Chapter 1

“Chloe, have you packed your things yet?” My mother’s voice caught my attention. Her footsteps were gradually approaching my room. “Your father is arriving shortly,” she added. “It’s his custody weekend, don’t forget.”

“Thanks, but I’m ready,” I replied. It’s an arrangement that had been going on for nearly a year already. Hell, technically it wasn’t even a custody day anymore. My eighteenth birthday came up in the midst of the year, so it wasn’t a legally binding requirement. I simply got used to spending the weekend away from home.

I suppose I was lucky that they waited with that big change as long as they did. It’s easy to remember how quickly things were different. My parents had entered that phase in their marriage when they could no longer put up with each other, and as such, they decided to get divorced and live separately. It was a simple solution ¬for them. But for me – their child – it was annoying to deal with. It was akin to living two different lives.

My mother was raising me to be modest and proper, while my father took advantage of his newfound freedom by going through what appeared to be a midlife crisis. His way of raising me revolved around the simple philosophy of “do whatever.” I couldn’t complain that my life was dull, at least.

“He seems to be late. What’s taking him so long?” I asked just as my bedroom door swung open, and my mother peeked inside. She was mildly surprised to see that I truly had packed my belongings already. It was a simple travel bag containing a change of clothes, some basic necessities, and my laptop so that I could continue studying despite being away from home.

The startling noise of a honking car drew my attention to our backyard. I quickly bid my farewells to my mother, grabbed my bag, and greeted my father outside. To my surprise, he had arrived in a rented van rather than his usual car.

He rolled down a window, and gestured for me to come closer.

“Get inside, princess!” he yelled, which made me cringe in return. He loved teasing me with that nickname. I could never tell if the origin stemmed from the large house my mother lived in, or the expensive clothes she enjoyed dressing me in. Either way, I hadn’t asked for any of it.

“Dad!” I made an attempt to make him feel guilty, but he simply scoffed and continued staring at me with an amused grin. Unacceptable. I glared even more strongly back at him, but it was of no use. He simply watched in glee as I carried the heavy luggage into the conspicuous old van and got into the passenger’s seat. It was my turn to stare back at my father.

“What’s with the rented car?” Turning to look into the back of the vehicle, I also noticed a bunch of camping utensils.

“Well,” he begun to explain. “It’s kind of a long story. How about this,” he suggested. “You go ahead and enjoy the scenery for a while, and once we’ve arrived, I’ll tell you what we are doing and why we are doing it. Does that sound fair to you?”

I nodded, and our journey started. It was a pleasant sight as I looked out the window. The urban cityscape gradually faded out of view, and was replaced by a welcoming countryside. Fields, acres, and vast patches of empty grass land. It was after an hour of driving when my interest piqued and I shot my father a curious gaze. Alas, he did not reply.

The car eventually took a turn, and entered a rough trail that led into a forest. The basking sun above us became shrouded by leaves. Only a few rays of light still managed to break through the dense vegetation, and even the air itself became noticeably damp and fresh.

It was the first time in years that I was so far away from home, but rather than being frightened, I felt a weird sense of relief. It was akin to an unexpected vacation, albeit with a purpose I still wasn’t clear about.

“You look like you haven’t seen trees before,” my father interrupted me.

“It’s been a while. Care to explain why you’re taking me all the way out here?” Just to be sure of what I already expected, I briefly snatched my phone out of my pocket and checked for a connection. It didn’t display a single bar ¬– we were far from civilization.

“Sure!” he answered. The dense vegetation was slowly opening up to reveal a larger, open area. The grass was downtrodden. Near the center was a makeshift fire pit consisting of many small and large stones which were arranged into a circle. Remnants of ash still lingered in the midst of that circle. “Well, there’s a secret I hadn’t told you yet,” he began.

“Before you were born, I always hoped that your mother would give birth to a son. Because the fondest memories of my childhood, were bonding moments with my dad during fishing trips, hiking, things like that. When she gave birth to a daughter, I kind of just accepted that those things would never happen again. But you know what?” The car gradually slowed until it came to a stop.

