When my children were young, nearly every winter my wife and I took them to a cabin for the winter school break. We'd spend the time skiing, sledding, drinking hot chocolate by the fireplace, etc. By the time our kids were in high school, spending time with their parents (and away from their friends) wasn't in their interests anymore.
One Thanksgiving, my son and daughter were home from college and began to reminisce about our old winter cabin expeditions. We decided, with my wife, to plan an impromptu cabin trip for the upcoming winter break. My wife and I were thrilled, knowing our children valued the experiences we gave them in their youth.
About a month later, we were vacationing in the snowy mountains! We spent the days, as before, skiing and sledding -- having snowball fights, and telling stories by the fireplace. It was wonderful.
Three days into our trip, my wife heard a report on the radio about an incoming snowstorm. As a family, we decided it would be unsafe to make the entire trip back home, but agreed a trip into the town nearby was necessary for emergency food and batteries. Even as we discussed it, the snow began to fall outside.
Kicking myself that I hadn't planned for such emergencies, I began to bundle up. It was better to go now, while the snow was still light -- it could become fierce at any time -- and who knew how long it would snow for?
As I was preparing to leave, my daughter dashed down the stairs, coat in hand. "I'm coming with you, Dad," she said. "I don't want you to be alone out there."
Laughingly, I refused. "Sweetheart, I'll be fine. It's better that you're here, safe. Trust me. I'll be right back." I turned toward the door, but she blocked me.
"I'm coming with you," she said, smiling.
I glanced at my wife. She shrugged, as if to say She'll be fine.
I sighed, and nodded my head, consenting. I opened the door, and my daughter ran out in front of me toward the car.
An hour later, we'd stocked up the car with canned food, batteries, sleeping bags, water and flashlights and were headed home towards the cabin. The snow had started to fall heavily upon our car, and I was eager to get home before the roads became even worse. It was dark, now, harder to see -- and the cold had turned the snowy roads into dangerously slick ice paths.
White-knuckled, I crept along the road, trying my best to keep us steadily and safely on our path. Unbelievably, the snow took a turn for the worse, and it was impossible to see anything. I glanced at my daughter, tight-lipped and anxious, and asked if we should pull over. She agreed.
I pulled the car over to the right side of the road, looking for a safe place to stop that was off the path and out of the danger zone of other motorists. As I veered off further to the right, I instantly realized my mistake -- we were headed into a deep ditch. Terror ran through me as my hand went out in front of my daughter to prevent jostling. She screamed as we slid down into the depth of the ditch, crunching head first into snow and buckling the hood.
Then, the car stalled. I tried to turn it on, but no avail. We were screwed.
My daughter frantically scrambled for her cell phone to call her mother. As soon as she got her on the line, she started crying. I took the phone and told my wife what happened. She, of course, offered to take the other car out to come find us, but that would've been stupid and dangerous. I told her our approximate location (though I wasn't exactly sure) and asked her to call an emergency vehicle to help us.
Of course, I decided to call myself as well, and was told they would do our best to reach us as soon as possible. I warned them that we were in a deep ditch and probably difficult to see off of the road. They assured me they would keep their eyes peeled.
So we waited.
Twenty minutes passed and the remaining heat which had been blasting prior to the crash was dissipating rapidly. We were getting cold, very fast. I considered getting out of the car and going for help, but all of the survival skills I remembered told me to stay with the car.
Another twenty minutes went by and my daughter was now shivering. I slid over on the bench and put my arms around her, rubbing fast, trying to stimulate her blood flow. It helped a bit.
More time passed. My daughter's teeth were now chattering. I called the emergency number again only to be rudely told they were receiving several calls with people in the same situation. I reminded her we had no heat and were in danger of hypothermia or frostbite, but she told me to be patient and "sit tight."
The cold became unbearable. In a desperate attempt to keep us warm, I pulled my daughter onto my lap to use our body heat, but our clothes were so cold the effect was minimal. With no other choice, I told her we needed skin to skin contact. She looked very uncomfortable. I felt very uncomfortable.
Moments later, we were pressed chest to chest inside my oversized sweatshirt (which was now being stretched beyond its limits. My jeans were obviously not big enough for the both of us, so I'd pulled out one of the sleeping bags, and pulled it up to our waists, like a potato sack. My daughter sat straddling my lap, with only our underwear on between us.
"Dad," she said, with tears in her eyes, "this is so embarrassing."
