My daughter, Carol, and I were driving north on 89 in Vermont to attend the college graduation of my son. We had been traveling for about three hours when suddenly the sky opened up with a terrible thunderstorm. To make matters worse, about five miles from nowhere, the car sputtered to a halt, and just died.

"Great," I said. "This is all we need."

"I think I saw a farmhouse about a mile back," Carol said.

"Well, I guess it's better than being stranded here." We ventured forth in the torrential downpour and eventually made our way to the farmhouse's front door. We were greeted by your typical caricatured farmer, with overalls, pipe, and drawl.

"Phones out," he said laconically. "Probably be out until the morning."

"Well, do you at least have a place for us to stay?" I tried. "It's kind of miserable out here."

"Don't let strangers in," he said. "But I suppose you can stay in the barn." He led us to his ancient barn where there was a livable apartment set up in the hay loft.

But only one bed.

"I don't suppose you have another bed," I asked, knowing that I was probably pushing my luck.

"One oughta'' be fine," he said, eyeing my daughter. Her wet tee shirt accentuated her nubile curves.

I cleared my throat and replied nervously, "You don't understand: Carol's my daughter."

"No business of mine," he said as he left us alone in the barn.

For a long moment, Carol and I stood awkwardly in place, our clothes dripping from the rain. It was a rather humorous situation. But the thought of actually climbing into bed with my eighteen year old daughter sent a shiver of forbidden delight through me. She was young and beautiful, voluptuous and sensual. If she were anybody else's daughter, I don't think I would have hesitated making a move on her. My thoughts and eyes wandered to her heaving breasts. Her nipples were poking through the wet material of her shirt.

"I guess I'll take the floor," I said.

"But, Dad, your back. Let me sleep on the floor."

"It's all right. It's only for one night."

"You know it's too bad we're not a pair of lovers, like the farmer thought. That way neither of us would have to sleep on the floor." Carol smiled at me then. Not like the little girl she always was to me. More like a woman. A come on. Enticing and seductive. What if we were a pair of lovers...my thoughts exactly...

"Yeah, right," I said. I laughed nervously, trying to play it down.

Carol walked over to me slowly and methodically. "What do you say, Dad? Why don't we pretend like we're a couple just stopping for a quick roll in the hay?"

Was she serious? Was my own daughter actually suggesting that we go to bed together? I wasn't going to let this opportunity go just like that. She seemed serious enough.

"Are you sure?" I whispered, my voice hoarse.

She nodded her head slowly. "Nobody's here now. Nobody will know."

I took her in my arms and our mouths met in a long, passionate kiss. Our tongues entwined as we began groping at each other's clothes. We were like a young couple, fumbling clumsily at our wet clothes.

When I couldn't get her shirt buttons, Carol said, "Oh forget it."

I ripped her shirt open and attacked her breasts.

"Oh God," she gasped, throwing her head back in wanton lust. I picked her up and walked over to the double bed. When I lay her down, I stood and ripped off my own shirt and pants. I helped her out of her jeans. They were so tight that she had to lift herself up to get them off. And finally, I removed her soaking pink panties and beheld my daughter's forbidden zone. It was the most sacred of fruit that all fathers were taboo to taste.