The Camping Trip (closed for garajd)

onehotwife4u

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The plane pulls up to the jetway and several minutes later I come into the waiting area with my duffle bag. I recently graduated from college and you have arranged for us to go on a week-long camping trip before I start my new job. Mom isn't much of a camper, so it will be just the two of us. I've been looking forward to a chance to relax after the stress of finals and graduation and can't wait to do some hiking and nature photography.

My name is Julie. I am 5' 6" tall and weigh about 125 pounds. I have long blonde hair that I am wearing pulled back in a pony tail, long tan legs and a tight trim tummy. Although you can't see it, my pussy is covered with light pubic hair that resembles a feather. My breasts are about the size of grapefruits and are topped with pert, pink nipples that stick out like little pencil erasers.

Today I am wearing a tight pink spaghetti strap t-shirt, very small denim shorts, sock and tennis shoes. My shorts are so small that you can see a hint of my ass cheeks peeking out from the leg holes.

You smile as I come close and wrap my arms around you, giving you a big hug. Grabbing my duffle bag, you lead me to the baggage carousel to retrieve my suitcase before going to the parking garage where your car awaits.



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Knowing we are going to be 'in the wild' for the next week, I am driving my Jeep. Mary, my wife, is not into camping, so she was very content to suggest that Julie and I take this week just for the two of us. With your plane not due in until just after noon, Mary and I took the time for a nice slow love-making session . . . hopefully to keep us both satisfied for the next week until Julie and I get back home.

I'm Brad, 53, married. In addition to Julie, we have a son, who will graduate next year. His school is a couple of weeks behind Julie's, so he won't be home for summer break until after the camping trip; I'm sure he is upset about missing this trip. I own a consulting business in the city and can take vacation time whenever I want. The company is very successful and allows us many opportunities . . . nice house in the suburbs, pool, etc.

Getting to the airport and parking in the short-term lot, I walk into the terminal just as they announce the arrival of your flight that will taxi and unload in 15 minutes. Grabbing a Starbuck's on my way, I watch as the passengers start to file into the terminal. You must have been sitting in the rear as you are among the last to show your face (and body). Damn, baby, I knew my daughter was gorgeous, just like your Mom, but you look stunning. And I can see several other men giving you more than a second look.

And when you walk up to me and wrap your arms around me in a tight hug, they all inwardly groan. I can feel your full breasts pressed into my chest . . . even an old fart like me can tell when someone hugging him is not wearing a bra. And with tits like your Mom, it's hard not to imagine what they look like uncovered.

"Hi, baby . . . ready for some R & R after 4 years of hard work?" After grabbing your suitcase from the baggage carousel, we head out to the Jeep. "I decided that if we were going to be roughing it for the next few days, I needed a Jeep to do it in . . . and your Mom agreed."

Throwing your stuff in the back with the tent and camping gear, we jump in and, after paying the parking fee, head out . . . top off and wind in our faces. "There's a Wal-mart just before we get to our camping area where we can stock up on some supplies."

As we start driving, there is no way I can keep my eyes from wandering . . . our braless t-shirt presses against your breasts in the wind, nipples damn near poking holes in the shirt. And those damn shorts you are wearing . . . saw just enough of your tight cheeks when you climbed in to give even your father a twitch in his groin.
 
During our drive to Wal-Mart, I catch you stealing a glimpse at my bare legs but pretend not to notice. I do decide to have a bit of innocent fun though and put my feet up on the "oh shit" bar above the glove box, giving you a good view of my firm thighs and tight calves. My denim shorts have ridden up even further and I wriggle a bit in my seat as I try to pull the hem down without much success.

You have the top down, so the wind is washing over my face, causing my blonde hair to whip about. I close my eyes and lean back into the seat. Yes, when I hugged you back at the airport, I did feel a lump in the front of your pants and I smile, remembering a phone conversation I overheard between mom and one of her gym friends. In a whispered voice, she was telling her friend that you were well-endowed. Now, even though I was a virgin, I knew what she was talking about but wondered what she meant by "well-endowed."

Before long you pull into the parking lot of Wal-Mart and we hop out to get s few last minute items for our trip.
 
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Is she teasing me . . . or is she really that naïve? The way you lean back in the seat and prop your legs up seems almost like an invitation to look, especially with your shorts riding up your ass a bit more as you slide down in the seat . . . with your eyes closed, at least I can re-arrange the growing matter between my legs and not be too obvious.

