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The forest hummed with twilight. Pine needles cushioned my bare feet as I wandered away from the campfire. Mom, little Mikey, and Dad were laughing over some silly card game, their faces lit by the flickering flames. The air smelled of woodsmoke and damp earth. I needed a moment. "Where you going, Claire?" Dad's voice boomed, cutting through the night. "Just for a walk," I called back, not turning around. "Be back in a bit." I kept walking, deeper into the trees. The laughter faded behind me, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. A thrill shivered down my spine – a mix of freedom and something else, something I couldn't quite name. I found a small clearing bathed in moonlight. It was perfect. I sat on a fallen log, closed my eyes, and breathed in the cool air. A twig snapped. I opened my eyes, startled. Dad stood there, silhouetted against the trees. "Hey," he said, his voice softer now. "Couldn't let my girl wander off alone in the dark." I shrugged, trying to act casual. "I'm fine, Dad. Just enjoying the quiet." He sat beside me on the log, close enough that our arms brushed. He smelled like campfire and Old Spice. A familiar, comforting scent. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" he murmured, looking up at the moon. "Yeah," I agreed, my throat suddenly tight. We sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the chirping of crickets. Then, Dad turned to me, his eyes searching my face. "You seem…different lately, Claire," he said, his voice low. "More grown-up." I shifted uncomfortably. "I am grown-up, Dad. I'm twenty." He chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound. "I know, I know. Just seems like yesterday you were a little girl, chasing fireflies." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my cheek. My breath caught in my throat. "You're a beautiful woman, Claire," he said, his voice husky. My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn't meet his eyes. "Dad…" He leaned closer, his breath warm on my neck. "Don't 'Dad' me," he whispered. "Just…Claire." His lips brushed against my ear. A jolt of electricity shot through me. "Dad, this isn't…" I started to say, but the words died in my throat as he kissed my neck. His hands moved to my shoulders, pulling me closer. I closed my eyes, my head swimming. This was wrong. So wrong. But it felt…amazing. His lips found mine. The kiss was tentative at first, then deepened, becoming hungry, demanding. I moaned softly, my body betraying me. "Claire," he breathed against my lips. "I've wanted this for so long." I pulled away, gasping for air. "Dad, we can't. Mom…" He cupped my face in his hands, his eyes pleading. "Just for tonight, Claire. Just you and me." I knew I should say no. I knew I should run. But I couldn't. His eyes held me captive. "Okay," I whispered, the word barely audible. "Just…just tonight." A triumphant gleam flashed in his eyes. He kissed me again, harder this time, his tongue exploring my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, abandoning myself to the moment. He stood up, pulling me with him. "Let's go back to the tent," he murmured. "Mom and Mikey are asleep by now." I nodded, my legs feeling like jelly. We walked back to the campsite, hand in hand, the world blurring around me. The tent was dark and silent. Mom and Mikey were curled up in their sleeping bags, oblivious to what was about to happen. Dad led me to the back of the tent, away from their sleeping forms. He turned to me, his eyes burning with desire. He reached out and unbuttoned my shirt, his fingers trembling slightly. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, pushing the shirt off my shoulders. I stood there, naked from the waist up, my breasts exposed to the cool night air. I shivered, but not from the cold. He reached out and cupped my breasts in his hands, his thumbs teasing my nipples. I gasped, my body arching towards him. "God, Claire," he groaned. "You feel so good." He bent his head and took one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking hard. I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair. He moved to the other breast, lavishing the same attention on it. My body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more. He pulled away, his eyes dark with lust. He reached for the zipper of my jeans. "Let me," I whispered, my voice husky. I unzipped my jeans and pushed them down, along with my underwear. I stood before him, completely naked, the moonlight casting long shadows across my body. He stared at me, his eyes devouring every inch of me. "You're perfect," he breathed. He reached out and touched me, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip, the swell of my stomach, the soft triangle of hair between my legs. I gasped as his fingers found my clit, gently stroking it. My knees buckled, and I grabbed onto his shoulders for support. "Dad," I moaned, my voice pleading. "Please…" He chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Please what, Claire?" "Please…fuck me," I whispered, the words burning with shame and desire. His eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face. He reached for his belt buckle. "Your wish is my command," he said, his voice rough with lust. He unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. It was bigger than I had imagined, thick and veined, straining against its skin. I stared at it, mesmerized. I had never seen my father naked before. It was both shocking and incredibly arousing. He stepped closer, his cock brushing against my thigh. I gasped, my body trembling with anticipation. He reached out and cupped my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. "Are you sure about this, Claire?" he asked, his voice low and serious. I nodded, my eyes locked on his. "Yes," I whispered. "I'm sure." He kissed me, a deep, passionate kiss that left me breathless. Then, he reached down and spread my legs, positioning himself between them. "Wrap your legs around me," he murmured. I obeyed, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock pressed against my entrance, hot and hard. "Ready?