I stood in the middle of my room. It looked so empty. The posters were down and the shelves were bare. I’m 18 years old and heading to college in two weeks. My name is Rachel. I’m 5’4”, 115 lbs, with 34C tits and blonde hair that falls to the middle of my back.

My dad knocked on the door frame.

“You about ready kiddo?” he asked.

I turned to look at him. My dad is 42. He’s 6’1” and built like a truck. He works construction and spends his weekends outdoors. He has broad shoulders and strong arms. Since my mom left five years ago it’s just been us. He’s been my rock.

“Almost,” I said. “Just checking if I forgot anything.”

He leaned against the door. He was wearing a tight gray T-shirt and jeans. I could see his biceps flex when he crossed his arms.

“Don’t overthink it,” he said. “It’s just camping. Just you and me. One last trip before you leave me for the dorms.”

He smiled. It was a sad smile. I knew he was going to miss me. The truth is I was going to miss him too. A lot more than I should.

“I know,” I said. “I’ll be out in five.”

He nodded and walked down the hall. I watched him go. He has a great ass in jeans.

I turned back to my bag. I had packed the usual stuff like sweats and hiking boots. Then I paused. I thought about being alone with him in the middle of nowhere. No cell service. No people.

I opened my underwear drawer. I grabbed a handful of my tiniest thongs. They were lace and barely covered anything. I grabbed a few white tank tops. The material was thin and almost see-through. I grabbed a pair of denim cutoff shorts. They were so short the pockets hung out the bottom. If I bent over you could see the curve of my ass cheeks.

I stuffed them into the side pocket of my duffel bag. Just in case.

I changed into my travel outfit. I put on a thong and a pair of black yoga shorts. They were spandex and tight. They clung to my ass and showed my camel toe if I pulled them up too high. I paired it with a cropped hoodie that stopped just above my belly button. I decided not to wear a bra. My nipples pushed against the fabric.

I looked in the mirror. I looked hot. I wondered if Dad would notice.

I grabbed my bag and headed out. Dad was loading the truck. He looked up when I walked out. His eyes went right to my legs. Then up to my chest. He quickly looked away.

“Load up,” he said. His voice was a little rough.

I climbed into the passenger seat. The truck smelled like leather and pine. It was a man’s smell. I took a deep breath. It turned me on.

We hit the road. It was a three hour drive to the campsite. We talked about school and my classes. Then he asked about my friends.

“You going to miss that boyfriend of yours?” he asked.

I laughed. “Ex-boyfriend. And no. He was an idiot.”

“I thought you liked him,” Dad said.

“He was a boy,” I said. “He didn’t know what to do with a woman.”

Dad tightened his grip on the steering wheel. I saw his knuckles turn white.

“You’re only 18 Rachel. You’ve got plenty of time to find a man.”

“I know,” I said. “I just get tired of boys who only care about themselves. I need a real man. Someone strong. Someone who knows what he’s doing.”

I looked at him when I said it. He stared straight at the road. He didn’t say anything.

I shifted in my seat. I pulled my legs up and rested my feet on the dashboard. My yoga shorts rode up my thighs. I spread my legs a little. I knew he could see the outline of my pussy through the spandex.

I saw him glance over. He swallowed hard.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Why?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just put your feet down if we hit traffic.”

I didn’t put them down. I left them there for the next hour. Every time he shifted gears his hand brushed near my knee. It made me wet.

We stopped for gas at a lonely station about an hour from the site. It was hot out. I jumped out of the truck to stretch.

I reached my arms way up over my head. My hoodie lifted up. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. My stomach was bare and you could see the undercurve of my tits.

I caught him peeking even though he tried to hide it.

“I’m gonna grab a water,” I said.

I walked past him. I made sure to sway my hips. I felt his eyes on my ass.

When I came back he was pumping gas. I leaned against the side of the truck next to him.

“You ever get lonely Dad?” I asked.

He looked surprised. “What?”

I took a sip of water. Some of it dripped down my chin and onto my chest. I didn’t wipe it off.

“I mean Mom’s been gone a long time,” I said. “You never date. You’re a good looking guy. You’re in great shape. You could have any woman you want.”

He looked uncomfortable. He focused on the gas pump.

“I’m fine Rachel. I’m busy with work. And I have you to worry about.”

“I’m grown up now,” I said. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

I stepped closer to him. I was only a foot away. I could smell his sweat. It was sexy.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right woman,” I said. “Maybe you need someone who knows what you need.”

He looked at me then. His eyes were dark. For a second he didn’t look like my dad. He looked like a man who wanted something.

“Get in the truck Rachel,” he said.

I smirked and climbed back in. I knew I was getting to him.

We arrived at the campsite an hour later. It was totally remote. There was a small lake and dense woods. No other campers. No cell service. Just us.

Dad started unloading the gear. He pulled off his shirt. His chest was covered in dark hair. His abs were defined. He was sweating in the heat.

I watched him. My pussy was throbbing. I imagined those big arms wrapping around me. I imagined his rough hands on my skin.

“You gonna help or just stare?” he asked.

He was smiling but he knew I was checking him out.

“I’m helping,” I said.

I grabbed my bag. I bent over to unzip it. I kept my legs straight. My yoga shorts stretched tight over my ass. I heard him stop moving behind me. I knew he was looking.

