The morning of their departure for the camping trip was hectic. They were planning on driving nearly 6 hours to their preferred camping spot, which meant that they had to get going relatively early in order to avoid arriving too late to have a comfortable first evening in the great outdoors.
The family was lucky enough to have an ideal camping destination, which contributed to their love of camping over the years. Sandy's uncle owned a substantial amount of rural land in the north of the state. Actually, rural isn't quite the right word; this land was wild. Covering almost 500 acres of private property, the land offered everything you could ask for as far as outdoor adventure. It was covered in woodlands, but a substantial stream snaked through the property, feeding a small lake with fresh water, making it an ideal destination for swimming. Sandy's uncle held onto the property, but nobody lived there year round. An old farm house and barn still survived, but nobody kept the property up. As a result, it was mostly left to the wild, to be used for camping and hunting by anyone her uncle knew who wished to use it. It was generous of him, because the experience of actual outdoors living certainly beat camping in a small plot at a campground surrounded by other people.
But the real camping experience required substantial preparation. Supplies for every contingency needed to be brought along, including such essentials as toilet paper, outdoor cooking supplies, mosquito repellant and a laundry list of other things as well.
Gathering and packing the supplies in time to arrive and set up before nightfall was always a challenge. They all knew what a pain it was to try to navigate the backwoods roads at night, much less set up the tents and everything. So everybody was pretty much on their game, doing their part to help get ready. Even Diane wasn't wasting time teasing or lallygagging.
But the fact that she wasn't intentionally teasing anyone did not mean that she wasn't having that effect. In fact, just by dressing in comfortable clothes for working and moving around trying to get things done, she was attracting quite a bit of her father's attention. This morning she was sporting a white, ribbed tanktop t-shirt with no bra. Her nipples pushed through the fabric and danced about as her large breasts swayed and bobbed with her efforts. She also wore red cotton shorts which did not cover her thighs for more than a few inches. The absence of any apparent panty lines suggested to her father the tantalizing possibility that only one layer of cloth separated any part of his teenaged daughter's supple body from the outside world.
Of course Diane was 100% aware of the effect she was having on her father. She wondered to herself how it was that men were so blatantly obvious about their attractions. It was as if her father thought that if he stopped staring at her tits and ass for a second they might all of the sudden disappear. Not that girls were any less susceptible to infatuation, but Diane noted that it seemed a peculiarly male trait to need to stare at the object of affection. But she did enjoy the attention – it made her feel good to know that she was able to control her father just by moving her body. Every once in a while she would stretch her arms above her head and let her full breasts push out against the t-shirt, allowing the color and shape of her nipples to show through the thin fabric. Or she would bend over and let her shorts ride up into and against her pantyless ass and pussy. At these times she almost physically could feel her father's hot gaze lazering in on her womanly assets, and it made her hot.
But Diane didn't let that slow her down. She was a natural at organizing and preparing, and she also liked to take charge. In these things she found that the boys of the family were basically useless at anything other than following simple instructions. So she was not shy about ordering them around as they brought together all the items they would need and packed them carefully into their trailer. Diane knew this would be a special trip, maybe the last that they would take as a nuclear family, and she was concentrating on making sure something like forgotten mosquito repellent wouldn't put a damper on the fun. She was especially attentive because she had also made plans of her own to ensure that this would be an especially "special" trip, plans she had been developing since Sandy announced the trip several days before.
Sandy, meanwhile, was in charge of the food. Everybody knows that half the fun of camping is cooking and enjoying good food in the great outdoors. But the key is preparation, because there aren't any stores at all close to their campground. So it was important to think things through ahead of time. This year, she'd spent an extra long time making sure everything would be just right. She had her heart set on this being the best family camping trip ever. Even Diane, who was not known for her skills in the culinary arts, had chipped in. She had made a big plate of rice krispy treats at her apartment and brought them home for the trip. They looked so delicious that Sandy kept one out of the container, to snack on as she put the finishing touches on the preparation.
