Daughter Swap
Copyright© 2026 by Tarl Cabot
Chapter 1: Swap at the Campsite
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1: Swap at the Campsite - Two dads swap daughters for a weekend of forbidden pleasure in a secluded forest camp.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Ma/Ma Consensual Reluctant Gay Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Incest Mother Father Daughter Group Sex Anal Sex Double Penetration First Masturbation Oral Sex Pegging Sex Toys Small Breasts
The tires of Jeff’s SUV crunched over the last stretch of gravel before the campsite, a sequestered clearing beneath a canopy of ponderosa pines in the Angeles National Forest. The air was thin and dry, smelling of sun-baked granite and pine resin. Matt watched the dust plume in the side mirror, his jaw tight. Their wives, Danielle and Sarah, were probably already sipping mimosas in some air-conditioned spa lobby, but his mind wasn’t on them.
It was on Becca.
His daughter sat in the back seat next to Jeff’s girl, Brittney. Two eighteen-year-olds, earbuds in, heads bobbing to their own private soundtracks. One tall, athletic, and confident; the other small, pale, and quiet. Matt’s stomach knotted as he glanced at Jeff behind the wheel. Jeff caught the look.
“Spill it,” Jeff said, low enough the girls wouldn’t hear.
Matt exhaled. “It’s been almost a year.”
Jeff’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “A year.”
“Since last August. Danielle has no idea.” Matt rubbed the back of his neck. “Becca ... she wanted it, Jeff. I didn’t push. She came to me one night and said she’d been thinking about me. About us. What was I supposed to do?”
Jeff said nothing for a long moment. The SUV dipped into a rut, and the girls laughed behind them about something on a phone. Then Jeff spoke, his voice measured.
“I’ve thought about Becca too. More than I should.”
Matt turned to face him fully, the weight of the admission hanging between them like wood smoke.
“Then let’s swap,” Matt said. “You take Becca this weekend. I’ll take Brittney.”
Jeff’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. “You’re serious.”
“I’ll teach Brittney,” he said. “Everything. She’s eighteen, Jeff. She’s old enough to choose. Just like Becca is.”
The campfire crackled, sparks spiraling into a black sky crowded with stars. After they pitched the tents and the air turned cool, Matt took Becca aside while Jeff busied himself with the cooler.
“Daddy’s made an arrangement,” Matt murmured. Becca’s green eyes glittered, her copper hair spilling over one shoulder.
“With Jeff?” she asked.
She always knew more than she let on.
“Go to him,” Matt said. “He wants you. I want Brittney.”
Becca bit her lower lip, and then that famous, mischievous smile spread across her face. She skipped—actually skipped—across the campsite to where Jeff stood with a bottle of water, her hips swaying in her denim shorts. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his chest. The kiss she gave him was deep, slow, her tongue sliding into his mouth without hesitation. Jeff’s hands found her waist, then her hips. She pulled back just enough to whisper something in his ear, then led him toward the second tent.
Brittney stood by the fire, her small frame rigid with confusion. Matt approached her slowly, the way one would approach a deer.
“Becca’s with your dad now,” he said.
“I ... what?” Brittney’s voice was thin, a reed in the wind.
“She wanted him,” Matt said. “And I want you.”
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