I’m an avid hunter and have been since I was thirteen years old. There’s something primal and fulfilling for me to go out in the woods and stalk deer and elk whether I kill something or not. I love being outdoors.
My best friend from high school, Brian, and I have been hunting for over thirty years. I’ve introduced my kids to it, and although they enjoy the benefits of having venison to eat, they haven’t gotten into the whole ‘nature’ thing as I have. However, Brian’s daughter, Carla, is a different story.
Carla has enjoyed being out with us on many of our trips, being in the woods, whether we’re scouting, hunting, or even camping. I think that’s one of the main reasons Carla’s studying to be a biologist. She’s a junior in college and, due to her studies, hasn’t been hunting with us during the last two seasons. She was as close to being my daughter as she could get without being blood-related.
I coached her and my own daughter in softball for about ten years, watching them both improve each year as they grew. Sleepovers were common at our house. My wife, and I hosted the entire team from time to time. My daughter Megan and Carla were best friends for many years, but they went their separate ways about the time they got their drivers licenses, but always remained friends.
Carla, Brian, and I had drawn tags for a late November elk hunt which meant heading out and returning to camp in the dark, plus the possibility of snow. We’d done it before and had been successful tracking elk through the snow.
This trip was going to be one which I’d never forget. We were due to depart the day after Thanksgiving. Carla and Brian would be in Brian’s truck and me in mine. Having two vehicles makes it easier to haul things, and we don’t have to hunt the same areas.
I was home making Thanksgiving dinner for my kids since my wife and I had separated and considered divorce. Her idea, not mine. Brian called me and asked if Carla could ride with me. He had a business meeting on Monday afternoon he couldn’t change.
Naturally, I said yes and that we’d go out opening day to at least locate a herd. If we stumbled onto something we couldn’t pass up, we’d take a shot. He said that was fine, along with being sorry for missing opening day. I told him it was all good. I’d help Carla pack out her elk since she’s much better at hunting than we are. He laughed, thanking me once again.
The drive out to our cabin takes about five hours. Preseason we make sure it’s clean and habitable for living in while hunting. We stock it with canned foods, make sure we have enough firewood, plenty of blankets, and propane.
Brian and I bought it together about fifteen years ago. It was pretty run down, so we spent the first year fixing it up. We brought our families out and camped on the property, each visit we’d make repairs and improvements. It turned out pretty nice, but interest in family outings waned as the kids grew older. Our wives continued joining us until my wife decided she’d had enough of me. Brian’s wife joins him at times but, it’s more of an escape for Brian, Carla, and me.
I picked Carla up around seven Friday morning. She apologized for her dad having his meeting when she greeted me at their front door. I told her I was sure he’d rather be with us than there. She giggled and nodded her head. She was dressed in tight jeans, hunting boots, and a tee-shirt from her university covered by a red flannel shirt. Carla had tied her long brunette hair back in a ponytail. She had her lucky hunting baseball cap on, so I knew she was anxious. She looked like a model from an L.L. Bean catalog. We loaded up her things plus all the fresh food, leaving Brian with his bare essentials.
Carla and I talked the first hour of the drive, catching up, and then she plugged herself into her phone as I drove. We stopped for lunch at our usual place, in the closest town to our retreat. I bought it despite Brian giving Carla money for us. I told her to keep it and tell him she bought it. She laughed and tucked her money away with a big smile, thanking me in the process. We got a couple of sandwiches ‘to go’ for our dinner because we usually don’t cook after driving and unpacking. We tucked them away in an ice chest then continued on the road. Our banter resumed for a bit until, once again, Carla played with her phone.
We arrived at the cabin close to dusk, there was enough light left outside to unpack the truck, and we settled in. Carla lit a couple of lanterns so we could see as we set about putting our things away. The cabin has propane for cooking, an outhouse, and a wood-burning fireplace but no electricity. Brian and I added amenities over the years so our wives would be somewhat comfortable when we visited. It made the place livable yet still rustic. Solar was something we’d considered, but the cost was a bit much for us due to the infrequency of use.
With everything put away, Carla lit a fire to get the cabin heated up. The forecast was for light snow, maybe an inch overnight. We’d dealt with that couple of times. I always carry chains in addition to having a four-wheel-drive on the truck. It had snowed a few days before, which might make stalking elk noisy with the crunching ice as we walked. Fresh snow would be good for tracking.
We sat down to eat our sandwiches, with maps unfolded on the table to discuss our plan of attack in the morning. We decided to head out to a canyon where we’d previously had success. It wasn’t a strenuous hike, but we’d cross a small stream. We’d take the spotting scope because we could see at least three more valleys that the elk enjoyed at the crest of the ridge.