I nudge you as we pull off into the Wal-Mart lot and as I get out of the jeep, I watch in my mirror as you tug your shorts back down to cover as much as possible. As we walk in the store, I notice that every man under the age of 70 is looking at your body. Grabbing a cart, "Mostly we need cold items that we can keep in the cooler for a couple of days; then we can come back to town and re-stock."

I'm doing fine until you bend over the fresh fruit bins on the floor for some apples and oranges. The material is tight enough that I'm pretty sure I'm seeing the material split your pussy lips.
 
As we finish shopping and head to the check out lines, I say, "Oh! We should get sunscreen. Especially if we want to do any swimming. Go on and get in line." I turn and scamper off before disappearing down one of the aisles.
 
"OK, sweetie, I'll wait her for you." As I stand at the end of the aisle, a couple of middle-aged women walk past and give me a dirty look, probably wanting to say something about this "dirt old man" or "that sugar daddy" . . . I just smile and let them think whatever they will. I watch as a couple of guys watch you walk down the aisle, saying something to each other . . . what the fuck, boys will be boys.

Once you find the sunscreen, we make our purchase and head back to the jeep and find our way to the campsite . . . secluded, just up from the beach, a beautiful location. "How about a quick walk down to the beach, then we can set up the tent?"
 
"Sure, daddy. That sounds good," I say with a smile. Taking a seat at the picnic table, I untie my shoes and remove my ankle socks. Putting a foot up on the bench, I look at it critically and mutter, "I guess I should have re-done my toe nails. They look kind of rough." After wriggling my toes a bit, I hop up and say, "Okay, daddy. let's see what the beach looks like."
 
"Sweetheart, by the time we've been here for a week, I don't think you will need to worry about what your toe nails look like. The sandy beach and hiking thru the woods will take care of any polish you try to keep on."

Damn, girl, if you lift your leg like that one more time and those shorts get any tighter . . . I'm going to forget all about you being my daughter.
 
"Hmmm, maybe you're right," I say, taking one last look at my bare toes. Reaching over, I take your hand as we walk towards the beach.

"I hope the water is warm," I say. "It will be nice to be able to cool off after we get sweaty from hiking all day."
 
"Should be warm enough for a swim and relaxing after a hike. Hope you brought your suit. Don't know what all Mom thru in the camping gear for you."
 
We follow the trail from our campsite down to the beach. As we walk along the beach, I notice a few people but not too many. The warm sand feels good between my toes and the clear water is inviting. "Daddy, we were lucky to get that campsite. It seems very quiet and peaceful, being the furthest away from the shower house and all."

When you mention my swimming suit, I say, "Well, knowing mom, she packed my old one-piece. Lucky for me I packed my new one in my duffle bag."
 
"I think that since we have been up here before, and I know the manager pretty well, we got first choice of sites for the week." As we walk across the sandy beach, I take your hand in mine. "Well, Julie, once we get the tent set up, if you want, we can change and come down for a swim. After your flight today and the drive up here, I figure we will wait until tomorrow to start hiking and giving you a chance to use your camera."

Not sure what you will find packed, but can only guess how revealing your new suit is that you packed.
 
"Okay daddy," I say as we head back towards the campsite. Once we arrive back at the site, we unload the Jeep and I help you get the tent pitched. "Nice tent," I say once we get it up. A large nylon dome tent, advertised to hold 6 people, but more like 4 comfortably. Tall enough to stand in, with large screen windows all around.

After the tent is up, you start blowing up the air mattress, which is a thick king-sized mattress. You see me eyeing the air mattress and tell me it will be more comfortable to have one really big mattress instead of two small ones.

Once the mattress is inflated, I bring my sleeping bag and duffle bag inside. As I crawl around on the floor straightening out my sleeping bag, you get a really nice view of my bottom. After my things are arranged, I begin to set up the cooking area while you get your gear set up inside the tent.
 
Maybe one king-size mattress wasn't such a good idea for this trip; but if Julie has her own sleeping bag, we should be ok. As she flitted around the tent, setting up her sleeping bag, and putting her bags against one wall, she seemed oblivious to the view of her butt she kept giving me. Her Mom has a sweet ass, but Julie's is just much younger and tighter . . . going to be a tough week to keep my focus where it belongs . . . and not on her butt.

