Sophia's Father

Originally Logan had moved back home to the great Alaskan frontier for a fresh start so to speak. To turn back to his roots. The way of life up here was much different compared to his time spent down in the warmer states and even briefer time spent in Quebec.

It was simpler here. You don't just live, you survive.

Coming back home was his only plan, he hadn't thought much further than that. He had thought the life he had before would simply be left in his past to be forgotten. Until Sarah had called.

She had been, well not a girlfriend but they had been seeing each other off and on during his time as a truck driver. She had been sweet and decent in bed and that's all he had wanted. Eventually she wanted something more from him and he walked away. They had left on decent enough terms, not like they'd be best friends but she hadn't wanted to hold on to him in the hopes of more later either. She hadn't been happy about it all but Sarah had agreed that they just weren't compatible longer term.

That phone call had made him feel a little different about that last talk. The last time they had talked was almost thirteen years ago. At this point the last thing he had anticipated was a phone call from her.

"Listen Logan I'll be real straight with you, I wouldn't have bothered to track you down if my sister wasn't so adamant she wanted nothing to do with this, but you're the only one I have left that might help me." She sounded tired. "I haven't been real honest with you, when we spoke last I had planned that conversation going a lot different."

She was brief and to the point. They had a daughter named Sophia, of which Sarah's sister wasn't very supportive. She had his brown hair and blue eyes and she was short like her mother. Her mother who was sick and dying.

"I know I have no right to ask this of you after keeping it from you Logan, but she's yours and you're all she'll have left."

So, by the end of the year after more phone calls and an expensive trip back down south, Sophia was coming home with him.

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Six years later.

"Dad?" Sophia pokes her head in around the door to the shed, positive her fathers poking at something in here as always.

"Yeah? Whatchu want girl?" He's gruff as ever.

Her father is elbow deep in the engine of their old truck fixing some odd end or another. He's fit, just heading into his early forties. His classic blue jeans and plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He's clean shaven now in their summer months but come closer to the fall he'll grow it out again.

It looks good on him, a lumberjack dream. Sophia blushes at the thought.

She had felt strange about how her life had turned upside down. How this man had suddenly come into her life during such turmoil. She can still remember her Aunt Beth bringing them to the airport to pick him up. They had spoken a few times over the phone but meeting him in person had been different. Minus the fact that it had been for her mothers funeral. She had always pictured him as a blank slate, just a nondescript man. Vague and unknown.

Waiting for him at the pick up zone she had been anxious. She had no idea what he would be like. She can still remember the way she felt when she first saw him. Her Aunt had pointed him out.

"That'll be him." She didn't sound pleased. Given the fact the she had barely heard from her Aunt over the past six years more then proves that point.

He had a simple black pack back slung over one shoulder and a small black suitcase. He was just as handsome then as he is now, although she didn't understand the feeling she had back then.

He had a strong jawline, striking blue eyes and warm brown hair. He had a bit of a five o'clock shadow across his cheeks. Sophia can recall one of those fitness magazines with some model or celebrity splashed across the front promising gym 'gains' and thinking this man fit the description.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts she focuses back on the here and now. Her father is cleaning his hands with an old shed rag. His hands are big and work worn.

"I was just wondering what you think about having for supper? I can start getting things out." Sophia had slowly added household duties over the years here. It had taken her awhile to get used to life up here but now it felt like home. Her thoughts of moving away for college slowly slipped over her last years of highschool. Now at 19 she thought in seasons. What needed to be done in spring to set up for summer to prepare for fall to endure winter. Rinse and repeat and enjoy the things in between. Survival.

"Whatever you can cook up will be just fine." Logan wasn't picky about most things, food being one of them.

He closed the engine hood and turned to follow her back out of the shed.

As they made their way back towards they're little homestead Logan unbuttoned his plaid just enough to be able to pull it up and over off his head. His body fit, not surprisingly knowing how much physical labor he did around the house alone. His chest hair flowed down into a trail that disappeared into the band of his jeans. Shoulders broad and suntanned this time of year.