"I know, honey," I soothed, "but we're liable to freeze to death. Just don't think about it -- we'll be out of here soon."
As soon as I'd said those words, I felt her hard nipples poking into my chest. Her firm, round breasts smashed against my chest. Her smooth thighs pressing down on mine. My hands, holding her to me, on her firm ass. Uh-oh, I thought. I tried to think of anything else, the cold, death, anything -- but my mind kept drifting back to the feeling of her skin on mine, and within minutes, I had an erection.
"Dad, gross," she exclaimed and tried to distance herself from my pitched boxers, but was left with little room to move within the sleeping bag. Not only did the movement further tantalize my dick making me even harder, it released it from the hole in my boxers, pressing my naked cock into her clothed pussy lips.
"I know, I know," I said, ashamed. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. It's a guy thing. Just try not to move -- it makes it worse."
For ten minutes, I willed my erection to go down, but it must've known it was only mere clothing away from sweet pussy, because it stayed rock hard, pressed against my daughter's panty-clad canal.
It had become painful. I couldn't control myself any longer. Like a reflex, I ground my rock hard meat into her, pushing my shaft between her clothed lips. I continued to thrust up and down, sliding the shaft up and down her slit, willing the underwear to somehow give way and grant me entrance to her hole. Sliding up her satin thong was so delicious, my mouth started to water. I groaned and pulled her to me, pressing her further into my shaft.
"Dad, I'm not moving," she said.
"I know, I know," I repeated. "I can't help it. It feels too good." To make my point, I pressed into her again and let another groan escape from my mouth. "Fuck, it feels good."
She looked at me, embarrassed and revolted.
"Look, it's keeping you warm, isn't it? Haven't you forgotten about the cold?"
She looked away, putting her head on my shoulder. I didn't know if she was trying to say something with that move, until I felt her move her hips up and down, directing the movement of my shaft onto her clit.
"Ohhh," I moaned, "that's it babygirl, we're just keeping each other warm."
She quickened her pace against my cock, dry humping me to the point of being nearly unbearable, before she clutched onto me hard -- hearth thumping and breathing fast. I was pretty sure she just had an orgasm.
I pulled her face to mine. She was sweaty, red-faced and looked ashamed.
"It's okay, sweetheart," I whispered, "we need it to keep warm. See? You're sweating!"
She bit her lip and put her head back on my shoulder. My cock was still urgently pressed into her cunt lips. I needed to feel the release she felt. I needed to feel what she felt like inside. I wriggled my hands down between us and pulled her underwear to the side as I tried to position my cock to her entrance.
"Dad," she warned, looking at me, her first words in a long time, "I don't see how that's going to help."
I locked eyes and pushed the tip of my cock into her. "Oh!" she exclaimed and her eyes widened. Instantly, I felt bad, so I waited to see what she'd do. She didn't pull back. She locked her eyes with me. I started to push her down on my cock. She bit her lower lip and hissed in before opening her mouth in a gasp. The walls of her cunt were so warm and wet from our dry-humping, I didn't need to press down any further. She slid down my cock to its base with a grunt.
"Fuck," she said. "This is so wrong."
I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of my cock in her pussy. It was ecstasy. I wanted it to last forever.
"This is so wrong," she said again, this time moving her hips up and down, pumping herself on my cock. Jesus, we were fucking. I was fucking my daughter. I reached up into the sweatshirt and grabbed onto one of her breasts. She gasped and quickened her pumping on my cock.
"So wrong," she whispered in my ear, moaning and grunting. "Fuck, this is so wrong. So fucking gross. So fucking nasty."
I could tell, it was turning her on. It was turning me on. I moved my hands to her hips and fucked her back, hard. I pushed her back, letting her move up on my cock, before pulling her close again to the hilt. Our slick, sweaty bodies moved together, sliding skin-to-skin -- her tight cunt hugging my rigid shaft.
I felt her pussy start to contract on my cock, and I quickened my pumping. "That's it, babygirl, come for daddy." I couldn't believe the words I just spoke, but it sent her over the edge into orgasm as she shouted:
"Fuck, yes, ohhhhhhh, you sick fuck, dad! Give it to me!"
Her words then sent me over the edge and I railed into her cunt, my balls rising, tingling, groaning, grunting, before I shot spurt after spurt into her warm, wet cunt.
Our heavy breathing subsided, as my cock went soft inside her and slipped out. I felt our combined juices spill onto my lap.
Fuck, what did we just do?