With our plan set and dinner over, we adjourned to the sofa to read or try to text in Carla’s case. It didn’t take long for her to remember we have spotty cell service, so out came a slew of gossip magazines she’d brought along. She tended the wood stove, and soon after dinner, the cabin began to feel like home. Carla peeled out of her flannel shirt, laying it on the arm of the sofa. I glanced over and at her movement and was surprised to see how much she’d grown. I hadn’t seen her in two years, and that flannel covering her chest hid the fact that Carla matured very nicely. I kept my pervy thoughts to myself, remembering she was my best friend’s daughter, and went back to reading.
We sat quietly, reading for another hour or so. Carla stoked the fire again, gazing at it from time to time, contemplating something profound, I assumed. I glanced over her at times, admiring how sweet she looked, remembering the sight of her breast stretched against the fabric of her tee as the fire silhouetted her young body. I had always thought she and my son would have made a perfect pair, but it was not to be.
We adjourned to our separate rooms, leaving the doors open so the wood stove would keep us reasonably warm during the night. We brought extra blankets for our sleeping bags because nobody likes to get up and stoke the fire in the middle of the night.
I woke around four mainly because I have a hard time sleeping anywhere new. Or maybe it was the raging hard-on I had caused by something I must have been dreaming about. I lay there and let it settle down before getting up to go into the main room. I was a bit chilled, even with the extra blanket tucked around my sleeping bag. Using my headlamp, I got dressed. Quietly, I went out to the main room and added more wood to the stove. It didn’t take long before the coals burst into flames with the new wood. I chuckled to myself, thinking about wood. I hadn’t had sex for at least six months, not wanting to give my soon-to-be ex-wife any ammunition for our divorce.
I turned off my headlamp to sit and watch the fire, thinking about my life and how I got to where I was. The pending divorce weighed heavy on my mind. My wife and I had slowly drifted apart as the kids grew older and quit depending on us. I could see why Becky wanted more than I could give her. I’d spent more time and energy on the kids and myself than I had on her.
About five, I got the coffee water boiling on the stove for Carla and me. She brings instant coffee and can’t leave the cabin without her first cup. She wandered out of her room just as the water was boiling; all dressed and ready to go.
We said our good mornings, ate some cold cereal as we made sure we had our gear and lunches all set and ready to go. By six, we were in the truck heading out, excited to be back in the woods. There was a light snow falling as we drove to our drop-off point. I wasn’t worried, the gravel road hadn’t iced up, and I didn’t feel the truck swerve at all as we took curve after curve making our way into the woods.
I parked just a bit off the road facing back the way we came in. If the snow got a bit heavier, I wouldn’t have to turn around. We both had to do our business, so we went separately into the woods before taking off down the trail.
With muffled voices, we loaded our packs onto our backs, grabbed our rifles then headed out to what would be an eventful day.
Silently we trekked through the snow, stopping to look and listen every few yards. We’d gone about a half-mile looking for elk prints in the snow when Carla spotted them. The trails were scattered over twenty feet wide, multiple tracks heading off to our left and uphill. We took a closer look and discovered one much larger than the rest on the side of the hill. Carla tapped me on the shoulder then pointed down. She whispered, ‘dew claws’ he’s a big boy and smiled.
I grinned, suggesting she go first, splitting off the trail heading south while I headed north. We’d hunted together for so many years we knew each other’s pace so we wouldn’t get ahead of one another, which could be dangerous.
So, off we went staying as silent as we could in the new-fallen snow. I caught up with the herd after about a half-mile of stalking. I knew Carla was close by, so I sat watching, waiting for the herd bull to appear. All I could see were cows and calfs milling about, unaware of my presence. The air was still, and they weren’t nervous at all. Then suddenly, a shot rang out, and they scattered. Luckily, I was hidden behind a thick pine because three cows and a calf came hurtling towards me. I remained where I was until the sounds of hoofbeats and crunching limbs subsided.
Then I slowly walked out to where the elk had been feeding. There stood Carla facing me, her finger to her lips, motioning me to be quiet. I stopped in my tracks as we listened. Then it happened. A dull thud, a few breaking branches, then silence. She pointed at the ground showing me the beginning of the blood trail. I smiled as we high-fived the air.
To make a long story short, she’d killed an excellent five-point bull. We spent the rest of the day butchering him and packing him out to the truck. It was dark when we returned to the cabin tired and hungry. Carla flicked on her headlamp and entered the cabin to light the lanterns. We then secured the elk and went inside for dinner. I opened a couple of cans of chili while Carla lit the wood stove.
