Tangled Vines: A Father-Daughter DescentI’m Lena, 20, and this is the story of how my dad, Ethan, and I got tangled in a web of lust and danger that pulled us deep into the abyss in Ember Hollow, a ramshackle settlement carved out of the choking rainforest. It’s raw, reckless, and dripping with heat—a descent into a forbidden bond that thrived on the edge of survival. I’m telling it all, every sweaty, heart-stopping detail, because he became my obsession, my sin, my everything.Dad was 43 when it started, a hard-edged man forged by the wild—cropped brown hair dusted with sweat, gray eyes that pierced like a hawk’s, and a body that could break stone—broad shoulders, ripped arms, and an ass tight from hauling gear through the jungle. He’d raised me alone in our stilted shack after Mom vanished into the river during a flood when I was four. Ember Hollow was our battleground—mud, machetes, and the constant drone of cicadas—and we fought it together, until that fight turned into a fire neither of us could douse.It began last dry season, when I’d returned from a week scouting with the local trappers. The air was thick, the jungle buzzing, and I was wired, craving something primal. I was on the porch, in a tank top and cutoffs, sharpening my knife, when Dad came back from a hunt, shirtless in torn pants, a boar slung over his shoulder. Blood streaked his chest, his muscles flexing, and his bulge pressed against the fabric. My pussy clenched, and I couldn’t look away.“Got dinner,” he grunted, dropping the boar, his voice low as he wiped sweat from his brow. He caught me staring, and a slow grin spread across his face. “What’s that look, Lena?”“Just… impressed,” I said, my voice catching as I stood, my tank clinging to my tits, nipples hard from the heat and him. He stepped closer, brushing dirt off my arm, his fingers rough and lingering, and I felt a jolt shoot straight to my core. “You’re growing up fast,” he murmured, his eyes dipping to my chest, and the spark ignited.That moment hooked me. Over the next month, I stoked it. I’d swim naked in the creek, knowing he watched from the bank, his gaze burning. He’d strip to his briefs to chop vines, sweat dripping down his abs, and I’d linger, my shorts soaked from more than the humidity. We’d sit by the lantern at night, his hand grazing my thigh, and I’d imagine climbing him, fucking him till we broke. It was a slow tangle, a descent I couldn’t stop.Then came the night we fell.A lightning storm ripped through Ember Hollow, the sky splitting with fire, rain pounding the shack. I was inside, in a thong and a cropped tee, when Dad stumbled in, drenched, his pants clinging to his thick cock. He kicked the door shut, chest heaving, and sat beside me on the pallet, his heat radiating.“Fucking chaos out there,” he said, his voice rough, his leg pressing mine. The lantern flickered, and I saw the hunger in his eyes. “Dad,” I whispered, my hand sliding to his thigh, “I want you.” He groaned, grabbing my face and kissing me—deep, savage, his tongue owning mine.I moaned, tearing at his pants, and he yanked my tee off, my tits spilling free—perky, nipples stiff. “Goddamn, Lena,” he growled, shoving me onto the pallet, spreading my legs. He ripped my thong away, diving into my pussy—hot, slick, dripping. He licked me hard, sucking my clit, thrusting his tongue deep as I screamed, “Fuck, Dad, yes!” My hands clawed his shoulders, my hips bucking, and I came fast, soaking his chin.“Gonna fuck you,” he rasped, shedding his pants, his cock springing out—huge, veiny, throbbing. I grabbed it, stroking rough, and pulled him down. “Do it,” I begged, and he thrust in, stretching my tight cunt as I cried, “You’re massive!” He fucked me fierce, the shack rattling, my tits bouncing as he growled, “You’re mine now, baby.” I locked my legs around him, meeting every slam, lost in the descent.He flipped me onto my knees, slamming into me from behind, spanking my ass red as I pushed back, my moans blending with the thunder. “Harder, Daddy,” I pleaded, and he grabbed my hair, pulling hard as he railed me, my pussy dripping onto the pallet. I came again, my cunt pulsing, and he grunted, “Gonna cum,” unloading thick cum deep inside me, filling me as I milked him dry.That night was our plunge. Ember Hollow became our wild frontier. We fucked on a vine bridge at dusk, me bent over the ropes, him taking my ass—yeah, I begged for it after he fingered me with tree sap—wind whistling as I screamed. In a ruined temple, he tied me to a stone altar with liana, teasing my clit with a feather from a macaw until I sobbed, then fucked me standing, moss crumbling under us. One time, we scaled a cliff, and I rode him on a ledge, his hands on my tits, the drop below us as I came.The wildest was a night in a canoe on the black river. I blindfolded him with my scarf, tied his wrists with fishing net, and edged him—sucking his cock, teasing his ass with a paddle tip—until he was roaring, “Fuck me, Lena, now!” I straddled him, riding him hard, the canoe rocking, water splashing as he exploded inside me, my cum mixing with his, the jungle alive around us.We knew it was fucked, knew Ember Hollow’s traders would gut us if they sniffed it out. But out here, his cock, his grunts, his body—they were my descent, my tangled vines. Even now, he’s by the river, pants off, hard and waiting, daring me to fall deeper. And I will, because this odyssey with Dad is my whole damn world.