Daddy was having the dream again. Vicky lay in the dark, under the blankets with her father's arms around her and waited it out, just like she had for the last 3 nights. He must be dreaming about mum; it was the only explanation, or the best explanation anyway considering the effect the dream was having. She could feel daddy's hardness pressed up against her buttocks and his hands were groping their way across her front as they lay together in the spoons position. This was the 4th night in a row, always the same thing, or so it seemed to Vicky.
The first night he'd had this dream Vicky had woken in a panic with images of being attacked by the many violent gangs now roaming the country since the fall of order. Once she realised it was just her daddy mumbling into her neck and groping her in his sleep, she had relaxed somewhat. Then he'd started moving. He'd obviously been having an erotic dream as he ground himself against her for what felt like hours until he'd subsided and then murmured himself into a contented sleep. Vicky had been surprised at how warm and safe she had felt and how the knot of anxiety deep within her core had loosened enough for a really good sleep for the remainder of the night. The second and third nights had been the same but without the initial fear, after all she felt safest when she was in his arms, no matter what.
Vicky lay still as daddy's large, warm hands explored their way across her front and onto her breasts. The thin material of her t-shirt was the only thing between them and those hands belonging to her own father. Her nipples hardened involuntarily at the attention and as she thought about what her daddy was doing her stomach did a flip and she realised with shock that this time she was getting wet. Her daddy was so strong and resourceful, he'd kept them alive and fed, sheltered and as safe as possible in the chaos. Fucking Hell, did she want him? She must! She was wet for her own daddy! Vicky chewed that thought over for a moment before her mind wandered back to the beginning almost 12 months ago.
It had begun quickly, nobody really believed that it was happening at first so there was no real effort to stop it. Some kind of virus or disease had started cropping up in Asia and before a week had passed the rest of the world was reporting cases. Britain had absolutely gone to pot about a week later, looting and violence was out of control as public order went out the window. Vicky's father had insisted that they move to the small cabin he had in the hills on the outskirts of the New Forest in the south of England. They'd had to travel carefully and mostly on foot as the chaos made driving almost impossible. That first week or so on the road Vicky had suffered terrible nightmares, making too much noise and putting them both in danger, but they found the nightmares abated if she slept with her daddy's arms around her.
Now a new problem had arisen. Vicky giggled softly to herself at the thought and wiggled her athletic bottom against the long hard thickness that had literally arisen from her father. She was wearing underwear of course, as was he, but it didn't do much to detract from the hot throbbing she could feel from it. Daddy groaned again and moved against her, cupping her breasts and tweaking her nipples in his sleep as his shaft slid between the tight, firm globes of her arse. Suddenly feeling naughty, Vicky carefully reached around and slid her hand between them, feeling the hard stomach muscles of her father twitch beneath her fingers as she ran her hand towards the waistband of his boxer briefs.
She paused as she suddenly wondered if this was a good idea but then, holding her breath, she pressed on and slid her small hand under the waistband. She immediately felt the heat of his thick shaft and wrapped her fingers around it gently, it throbbed in response and her father gave a sigh of pleasure. She gripped it softly as he moved his hips and soon he was pulling her against him and almost thrusting like he was fucking her. His excitement grew and he slipped his right hand down her body to her hip to pull her arse into his groin. Suddenly finding her hand trapped and unable to stroke his cock she held it firmly and let him thrust into her fist. Daddy moved his hand again, sliding back up her body, but this time her t-shirt had ridden up a little with the motion and his fingers slid up bare skin. His large hand travelled its way up her soft teenage flesh, across her tight flat stomach to her firm young breast.
She gasped in pleasure at the touch, the illicit naughtiness of it thrilled her and she arched her back pushing her nipple into his palm and her backside into his cock. She felt him swell in her hand and suddenly a rope of hot liquid shot up her wrist and hand as he spasmed against her. He stopped moving and held her gently with just a sigh of contentment as he slept on blissfully. Vicky's sigh was one of pure frustration however. She was horny as fuck now! She retrieved her hand and slid it into her own underwear. Her pussy was slick with arousal and her hand slick with cum as she ran a finger along her swollen lips. She shuddered in pleasure and went to work with her fingers, circling her clit gently at first and gradually increasing the pace until she orgasmed quietly in the darkness. She sighed again, it felt far from enough and the sexual tension was still seething through her looking for an outlet. She lay awake and pondered what to do about it until she fell into a fitful slumber.
Vicky awoke at dawn with the sun brightening the small room. Her father was already awake and checking the door and the single window of the cabin they were sheltering in. He glanced at her as she stretched on her back as she lay in the small bed they had shared. Her t-shirt pulled tight across her chest making her nipples poke through quite obviously and outlining her breasts. He cleared his throat and turned back to the window.
"Morning daddy." She murmured quietly, they did everything quietly these days.
"Morning Girly", he replied. Girly was his pet name for her, not very imaginative but somehow it made her feel protected, like daddy's little girl. She smiled and sat up.
"Anything outside?" she asked, knowing that if there had been he would have already woken her and be planning to deal with it.
"Nope, all quiet this morning. Looks like rain though, we'll need to check the area before dark and make sure there are no people around". He paused as he said the word 'people' and she swallowed nervously and nodded, then pulled her dark hair into a ponytail and wrapped her scrunchie around it.
He didn't say it, but they had to make sure there were no dead people around, the ones that were still moving obviously; there was no immediate threat from the permanently dead, the walking dead however were a big problem. She shook her head at the absurdity of the thought, she and her father were attempting to survive the zombie apocalypse; fucking mental! On top of the dead returning to life, order had completely broken down and it was now survival of the fittest, with gangs of people taking whatever they wanted in whatever way they could. Her dad had fought off half a dozen attackers so far; people trying to take her, their food, or their gear. She knew he was suffering inside, he wasn't a killer, he was an IT manager, or he had been, before. Now what was he? What was she? She had been planning to go to university, she'd just finished her A levels and was preparing for it when it had all kicked off and the world went to absolute shit.
Vicky slipped on her hiking trousers in the gloomy dawn light, there was a small rip in the front, at the knee, and she frowned at it.
"We're going to need to get some more stuff dad, my trousers will need replacing, and we've been using the same underwear for 2 weeks!" Her father glanced at her over his shoulder.
"2 pairs of underwear, we're not barbarians Girly, although I do feel like I could do with a change, and a shave" he said running his hand over the 2 weeks of facial hair.