She was right; as I open my bag, I find the swim suit that Mary found and packed for Julie . . . a one piece that I know you will just laugh at and toss aside. Turning toward you, "Here you go, Julie . . . Mom took care of you."
 
You emerge from the tent holding my old green one-piece bathing suit in your hand. With a smirk, I take it from you and say, "See, I told you. I'll never get a decent tan wearing this thing."

I go back inside the tent and toss the old suit into a corner before closing the zipper behind me. I remember to close the nylon privacy flap on the door, but leave the window flaps open so a breeze flows through the stuffy nylon dome.

Opening my duffle, I dig around until I find my new pink string bikini. I tug my thin t-shirt over my head and toss it on top of my duffle before unsnapping my shorts and sliding them off my hips, followed by my white cotton panties. With a soft kick, I push the discarded items over towards my shirt.

I step into the nylon bikini bottoms and tie the strings at each hip before sliding into my top and tying the strings behind my neck. I grab my shorts and step back into them, deciding to wear them until I get to the beach, but leave my discarded panties and shirt where they lie.

Grabbing my flip flops, I unzip the screen door and emerge from the tent so you can change. "Your turn," I say with a smile.
 
"Sounds good to me," stepping into the tent and flipping the flap behind me, but not bothering to zip it closed, I step out of my shorts and bikini briefs and slip on my swim suit, a long leg pair that is comfy and modest. I do notice that you are still the person you are at home; panties and shirt tossed aside. No bra in sight, so my observation that you were braless is confirmed.

And that damn string bikini top you are wearing now barely covers your 22=year old tits; I wonder what the bottom will look like when we go down to swim. Stepping back out in my trunks and sandals . . . a couple of towels in hand . . . "OK, baby girl, let's go."
 
"Remember to grab the sunscreen," I say when you emerge from the tent. We walk back down to the beach and I point to an area at the far end. "That looks nice over there, okay?"
 
"Sure, got it. Did you fill the cooler with some water and beer?" I hand you the sunscreen and pick up the cooler and follow you down the trail to the beach. Setting the cooler in some shade and hanging the towels over a tree branch, I watch as you slide your shorts down and reveal the tiny bikini bottom that barely covers your pussy and only about half of your ass.

Looks like I am going to have to spend most of the time in the water to keep from embarrassing myself in front of my daughter.
 
Pulling a couple out and opening them, I hand you one and then clink my bottle against yours, "Here's to a fun father/daughter vacation!!" I have no idea exactly what the next 7 days will bring, but, the possibilities are endless . . . hiking, swimming, lots of father/daughter talk and bonding, only the next 7 days will tell!!

Damn, I know you are my daughter, but the swell of your breasts in that bikini, and the way it molds round your pussy . . . it's enough to affect any man with red blood in his veins . . . even your father.
 
"Thank you," I say as I take the cold beer from you. "To an adventurous week!"

I take a sip and feel the cold liquid slide down my throat and into my belly. I recline on the towel, resting on my elbows and taking in the scenery. "Too bad mom couldn't be here," I say. "She has no idea of the beauty she misses out on by not getting outdoors and sleeping under the stars."

As we make small talk, I reach over for the sunscreen and squirt a stream of the gooey white liquid onto my legs before rubbing it into my skin.
 
Leaning back against a tree, I watch you and my mind starts doing some crazy things. Are you trying to tease me with your almost naked body in that bikini? Are you so naïve that you really don't know the effect you have on men, even your father? Are you a virgin?

Watching you smear the sunscreen on your legs, is enough to cause my dick to squirm in my trunks. This could be a long week if I can't control my feelings about my daughter!!
 
After my legs are covered and the lotion rubbed into my skin, I squirt a glob of the creamy liquid on my tummy and chest, and slowly begin to rub it into my skin. I hand the container to you. "Would you put some on my shoulders and back? I'd hate to get burned on the first day."
 
"I think I can handle that." Squirting a glob in my hand and then rubbing them together, I start by smearing it across your shoulders and neck, moving your bikini tie around your neck just enough to cover everything. Then down your back to the strap cutting across the middle of your back, I slide the strap up and cover that thin area of skin. Finishing your back down as far as the top of your bikini, pretty damn close to your butt, finally sliding my fingers back up your sides until I "bump" into the material of your bikini top that is covering your breasts.
 
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