I stayed like that for a few seconds. I wiggled my ass a little as I dug through the bag.

“Found it,” I said.

I stood up and turned around. He was busy setting up the tent. He was working fast.

I went into my tent to change. It was hot and sticky. I peeled off my yoga shorts and panties and my hoodie. I was naked. I touched my pussy. I was soaking wet.

I thought about putting on normal clothes. Then I thought about the isolation. Nobody could see me but him.

I pulled on the white tank top. I still didn’t put on a bra. My hard nipples poked right through the thin cotton. I pulled on the denim cutoff shorts. They were tiny. The waistband sat low on my hips.

I stepped out of the tent. Dad had a fire going. He was sitting in a camp chair drinking a beer.

He looked up. His eyes went wide.

“You’re going to wear that?” he asked.

I looked down at myself. “What? It’s hot.”

“You can see your ... everything,” he said.

“So?” I asked. “It’s just us Dad. Who cares?”

He shook his head and took a long sip of beer. “Whatever you say.”

I sat in the chair across from him. I crossed my legs. The shorts rode up high. You could see my panties from the right angle.

We ate dinner watching the fire. The sun went down and it got dark. The only light was the flames. It played shadows on his face. He looked rugged and handsome.

“This is nice,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “Quiet.”

“I’m gonna miss this,” I said. “Being with you.”

He looked at me. “I’ll visit you at school.”

“It’s not the same,” I said. “Here it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you and me.”

He stared at the fire. “Yeah.”

I stood up. I stretched again. My tits pushed against the white tank top. The firelight shone right through it. I saw his eyes lock onto my nipples.

“I’m gonna turn in,” I said.

“Okay,” he said. His voice was thick. “Goodnight Rachel.”

“Night Daddy,” I said.

I walked to my tent. I swayed my hips the whole way. I knew he was watching my ass in those tiny shorts.

I zipped up the tent. It was dark inside. I lay down on my sleeping bag. My pussy was aching. I needed him.

I slid my hand down my stomach and pushed my hand into my panties. I found my clit. It was swollen. I was dripping wet.

I closed my eyes. I pictured him sitting by the fire. I pictured him coming into my tent. I pictured him ripping these tiny shorts off me.

I started to finger myself. I tried to be quiet.

I rubbed my clit fast. I imagined his cock. I’d never seen it but I knew it was big. I knew it was thick. I imagined it stretching me open.

“Oh god,” I whispered.

I came hard. My hips bucked off the sleeping bag. I bit my hand to keep from screaming.

I lay there panting. My hand was covered in my juices.

I heard footsteps outside. Dad was walking to his tent. His tent was right next to mine.

I heard his zipper open. Then close. I heard him lie down.

I wondered if he was thinking about me. I wondered if he saw my nipples through my shirt. I wondered if he saw up my shorts.

I hoped he was hard. I hoped he was suffering just like me.

We were alone out here. Anything could happen.

I smiled in the dark and touched myself again.

I woke up the next morning feeling sticky. The tent was already warm from the morning sun. My sleeping bag was twisted around my legs. I lay there for a minute and remembered where I was and what I did last night.

My hand went between my legs. I was still a little sensitive from how hard I rubbed myself. I smiled. Being out here knowing he was just a few feet away was making me crazy.

I heard the crackle of a fire outside. I smelled coffee and bacon. Dad was already up.

I sat up and stretched. I needed to pick my outfit for the day carefully. We were going hiking. I needed to look sporty but I also wanted to look hot.

I dug through my bag. I found a pair of tiny black running shorts. They had a slit up the side that went almost to my hip. They were loose enough that if I sat the right way you could see everything. I pulled on a pair of sheer pink lace panties underneath. They were the kind that practically dissolved when they got wet.

For a top I chose a gray sports bra. It was tight and pushed my cleavage up. I put a loose white tank top over it but I tied it in a knot above my belly button.

I checked my reflection in my compact mirror. I looked like a college girl on spring break.

I unzipped the tent and stepped out. The morning air was crisp. Dad was by the fire cooking eggs in a cast iron skillet.

He looked up. He was wearing cargo shorts and a faded green t-shirt that hugged his chest. He had a baseball cap pulled low. He looked rugged. He looked like a man who could survive anything.

“Morning,” he said. He gave me a quick once over. His eyes lingered on my bare midriff.

“Morning Daddy,” I said. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. The movement pushed my tits out. “Sleep okay?”

“Fine,” he grunted. “Coffee’s ready.”

I poured myself a cup and sat on the log next to him. I sat close with our knees almost touching.

“So where are we hiking?” I asked.

“There’s a trail up to the ridge,” he said. “Great views. Then we can loop back to the lake.”

“Sounds sweaty,” I said. I licked my lips. “I like getting sweaty.”

He choked a little on his coffee. He set the mug down hard.

“Eat your breakfast Rachel,” he said. “We need to get going before it gets too hot.”

We cleaned up and headed out. Dad walked in front. I watched his calves flex with every step. He had great legs. Strong and hairy. I found myself staring at his ass in those shorts.

The trail got steep fast. It was hot. The sun beat down on us through the trees. Within twenty minutes I was glistening with sweat. My shirt stuck to my back.

I watched Dad’s shirt darken with sweat in the center of his back. It smelled like musk and pine. It was intoxicating.