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. I nodded, my eyes closed, my body aching for him. He pushed inside me, slowly at first, then with more force. I gasped, my body stretching to accommodate him. It hurt, but it also felt incredibly good. "Oh, God, Claire," he groaned, his voice muffled against my neck. "You're so tight." He began to move, thrusting in and out of me, his hips grinding against mine. I moaned, my head thrown back, my hands clutching his shoulders. The tent seemed to spin around me, the sounds of our bodies colliding filling the air. I could hear Mom and Mikey snoring softly in their sleeping bags, completely unaware of what was happening just a few feet away. The thought both horrified and excited me. I was fucking my father, right next to my mother and brother. It was wrong, so wrong, but I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. Dad's thrusts became faster and harder, driving me closer to the edge. I could feel my orgasm building, a tight, throbbing knot in my center. "Dad," I moaned, my voice barely audible. "I'm going to…" "Let go, Claire," he whispered. "Let it all go." I squeezed my eyes shut and arched my back, my body convulsing with pleasure. My orgasm exploded, a wave of pure sensation washing over me. Dad groaned and thrust even harder, his body shaking with his own release. He came deep inside me, filling me with his seed. We collapsed against each other, breathless and sweating. The only sound was our ragged breathing. After a few minutes, Dad pulled out of me and collapsed beside me on the ground. We lay there in silence, our bodies intertwined, the weight of what we had just done settling over us. "Wow," I whispered, finally breaking the silence. Dad chuckled softly. "Yeah, wow is right." He reached out and stroked my hair. "I'm sorry, Claire," he said, his voice serious. "I shouldn't have done that." I shrugged. "It's okay," I said, even though it wasn't. "I wanted it too." He sighed. "We can't let this happen again," he said. "It was a mistake." I nodded, even though I knew I didn't want it to be a mistake. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to feel his cock inside me again. "I know," I said, my voice barely a whisper. We lay there in silence for a few more minutes, the weight of our secret hanging between us. Then, Dad stood up and pulled on his pants. "I should go back to Mom," he said. "She'll be wondering where I am." I nodded, my heart sinking. He was leaving me. He was going back to his life, back to his wife, back to pretending that none of this had ever happened. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. "Goodnight, Claire," he said. "Goodnight, Dad," I replied. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the darkness. I lay there alone in the tent, naked and aching, the taste of his cum still on my lips. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but it was no use. My mind was racing, filled with images of Dad's body, of his cock inside me, of the forbidden pleasure we had shared. I knew that I shouldn't want him. I knew that what we had done was wrong. But I couldn't help myself. I was addicted to him. I needed him. And I knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning. As days turned into weeks, the memory of that night in the tent haunted me. Every time I looked at Dad, I felt a jolt of desire mixed with guilt. He, on the other hand, seemed to be avoiding me, his eyes never meeting mine. One afternoon, while Mom was out grocery shopping, I found myself alone in the house with Dad. He was in the living room, reading the newspaper. I hesitated for a moment, then walked in. "Dad," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He looked up, his eyes widening slightly. "Claire," he said, his voice guarded. "What is it?" I took a deep breath. "We need to talk," I said. He sighed and put down the newspaper. "I know," he said. "I've been avoiding this." "Why?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Don't you feel anything?" He looked away, his jaw tight. "Of course I feel something," he said. "But it's wrong, Claire. We can't do this." "But I want to," I said, my voice pleading. "I want you." He turned back to me, his eyes filled with pain. "Don't say that," he said. "You don't know what you're saying." "Yes, I do," I said. "I know exactly what I'm saying. I want you to fuck me again, Dad. I want you to fill me with your cum." His eyes darkened, and his body tensed. I could see the desire warring with the guilt in his face. "Stop it, Claire," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You're playing with fire." "I don't care," I said. "I want to get burned." I stepped closer to him, my eyes locked on his. I reached out and touched his chest, my fingers tracing the outline of his pectoral muscles. He flinched at my touch, but he didn't pull away. I could feel his heart beating faster beneath my fingertips. "You want me too," I whispered, my voice husky. "I can see it in your eyes." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "God, Claire," he groaned. "What are you doing to me?" I didn't answer. I simply leaned in and kissed him, my lips pressing against his. He hesitated for a moment, then his lips parted, and he kissed me back, his tongue plunging into my mouth. The kiss was rough and desperate, filled with pent-up desire and forbidden longing. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, my body pressed against his. He broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "We can't do this here," he said, his voice trembling. "Mom could come home any minute." "Then let's go somewhere else," I said, my voice husky. "Let's go to my room." He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said, his voice barely audible. "Let's go." He took my hand, and we walked to my room, our hearts pounding in our chests. I closed the door behind us and turned to face him, my eyes burning with desire. He reached out and unbuttoned my shirt, his fingers trembling slightly. I stood there, naked from the waist up, my breasts exposed to his gaze. He stared at me, his eyes devouring every inch of me. "You're so beautiful," he breathed. He reached out and cupped my breasts in his hands, his thumbs teasing my nipples. I gasped, my body arching towards him. "God, Claire," he groaned. "You feel so good." He bent his head and took one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking hard. I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair. He moved to the other breast, lavishing the same attention on it. My body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for more. He pulled away, his eyes dark with lust. He reached for the zipper of my jeans. "Let me," I whispered, my voice husky. I unzipped my jeans and pushed them down, along with my underwear. I stood before him, completely naked, the sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating every inch of my body. He stared at me, mesmerized. He had never seen me like this, in the full light of day. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. He reached out and touched me, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip, the swell of my stomach, the soft triangle of hair between my legs. I gasped as his fingers found my clit, gently stroking it. My knees buckled, and I grabbed onto his shoulders for support. "Dad," I moaned, my voice pleading. "Please…" He chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Please what, Claire?" "Please…fuck me," I whispered, the words burning with shame and desire. His eyes widened, and a slow smile spread across his face. He reached for his belt buckle. "Your wish is my command," he said, his voice rough with lust. He unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. It was bigger than I had remembered, thick and veined, straining against its skin. I stared at it, mesmerized. I had never seen it so close, so exposed. It was both shocking and incredibly arousing. He stepped closer, his cock brushing against my thigh. I gasped, my body trembling with anticipation. He reached out and cupped my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. "Are you sure about this, Claire?" he asked, his voice low and serious. I nodded, my eyes locked on his. "Yes," I whispered. "I'm sure." He kissed me, a deep, passionate kiss that left me breathless. Then, he reached down and spread my legs, positioning himself between them. "Wrap your legs around me," he murmured. I obeyed, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. His cock pressed against my entrance, hot and hard. "Ready?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. I nodded, my eyes closed, my body aching for him. He pushed inside me, slowly at first, then with more force. I gasped, my body stretching to accommodate him. It hurt, but it also felt incredibly good. "Oh, God, Claire," he groaned, his voice muffled against my neck. "You're so tight." He began to move, thrusting in and out of me, his hips grinding against mine. I moaned, my head thrown back, my hands clutching his shoulders. The room seemed to spin around me, the sounds of our bodies colliding filling the air. I could hear the clock ticking on the wall, a constant reminder of the danger we were in. But I didn't care. I was lost in the moment, lost in the pleasure, lost in the forbidden thrill of being with my father. Dad's thrusts became faster and harder, driving me closer to the edge. I could feel my orgasm building, a tight, throbbing knot in my center. "Dad," I moaned, my voice barely audible. "I'm going to…" "Let go, Claire," he whispered. "Let it all go." I squeezed my eyes shut and arched my back, my body convulsing with pleasure. My orgasm exploded, a wave of pure sensation washing over me. Dad groaned and thrust even harder, his body shaking with his own release. He came deep inside me, filling me with his seed. We collapsed against each other, breathless and sweating. The only sound was our ragged breathing. After a few minutes, Dad pulled out of me and collapsed beside me on the bed. We lay there in silence, our bodies intertwined, the weight of what we had just done settling over us. "Wow," I whispered, finally breaking the silence. Dad chuckled softly. "Yeah, wow is right." He reached out and stroked my hair. "I'm sorry, Claire," he said, his voice serious. "I shouldn't have done that." I shrugged. "It's okay," I said, even though it wasn't. "I wanted it too." He sighed. "We can't let this happen again," he said. "It was a mistake." I nodded, even though I knew I didn't want it to be a mistake. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to feel his cock inside me again. "I know," I said, my voice barely a whisper. We lay there in silence for a few more minutes, the weight of our secret hanging between us. Then, Dad stood up and pulled on his pants. "I should go," he said. "Mom will be home soon." I nodded, my heart sinking. He was leaving me. He was going back to his life, back to his wife, back to pretending that none of this had ever happened. He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. "I love you, Claire," he said. "I love you too, Dad," I replied, my voice barely a whisper. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I lay there in bed, naked and aching, the taste of his cum still on my lips. I knew that what we had done was wrong, but I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. We had broken a taboo, crossed a line that should never be crossed. And I knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning. Our secret was out, and there was no going back. We were bound together now, by lust, by guilt, by the forbidden pleasure we had shared. I closed my eyes and smiled, a slow, wicked smile. The game had changed, and I was ready to play.