolling in and we would be hit with it in a matter of minutes, maybe less. While it was still a warm day, I wasn't anxious to walk through the rain in a lightning storm.
"Dad, what about that barn?" Vicky yelled over the wind that was beginning to pick up. Looking the way she pointed, I noticed a small, rundown barn about 50 yards away. It looked like it had been up since the Great Depression. Our options were pretty minimal and we both made a run for it. The rain hit hard only a few seconds after we started toward the structure and within moments, we were both drenched. Lightning struck only a few hundred yards to our left, scaring the hell out of both of us. Reaching the barn, we opened the door and hurried in.
It was dark inside so we took our cell phones out and turned the flashlight feature on. Fortunately, we found a battery-operated flashlight that doubled as a lantern and were able to save our cell phone batteries as we shivered in the barn. The storm had brought cooler air and with no heat in the barn, plus wind that regularly moved through the structure, we were both feeling much colder than you might expect. She found a couple of dirty blankets and with few options, we placed one on the hay-covered floor and prepared to get under a second blanket.
We took our shoes and socks off, hoping they would dry some as we hung them up. But our cold, wet clothes were not just making us shiver, but would prove a major deterrent to getting warm.
As if having the same thought, my daughter spoke up a few seconds after sitting down. "Daddy, I hate to say this, but this is our
Naked and Afraid
moment."
I looked at her confused as she referenced one of the shows she liked to watch with me. I stopped bending down and stood upright.
"We're only making matters worse if we drench the blankets," she pointed out.
"Solution?" I asked through clenched teeth.
"Like I said. We get naked, cuddle together under the blanket for warmth, and hopefully our clothes dries some if we hang them up."
"Um, honey, I don't think that's the best-"
"Oh, I know, this isn't ideal," she said. "But it's what we need to do."
I was still going to argue, but she was already getting to her feet and started to pull off her top that was clinging tightly to her body. I picked my jaw off the floor as her bra soon came off and I turned away. Slowly, I moved to follow my daughter's lead - all the while, looking for any reason to stop this madness, but couldn't formulate a real argument. Instead, I was unbuttoning my shirt.
Briefly I turned my head and saw, as much as I would let myself see, my daughter's ass come into view as she pulled off her capri pants and panties.
Fucking hell!
Turning back, I pulled off my shirt and hung it up on a nearby board. Unbuttoning my shorts, I exhaled and let them drop to the floor. Clad in only my boxers, I felt them. They weren't too wet, I could argue.
But Vicky quickly dashed that away. "Off with them, Daddy. Plus, the body heat will be better."
I don't know if that was a fact, but it sounded true enough. I looked back and Vicky was already under the blanket. She turned away to give me some privacy and with a bit of courage, I pushed the boxers down and hung them up as well. I hesitated for a second, still unsure about climbing under a blanket with my daughter, but ultimately gave in.
Slipping under the blanket, I looked at the back of my daughter's head and nervously reminded myself to breathe. If we were worried about body heat, I should move closer to her, but my dick was already thinking of what that might feel like and I didn't want my hard-on rubbing against her.
"Come on," she said. "Closer. I'm freezing over here."
I've never heard my baby plead for help and refused to come to her aid, but this was one time that it made sense to me.
