It’s still a bit hazy, but I remember going home depressed because of a recent breakup and finding my father in the same miserable state. We said to hell with everyone else and flopped down in the grass with a bottle of whiskey and a case of beer. I remember rolling over on top of him and asking him to hold me like when I was younger. Then I kissed him. For a moment I thought I shouldn’t, but then I thought “to hell with that” almost immediately. We were both willing, why shouldn’t we?

I wriggled out of my clothes and pulled my father on top of me. He took me as a lover right on the grass. I remember looking up at him, the stars and moon serving as a backdrop to our drunken tryst. I grasped for his hand, and held it tightly as he brought me to my peak. I felt his grip tighten, and was filled with a subtle warmth. I wrapped my legs around his back and pulled him to me for another kiss.


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