Spreading Mom’s Ashes

Dad and I went to Mom’s favourite spot, up in the mountains. It was about an hour’s drive from home, followed by a four hour hike. I remember it seeming like a lot longer, when I was little. It’s possible that was just because I’d been a kid, and therefore hadn’t had a very good sense of time. But admittedly, I’d also been a stubborn little thing back then, always insisting on walking the whole way myself rather than letting Daddy carry me, so it’s possible it really had taken as long as I’d thought. Either way, this time Dad and I had done it in four, arriving by early afternoon. We dropped off our packs, then walked around the small lake until we found a spot we liked, a big rock to stand on with the wind coming from our backs. We’d each said a few words, telling Mom how much we loved her and missed her, then we opened up the urn and let her ashes float out onto the water. Dad found a tree to rest against, and I sat down between his thighs, holding his arms tight around my waist with my own. We cried and cuddled, sharing our favourite stories and memories—the ones that were too personal for us to have shared at her funeral a few days before. We stayed there until the sun started to set, holding hands on the way back.

The cabins were actually more of a set of row-houses, and were about as simple as it was possible to be; four walls, two small shelves for beds, no plumbing, no heating, and only a single small, thick-paned window for a bit of light. Perfect, in other words, as least as far as Mom had been concerned. They were really meant more for cross-country skiers and snowshoers in wintertime, but they were quite pleasant in summer, too. It wasn’t crowded, but we did have neighbours this time; a couple and their two small boys, about four and six, on our left, and a trio of college students, two girls and a guy, on our right. Dad and I politely nodded and waved hello, but we didn’t feel like socializing. Besides, we really wouldn’t have fit in. The couple were trying to teach the boys how to roast marshmallows, fighting to keep the overly-excited youngsters from accidentally flinging sticky, flaming goo into each other’s faces. The college kids, meanwhile, looked like they’d packed in enough beer and White Claws to drown a mule, and were determined not to pack anything but empty cans back out. Dad and I set up our propane burner and cooked a quick supper for ourselves, then visited the outhouse, hung our remaining food from the bear scaffold, and turned in for the night.

“Hey Dad…” I asked as we were setting up our thin foam mattresses and sleeping bags. “Do you think, maybe, it would be okay if we shared? I think I could just really use the extra cuddles tonight, you know?”

“Of course, sweetie,” he said, pulling me into his arms and holding me tight, kissing my hair. “Anything you need. Always.”

I managed not to cry again, if barely, and we quickly swapped things around, doubling up the mattresses and unzipping the sleeping bags to use them like blankets instead. We turned our backs to each other as we got ready for bed, Dad stripping down to just his boxers, me changing into the thin, comfortable little sleep shirt and fresh panties I’d packed for the purpose. Dad crawled in first, piling up our discarded jackets and clothing to use as a pillow for himself, then welcoming me in beside him to rest my head on his warm, firm biceps, wrapping me in his arms and holding me close. I felt kind of self-conscious at first, with my firm, D-cup breasts pressed so tightly against his chest, only the thin fabric of my shirt separating us, my long, slender legs partially entwined with his. But I just felt so warm, and cozy, and safe, and loved… I forced myself not to think about it too much, and just snuggled in closer, giving him a gentle kiss good-night on his strong, hairy chest.

I think that’s all that ever would have come of it, if it hadn’t been for those college kids. They moved their party indoors not long after we’d turned in, and it became immediately apparent that the three of them were more than just friends. Their moaning, squealing, and the squeaking of their bed shelf were bad enough already, but the yells of ‘Yeah, give it to her Daddy! Fuck that little slut while she eats my pussy! Make her fucking cum!’ were on a whole other level. I felt bad for the parents of those boys, but hopefully with our room in the middle to separate them from it they wouldn’t be hearing it too clearly. For us though, they were just on the other side of the wall, maybe six inches, tops, between them and us. I tried not to listen, but I couldn’t help it, nor could I help my response. I so did not want my pussy getting wet while I was laying half-naked next to my own dad! But that’s what was happening all right, my nipples firming up like a pair of marbles attached to my breasts, the heat between my thighs spreading and rapidly growing in intensity, my juices beginning to flow. God… if this kept up he was totally going to be able to smell me, too! If he couldn’t already, it wouldn’t be long. I squirmed a little, trying to find a position to lay in where I could more tightly close my thighs, and that was when I felt it; hard and thick and long, almost scaldingly hot to the touch of my thigh where my movement had made it sneak out through the leg of his boxers.

“Oh!” I gasped, my surprise short-circuiting my brain into speech before I could think to pretend it had never happened.

“Uhhh… sorry, sweetie,” Dad said, the guilt and regret clear in his voice as he reached down to tuck himself safely back inside. “It’s just those college kids… I can’t really control it.”

“It’s not your fault,” I wanted to reassure him. At least it was dark enough now that he wouldn’t be able to see me blushing. “I totally get it. It’s really turning me on, too.”

“It is?” he asked, and I couldn’t help it; his obvious surprise made me laugh.

“You couldn’t tell, from the way my nipples have been trying to bore a hole through your chest?” I asked.

“Well…” he shyly admitted. “Maybe a little, now that you mention it. I didn’t want to say anything.” He kissed me softly in my hair, making me sigh. “But to be completely honest… there was maybe a bit more behind my reaction than just the kids next door.”

“Oh…” I said again, swallowing nervously as I unpacked the meaning of what he’d just said. It was understandable, really. He may be my father, but he’d been a man, first; why shouldn’t he respond that way, when he felt my nipples firming up against his chest the way they were? The truth was, maybe I’d been a little guilty of that sin, myself. It was mostly because of what was happening next door, sure. But being held so tightly in his arms, feeling the strength of him, smelling the sweat on his skin and feeling the way his chest hair tickled my nose… that sure hadn’t hurt matters any. But unlike him, I was way too much of a coward to admit it out loud.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, if saying that made you uncomfortable,” he said, after I’d proved that no more was forthcoming from me.

“No, it’s not that,” I hurried to explain. “Actually… it’s really kind of flattering, even. I’m just…”

“What is it, baby?” he asked. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Well…” I sighed, giving up and deciding to just say it. “It’s just that I’m so turned on now, I’m really trying to figure out how I’m ever going to fall asleep, if I can’t make myself cum first and get it out of my system!” It may have been getting darker, but I could still see well enough to recognize the look of shock on his face. Then he started to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” I objected, giving him a firm thump on his side. “Cut that out!”

“It is funny, but not for the reason you think,” he kept chuckling and shaking his head. “It’s funny because I was thinking almost the exact same thing myself, just before you said it!”

“You were? Really?” I asked, and he nodded, finally getting his laughter under control.