By 11 o'clock Diane had the trailer packed up, and they were ready to hit the road. Each of them was excited about the trip, but their enthusiasm was muted by the prospect of 6 hours in the cramped car. Sensing the overall reticence, Diane made a move she knew would cheer the general mood: she called shotgun and got in the front seat. She knew that Rob would very much appreciate being able to snatch glimpses at her as they drove. And she knew Sandy and Chris would be anything but upset at the prospect of having to contort their bodies to fit in the tight quarters of the back seat. So they piled in the car as Sandy ran in to check the house one last time and lock the doors.
When Sandy finally squeezed into the cramped seat behind the driver she was just popping the last bit of rice krispy treat into her mouth.
"Hey, where'd you get that! I'm starving myself," Chris half-complained as he saw her finish up the dessert.
"Me too! What happened to sharing?" said Rob, although with good nature.
Diane said nothing at all, but a bit of a smile developed as she pulled her seat up as far as possible to give room to Chris sitting behind her. Diane was seated cross-legged, allowing her gorgeous, deeply tanned thighs to spread in front of her. Only a small amount of cloth covered her pussy now, and she tugged her shorts somewhat to the side in preparation for teasing her father even further. She thought to herself that she might need to distract Rob as much as possible if her brother and mom were gonna be naughty in the backseat.
"Too bad, all gone," Sandy said playfully. "We'll stop for some food once we reach Dawson City, where we always do. Right now, we gotta get on the road!"
So they pulled away from the curb, and they were all on cloud nine. The anticipation of the fun camping experience was enhanced by the nostalgia they all felt as they remembered back to past family trips. And on top of all that was the anticipation associated with the newly developed sexual tensions.
Sandy couldn't stand keeping her knees bunched up against her body for longer than it took for them to get on the interstate. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned against the door in order to drape her legs partially over Chris. As she stretched her legs out she reveled in the satisfying tremble of her muscles as they stretched. A wave of pleasure rushed through her body and she began to feel absolutely wonderful. This is the life, she said to herself as she sort of drifted off, thinking about her fun, sexy family.
Chris meanwhile was having sexy thoughts of his own. He started to absentmindedly massage his mother's calves, rubbing his hands over the skin he had become accustomed to worshiping. He checked out the way his mom's shirt rode up and encased her breasts, highlighting her nipples. Chris was surprised though when he heard his mother moan.
"Ohhh, that feels HEAVenly darling!" To Chris her voice sounded somewhat clouded, like she were just waking up from a nap or something. He was also surprised she announced out loud that he was taking liberties with her legs. He thought she would probably let him touch her, but keep the activity a secret from those in the front seat. Not a big deal, though, just weird.
Up front, Rob was glad to finally be on the interstate. The image of his daughter next to him was absolutely tantalizing. Her legs were spread lasciviously, showing off her thighs as well as demonstrating her flexibility. She was sitting in some sort of yoga-like position, with her feet flat against each other and her heels almost pressing into her crotch. He noted that he was lucky that her shorts had ridden up on the side closest to him. So he could see the skin at the juncture between her thigh and her crotch. He was pretty sure that if he could just look a little bit more closely, he would be able to make out the edge of her pussy lip in the shadows. But alas, the responsibility of driving allowed him only fleeting glances, forcing him to fill in the details with his imagination.
After a couple of hours they arrived at the city where they traditionally stopped for lunch and their first break from the road. Rob, Diane and Chris headed inside, but Sandy said she just felt too comfortable sitting in the warm backseat of the car. Everyone assumed she was over-tired from packing that morning. Her words slurred together and she seemed intent on doing nothing but lying back comfortably and letting the world slip by.
Chris was enticed by the idea of his mom alone in the car, so after using the bathroom, he told Diane what he wanted to eat, and headed back to the car. He found Sandy stretched all the way across the backseat. Her purple t-shirt rode up some, exposing her midriff. And, to Chris's horror and delight, the running shorts she wore were riding way up into crotch as she splayed her legs, nearly exposing her pussy to the view of anyone who walked by. He quickly opened the door and lifted her legs onto his lap.