“You’re old enough now to decide for yourself. I figured we can give this a try, and if you dislike it, you will let me know.”

He stepped out of the car, and already began to retrieve a few items from the back of the van while I was still taken aback by this revelation. He just dumped a lot of information on me at once. It was a relief that he didn’t say he regretted having a daughter, but he also mentioned that he would have preferred a son. It probably didn’t help that my mother had her own way of raising me. Whatever good that did, anyway. I never liked playing with dolls and I certainly was never going to behave like one.

When I freshly entered puberty, she was probably the only reason why I spent my time with other girls instead of roughhousing it with the guys and being up to no good. This was an opportunity to embrace my rebellious side and maybe even learn a little more about myself. And the way my father phrased it, this seemed to be some kind of family tradition. I loved the thought.

“I will let you know!” I chirped back at him. So I climbed out of the car, and helped to get his stuff out of the car. Most of it resembled camping gear, which he soon used to set up a tent. It felt like a little adventure – I didn’t even know where we were, but it was an idyllic little patch. There was also a distinct watery sound nearby.

Curiosity got the better of me, so while my father was busy setting up the rest of the campsite, I followed the noise. It gradually grew louder, until I arrived at a little creek in the middle of the woods. The water coursing through it was crystal clear – to a city girl such as myself, it looked awesome. I sat down on a nearby patch of grass and simply watched the flowing water. The lush scenery, combined with the steady sound of water, provided such a unique experience.

It was so relaxing.

Every time I breathed in, I could smell fresh nature around me. I couldn’t tell just how long I sat there. It felt like my worries and stress were just washing away in that gentle stream.

It took a while before I returned to my father. Much to my surprise, he had already finished his preparations and sat by a newly lit campfire. The tent was just a few feet away, and despite its small size, it seemed solid and dependable enough to last the night. Which was fortunate – the sun was already setting.

Upon noticing me, my father gestured for me to come closer. He was close to the fire, seated, on a wooden log that had been split through the middle to make it serve as bench. It was a decently improvised idea and mildly impressive, it clearly wasn’t his first time out here in the woods.

“It looks nice,” I pointed out. The heat emanated by the flames was noticeable as soon as I sat down. It was scary, but I felt secure in my father’s presence. We listened to the crackling campfire for a while before he turned back towards me.

“Hey, Chloe. I hope you aren’t mad at me or your mother, for the current situation.” He reached over to his side, towards something I hadn’t noticed, and retrieved a couple bottles of beer. As it turned out, he had brought a cooler. He opened both of the bottles and handed one to me, and I reluctantly took it.

“Are you sure? I’m not old enough to drink alco-”I was interrupted by his stare.

Something quickly gave me the feeling that he was well aware that I’d sometimes sneak away from home to party with friends. I was no stranger to drinking.

“Alright, sure,” I corrected myself. “And yeah I’m not mad at either of you. Life is unpredictable, I know. I’m not a child anymore,” I reassured him. “You don’t sound like you’re happy yourself, though?”

He took a sip from his beer. Then, he lowered his head briefly before returning to look at the fire. “I miss your mother, of course. We’ve lived together for almost twenty years after all. It’s a complicated situation for all of us, but as you’ve so wisely said, life is unpredictable.”

While I listened to him, I drank some of my own beer. It was awfully bitter, but the chilled temperature made it easy to get down. The sour taste encouraged me to try and drink the bottle quickly, before it would have a chance to get warm and taste even worse.

“How about you, then?” he asked. “How is the dating life of my little princess?”

“Dad!” Once again I found myself trying to scold him with my gaze alone, however futile it may be. “There’s ... not much of a dating life. I get around a lot – I mean, I meet a lot of people. But I haven’t met any guy I fancied. That aside I’m swamped with studies and stuff, college is troublesome compared to what high school was like. I wish I could turn back time,” I explained. The alcohol made me sound more melancholic than I intended, and I quickly paid the price.

My father laughed out loud, reached out with his arm, and gave me a hard enough pat on the back to make me nearly fall off the wooden bench! The booze had eased his mood, too.

