This story is pure fiction and was only written after speaking at length with a 19yo girl on MSN Chat; she had a 'fantasy' about her father, so I wrote this for her. I know this story is long (4 pages) but I could not bring myself to break it up into chapters. I never like to read stories this long, or longer, so I hope you all understand and do read the entire story as I am sure you will enjoy it, if you are into "Incest" stories, but ones done with a tender touch (I hope). Your feedback would be appreciated.
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I grew up much like any other normal young girl; I loved to play with my dolls and wear pretty new party dresses, the same as any other young girl, but in my senior year at school, things changed for the worse and my whole life turned around. I had been walking home from school one afternoon, and as I passed the local park, a guy had grabbed me and tried to force me into the bushes; where he then tried, but luckily failed, to rape me. When I arrived home and burst through the door, I nearly knocked my father over, as he was about to walk out of the house.
This all happened when I was 18 years old, and after my father saw the state I was in; my blouse was torn open and my hair was all messed up, as well as all the tears running down my face; he made a point saying he would meet me at the school gate every afternoon. After calling the police, and making sure I was fine, and unharmed, he sat me down and made arrangements for me to begin Martial Arts training, so that I could defend myself better.
My name is Vicky, I am tall for a woman; I stand around 5'10", I have shoulder length blonde hair, and I have a well-formed body, slender hips, and a size 34C chest.
As my father worked from home, he could work whatever hours he liked, and as he had already been attending training sessions for himself, he suggested I join him each afternoon after school. He would meet me at school, and from there it was only a 10-minute walk to the "Dojo" where we would practice. After finishing we would either jog home together, or sometimes we would take a slower walk home, stopping for a coffee or even a milkshake.
All through my growing up until 'that day in the park', I had never been really close to my father. Don't get me wrong, I loved my father, and he loved me, but I was always more 'girlie' and he was the more masculine type who would have preferred a son, rather than a daughter. I had always seemed to be closer to my mother way back then, but since I had begun Martial Arts training, the relationship seemed to have changed. Nothing drastic, it was just that my father and I seemed to spend more time together, and soon I saw him in a different light.
By the time I had achieved my first few 'Dan's', I was getting more confidence, and I trained even harder, trying to get to that elusive 'Black' belt like my father had achieved a few years earlier. Even at home I would push him into more training with me so that I could learn even more.
Every year during the summer months, my father and one of his buddies would go fishing and hunting out west; it was his idea of a great and relaxing holiday, and as it was usually just the two of them, and they were both fit and healthy guys, they never seemed to take much supplies with them; preferring to fend for themselves and live off the land for a month.
The next summer my father was busy planning for his yearly trip, and he was all excited, whereas I was getting depressed, as I would have no one to train with and push me for that month. The night before they were to leave, my father had his trailer ready and hitched to his car and he was mentally picturing the good times he would be having very soon. The phone rang, and after he came back from answering the call, he was looking very low and lost.
"Shit! That is all I need!" he declared as he entered the room.
Wondering what was wrong, but knowing that even those words had been hard for him to speak, as he normally never showed his emotions, I ran to his side and asked if he wanted to talk about what was bothering him. After shrugging his head a few times, he finally gave up and began to tell me his problem.
"That call earlier, it was from my friend. The trip is off as he was just in a car accident. He is OK, but his leg is busted, so looks like I miss my trip this year. I was so looking forward to getting out to the bush and running wild once more," he explained.
"Sorry dad, I know how much you look forward to your time away," I said as I gave him a kiss on the cheek and hugged him around the neck. "But there is always next year!" I added.
"True," he answered. "But it seems like such a let-down now. If it had of been last week or even a few days ago, it would have been different, but I have everything ready, and mentally I was already out there running around naked, and being 'at one' with nature," he added.
"Excuse me!" I exclaimed. "Naked? Did I hear you correctly?" I stuttered in shock.
My father turned very red and lowered his face. He had not meant to say naked, but in his depressed state he had forgotten what he was doing and blurted it out in front of me. I sat stunned as slowly he realized what he had revealed, so he decided to explain it fully to me.
"It's OK baby, your mother knows what we get up too. As a matter of fact, years ago when you were little, and my friends' wife was still with him, the four of us used to go together, but your mum stopped once she was the only female. It is not what you were maybe thinking! Geoff and I are both straight and we never do THOSE sort of things, but we both like the freedom to run naked and wild in the bush and not have to do things like wash clothes etc." he explained to me.
He continued to explain to me how they would build a camp site somewhere near a water hole, but they only ever used their tents if there was rain, otherwise they just lay out their sleeping bags near the fire and slept. During the days they would go fishing in the morning for their breakfast, then after doing some training together, they would go hunting to see if they could get a wild pig or even a kangaroo, so they had plenty of meat to eat. In the afternoons they would go running for a few miles and then finish the day with a relaxing swim in the river. It sounded so wonderful and free to me; all except the part of running around naked.
"Dad, if you are really keen to still go, why don't you just go alone?" I asked him.