Daughter Swap
Copyright© 2026 by Tarl Cabot
Chapter 7: The Price of Silence
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 7: The Price of Silence - 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
Dawn came gray and cold through the pines, the kind of light that made the ashes in the fire pit look like something that had died overnight. Matt woke first, Becca’s back pressed warm against his chest, his cock still half-hard and buried in her from the night before. He eased out slowly, careful not to wake her, and watched his own seed follow—thick and slow down the inside of her thigh.
She stirred anyway, murmuring something, one hand reaching back to find his hip.
“Morning, Daddy.”
“Pack up day,” Matt said quietly, kissing her shoulder.
They worked in shifts. Jeff broke down the tents with mechanical efficiency, his eyes hollow from no sleep, his jaw set. Brittney moved like a ghost through the clearing, hoodie pulled low, saying almost nothing. Every so often her gaze drifted toward Matt and then away, and something in her face had closed off—like a door you only see shut once you already walked through it.
Matt pulled Becca aside near the SUV, out of earshot.
“Your mother,” he said, low. “What would she think about joining us? The three of us.”
Becca’s green eyes widened, then narrowed with that calculating tilt Matt had learned to read years ago. “You’re serious.”
“I’ve thought about it a long time. Coming clean. All of it.”
She chewed her thumbnail, thinking. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally. “But not yet. And Daddy—” She caught his wrist, fingers tightening. “Jeff says nothing to Sarah. Nothing. Promise me.”
“Already handled.”
Matt crossed the clearing to where Jeff was strapping the cooler into the back of the SUV. He clapped a hand on Jeff’s shoulder, steering him behind the vehicle.
“One thing,” Matt said. “You keep your mouth shut about the girls. All of it. If Sarah pushes, if Danielle starts digging—” He shrugged. “You tell her you and I fucked while the girls slept in their own tent. Scratch that itch and leave Brittney and Becca out of it.”
Jeff frowned. “Why would—”
Matt’s hand pressed flat against Jeff’s chest, cutting him off. Then Matt dropped. Went to his knees in the cold gravel, popped the button on Jeff’s jeans with two fingers, and dragged the zipper down before Jeff could form another word.
“Matt—”
“It’s a goodbye,” Matt said, and took Jeff’s cock into his mouth in one wet swallow.
Jeff’s spine hit the side of the SUV. His hand flew to the roof, knuckles white. Matt worked him like he’d been practicing all his life—tongue flat along the underside, cheeks hollowed, one hand cupping Jeff’s balls with a slow squeeze that made Jeff’s knees shake. The air was thirty-something degrees, and Jeff’s breath fogged out of him in short, broken puffs.
“Fuck,” Jeff whispered. “Fuck, Matt.”
Matt didn’t answer. Just took him deeper, throat working. Ten minutes, maybe less. Jeff’s hips stuttered, one long groan tearing out of his chest, and he came hard down Matt’s throat. Matt swallowed it all, pulled off, and wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist like a man finishing a beer.
“Now we’re even,” Matt said, standing. “We never talk about this weekend again unless I do.”
Jeff leaned against the SUV, chest heaving, saying nothing.
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