Sophia averted her eyes. It was both enjoyable and strange living with her father. They lived up further outside of town then the rest. Her father wasn't much of a people person and it was a trait she had started to adopt herself. This meant he was the person she socialized with most instead of the few younger people near her age.

Age was mostly only a number up here. Most folks settle with who they can. 'Slim pickings' the woman at the bar in town would laugh. But it was true there were only a few boys near her age but even then there was a few years between them. She didn't have much interest in them anyways. They were still young in her eyes. Inexperienced and dumb. 'Brazen' the woman called them.

Her father was quite popular with the eyes of the woman in town as well. They'd look and then flirt and while Logan was keen to flirt back it never went further than that.

She can only remember her father bringing a girl home once. She can still recall the sounds she had heard from her fathers room just down the hall from her own. It wasn't unusual for him to go into town on a rare occasion for a drink. She'd be readying for bed as he headed out and would wake in the morning to find him home again in bed himself.

This time she had been awoken late into the night by the sounds of a woman's drunken giggle. She'd heard them move down the hall, the sounds of clothing moving and someone bumping into the wall.

Inside his room things had progressed. At one point it had gone quiet and she had been dozing off to sleep again before a new sound had begun. Her fathers bed was notorious for squeaking. The quick and repetitive noise was unmistakable even given her naivety. The high pitched moans even more so.

Her body had flushed first in embarrassment. She had thought to pull the pillow over her head and attempt to drown out the noise before a deeper groan caused a different flush to burn through her.

Her father's voice carried well through the walls between them. His deep guttural moans over powering the squealing woman in with him. The bed beneath them began to whine in protest as his pace quickened.

Sophia lay frozen, her nether region wet and pulsing as she listened with rapt attention.

The woman in the room gave a series of high quick moans before groaning in release and her fathers pace increased sloppy before he himself moaned deep and loud.

The memory left her squeezing her thighs together before following her father up the steps to their front door.

Their front door opened up straight into the living room. A fairly large open concept space, the kitchen along the wall across from the front door. A staircase immediately to the right of the door leads upstairs to their rooms and the bathroom.

Logan heads upstairs, probably to shower before supper.

Sophia makes her way over to the kitchen and begins preparing to cook. She grabs a basket kept under the sink before making her way over towards a door located under the stairs. She pulls a chain hanging just inside the door to turn on the light before making her way down the old wooden stairs into the cellar. Here they keep their jarred, smoked and other preserved provisions. She grabs a few potatoes out of a bin when she hears the shower start upstairs.

Sophia pauses, knowing she has a moment to herself she hesitates only a second before dropping her basket on top of the bin.

The cellar had been her hiding spot since she got over her fear of the dark space below their home. Here it was quite and mostly undisturbed since her father left most of the cooking to her.

The thought of her father upstairs in the shower alone gave her the last push she needed to unbutton her own jeans and dip a hand into her damp underwear. Sophia had done this more than once down here especially after realizing sound didn't carry up well from the cellar.

Her delicate fingers slide easily between her glossy folds and she can't help a soft sigh from escaping. It turns into a whine as she rolls over her clit with her middle finger in tight circles. She has some time but not a lot. Her father won't be long in the shower and she really does need to begin preparing their meal.

She widens her stance to give herself more room and quickens her pace. Her clit throbs as she pictures her father bare chested in the shower with his own aching length between his legs. She thinks about that night with the woman and recalls Logan's groans of pleasure. Her pussy gushes warm and wet and if she's not careful her jeans will stain damp with her arousal.

The shower upstairs turns off and it only heightens the feverish want within her. She can hear her father moving around upstairs and the idea of him coming down stairs to find her knuckle deep and moaning is what sends her over the edge. She throws her other hand over her mouth tight as her thighs quiver and threaten to give out on her as her cunt throbs hard. She's moaning high and needy behind her hand, hips rolling into her hand as the pleasure slowly subsides.

Her hand is soaked along with her panties but there's no time to change. She quickly grabs one of the kitchen towels left on one of the shelves, hastily wiping her hand before fixing herself.

She's just grabbing the last of what she needs when her father calls down the cellar stairs for her.