Chapter 13
Her Dad’s Best Friend
Itâs pretty small, though, and we sheltered it from the wind. I donât waver when I pour some water on it. The fish is done anyway, and the sweet potatoes will be fine in the ashes.
I had gotten hard watching Camilla bend over, and my erection hadnât gone away. Iâm lucky that her dad didnât come back, because he probably wouldâve slaughtered me and left my body for the bears if he understood how I felt about his daughter. A daughter who was growing more beautiful and womanly by the day. If I didnât want to spontaneously combust, Iâd need to take care of some things.
There is a mountain stream just two minutes from camp. If Camilla needs me, I am within screaming distance.
When Iâm right next to the stream, I strip. It isnât deep, but it is cold. Ice melt is never that nice. I try to pour ice water over my dick, but it refuses to go down. Looks like I have a date with my hand.
Itâs past midnight, and my buddy is sleeping off all the Jack that we drank. Iâm wide awake, and the alcohol has wiped away my scruples. Heâs snoring away in our tent, so I unzip the opening and go out to Camillaâs tent. I unzip it as quietly as I can. I can see just a little slow, steady movement in the scanty moonlight that tells me that sheâs breathing deeply, sleeping like an angel.
I lay down on top of her sleeping bag. I put a hand over her mouth and lean in. I whisper in her ear. âCamilla, wake up.â
Her eyes are barely open. Sheâs saying something muffled by my hand.
âCamilla, you have to be quiet.â I thrust my erection at her. Even through the sleeping bag, she can feel it. She stills.
âCamilla, Iâm going to let go. If you donât want this, tell me now. Otherwise, stay quiet.â
I take my hand away. All I can hear is the hooting of an owl. Her breaths are coming faster and faster.
I have my answer. I pull apart her sleeping bag, yanking down her pajama pants and underwear. I pull her legs over my shoulders so I can pile drive her. If we had privacy, Iâd take my time. Her father, my best friend, is sleeping only feet away. Tent walls arenât much of a barrier.
One hand goes between her legs. Sheâs wet enough for me to take right now, but I rub her for a few minutes anyway. I can tell from her heavy breathing that sheâs trying very hard not to make any noise. Neither of us wants to get busted.
I stop rubbing her and guide my dick inside of her tight pussy. Sheâs incredibly warm on a cool night like this. I feel like Iâm sinking into a sauna.
I hear her panting very quietly. I thrust all the way, and I hear a muffled gasp. Then I canât hold myself back any longer and begin to swing my hips as quietly as I can, getting as deep as I can. Her muscles are contracting around me, fluttering, as I hold back my own groan of completion. Sheâs filled with my come. I want her to keep it, but I know that thereâd be hell to pay if she smelled like me tomorrow morning.
I fumble in the corner for those wet wipes that she brought with her, the ones that weâve been using to wipe our hands before eating. I clean her between her thighs before wiping myself off. I throw the wipe into the garbage bag she keeps in her tent.
âDonât tell anyone.â Sheâs still half-naked under me and my dick wants her again, but weâve taken enough risks for tonight.
I disengage her legs from my shoulders, then I lean down to kiss her, slow and soft. She kisses me back timidly at first, then she pushes her tongue inside of my mouth.
And sheâs not an innocent little girl anymore. Yeah, sheâs eighteen, but sheâs a woman.
When I open my eyes, Iâm standing in a cold mountain stream thatâs carried away my come. I shake myself off and put on my clothes, even though Iâm still a little wet. I walk back to camp.
Itâs so damned inconvenient to want my best friendâs little girl. Maybe itâs just the prolonged exposure, having to be in close quarters all the time. I wonder if any of the women in my little black book would mind being called Camilla while we fuck.
Dress Hunt Camilla NOW I rinse off, then I find my ratty pajamas. Theyâre really old but the most comfortable clothing that I own. Theyâre pink, but sort of a grayish pink after all this time. I shouldâve thrown them away years ago, but they make me feel safe.
I tuck myself into bed with my Kindle, arranging my pillows so Iâm in a cozy nest. Then I hear the garage door open. My dad is home.
âWhere are you, Sunshine?â
I get out of bed and go to the mezzanine. âHere, Dad.â
âHave you eaten yet?â
âNo. Iâm not very hungry.â
âI thought that weâd celebrate your last day of working. Itâll be good for us to spend time together before you have to go back to school. I made a reservation for seven at your favorite place, that Italian restaurant. I invited Lincoln.â
Her Dadâs Best Friend ï¤Chapter 12 Running Away from a Billionaire ï¤Chapter 25 Stomach-turning Ugly Luna's Forbidden Love ï¤Chapter 5 Tags:
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Luna's Forbidden Love