“That’s genius, I love it. You’ve nailed the tone of a suffering adult. Yes, if only it were possible to turn back time, my troubled princess...” he teased.

To which I playfully glared back at him.

Afterwards, we continued talking and joking for a while longer, and shared a few more beers. Fortunately I had enough practice to keep my alcohol down, but by the end of it, both of us felt intoxicated, and tired, but also happy.

The campfire remained our only source of light in the midst of these dark woods. When the flames slowly ran out of fuel, we retreated into the tent. I found that he had prepared sleeping bags already, one for each of us. They weren’t exactly jumbo sized – perhaps to save money. But there was more than enough room for one person. I didn’t bring any pajama, and decided to sleep in my underwear.

And so, we both squeezed into our sleeping bags and zipped them up tightly. We fell asleep to the steadily weakening sound of firewood outside. I closed my eyes, and felt my mind wander off.

However, something soon drew me back to reality.

“Jess ... Jessica...”

I heard my father’s voice nearby, it was weak and barely audible. He was calling my mother’s name – was he on the phone with her? No, we didn’t get any signal this far from the city. Maybe he was having a nice dream, I figured. Either way, I didn’t think much of it and closed my eyes once more. Sleep claimed me soon after.

The next time I woke up, it was to the sound of my sleeping bag being unzipped.

Moments later, someone crawled into the already limited room of my sleeping bag. My father – most likely – and his body pressed snugly against mine. There was so little space remaining inside the bag that I could barely even breathe anymore.

The campfire outside had died, there was absolutely no light to see anything, despite my best attempts. The only sense I could still rely on was my hearing.

“Jess...” The weak mumbling of my father was so close to my ear, I could practically feel his breath. He certainly seemed to be sleeping, or sleepwalking. He must be having a dream about my mother, I figured – it would explain why he kept calling her name. I was just about to try and wake him up, when I grew aware of something else.

Because of how tightly he was pressing against my backside, I hadn’t noticed it at first. But there was something poking and prodding the back of my leg. I felt it sliding up and onto the insides of my thigh. It’s when I realized that my father must have decided to sleep naked.

Waking him up in this situation was an embarrassment that I wanted to spare both of us. However, my attempts to wiggle out of the sleeping bag were not getting me anywhere. It was designed for one person – having two inside, meant that the fabric squeezed down on me tightly. I couldn’t even roll around to reach the zipper, and my arms were too short to get anywhere near it.

I grumpily resigned myself to the situation. My father began to buck his hips forward, which in turn allowed his semi-flaccid erection to smoothly slide back and forth between my thighs. I was being dry-humped. I could feel his penis growing – and shame was burning my cheeks. I had never even seen a real penis. I was a virgin.

The idea that I had my father’s cock rubbing against my bare skin was revolting. Before I could make another attempt to get out of such an incredibly awkward situation, I felt him shifting his position slightly. He was changing his angle. The smooth crown of his manhood was sliding upwards, and with his next forward movement, I could feel it nudging against the crotch of my underwear.

I uttered a startled yelp, and squeezed my thighs shut. It did little to restrict his movement however, and he once more thrust forward with the same result. His mushroom-head plunged against my soft labia, with only my underwear to separate us.

It was completely quiet all around us. Only the faint sound of our breathing was audible, as well as the sound of shifting fabric whenever he moved. I could precisely feel what was happening between my legs though, even without seeing or hearing it. The tip of his appendage repeatedly mushed against my crotch, until he once more shifted slightly.

“Jess ... I love you...”

This time when he bucked forward, he pushed his erection directly into the cleft of my underwear, into the cameltoe that he helped to outline. My heart abruptly began to beat twice as fast. If I hadn’t been wearing panties, he would have entered me with that thrust. I reached down to push his penis away, or to at least shield my womanhood, but since my hands were still outside the sleeping bag there was nothing I could do. So I gathered my courage and attempted to wriggle free again, despite the risk that he might wake up.

But then his arms shifted and wrapped around my body – inside the bag. He pulled me in for a tight bear-hug, squeezing me so tightly that it briefly drew air out of my lungs. I could scarcely imagine the kind of dream he had.