When the fire was going strong, Carla opened our celebration stash of bourbon and cigars.
I looked over at her smiling face as she poured two shots, “What are you doing?”
She giggled, “Starting to celebrate, silly. It’s the tradition, you know.”
I stirred the chili, “I know it is but, you’re underage and don’t smoke cigars.”
She laughed this time, “I just killed the biggest bull elk ever and helped you cut it up and pack it out. I can do what I want, and I’m good to go, so shut the fuck up, mister.”
I stood stunned, calculating the years, “Oh, that’s right, you turned twenty-one like last week. Miss potty mouth.”
She handed me the shot glass, “No, I didn’t. We’re not in a bar, and this is THE tradition. I don’t care if I’m legal to drink. I want to party. We can smoke the cigars after dinner outside.”
I grinned. Carla was cute and challenging to say no to.
“Fine, we’ll celebrate with cigars and bourbon after dinner, young lady.”
I took the glass, and we toasted. She grinned as we both slung back the bourbon. Her face scrunched as the liquor burned down her throat.
Carla sat the glass down hard on the table, exclaiming, “Damn, that tasted good.”
We both laughed then I set my glass down next to hers.
“Let’s eat before we have another. It’s almost ready. Can you get the tortillas from the ice chest?”
She found them, then excused herself to go to her room and change into comfortable clothing. She returned wearing sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and fluffy slippers. Her hair was down, and she looked adorable.
I asked her to keep an eye on the chili while I changed. She grabbed a couple of bowls, then cheese from the ice chest as I switched from my stinky clothes into basically the same things she was wearing except for the slippers, I have insulated crocs. The cabin was warming up nicely with the cookstove and wood stove going at the same time.
Carla announced that dinner was ready just as I returned to the room. She’d poured two more shots, and I gave her a look.
She giggled when I noticed them, “What?”
I smiled and sat down to eat, shaking my head.
We ate while Carla went over her story another time. I didn’t mind listening because she was so animated telling it. When we’d finished dinner, we did the dishes. I told her I might take the next day off and let the area settle down. She’d mentioned a satellite bull who might take over since the herd bull was gone. I knew of other places we could look at, and we made plans to head out there in the morning. She’d take her magazines and read while I hunted since she’d filled her tag. If I happened to kill something, she’ be there to help pack it out.
With the dishes done, Carla stoked the stove then put on her down jacket and snow boots so we could go outside and smoke. She grabbed the cigars and the bourbon as I got the glasses after prepping for the cold.
We set the drinks down on a little shelf under a window. I poured as Carla got the cigars out, handing me one. Carla then lifted her cigar to her lips and began licking it.
“What are you doing?”
Carla looked surprised, “Aren’t you supposed to lick it before smoking it?”
I laughed, “No, it’s not needed, sweetie. Here let me cut the end and light it for you.”
She handed it to me, I clipped the dry end and gave it back to her. I opened my ceremonial Ronson lighter and lit it as she puffed. I smiled, waiting for her to cough. She was right on time, gagging as the cigar smoked. I took it from her as she coughed, taking a puff from it. Why waste a good cigar?
We ended up sharing it, and I told her how to smoke it. Showing her with each pass between us. When she had it down, I poured more shots. We toasted, and she began talking again about how exciting it was to sneak up on the herd. She walked me through the shot again and how she had to wait for the bull to line up perfectly so she wouldn’t hit a cow.
We kept trading puffs as we stood out in the cold, taking shots and telling each other stories. When we finished the cigar, I tossed it in the snow, thanking Carla for being there and that I was glad she’d killed a very nice bull.
She was feeling no pain from the shots of bourbon as we headed back in. She was in front of me holding the glasses when she slipped on the icy step falling back into my arms. I managed to hold onto the bottle as she fell back. My arms reached around her, just under her breasts catching her. She giggled as she landed against me, taking her time to get back on her feet.
My arms were just under her breasts, pressing upward into them. They were firm and round and felt way too good to a guy that hadn’t had any sex for a long time and six shots of bourbon. Despite the alcohol, I managed to develop a bulge in my pants. Carla discovered it as she leaned back into me, trying to straighten up. Her ass pressed into my crotch as she started to regain her balance. I could feel the crack of her tight ass slowly moving up and down me. The girl knew what she was doing, and it felt amazing.
She regained her balance, and when she was on her feet again, she turned to me.
Smiling and pointing at my sweats, “Did I do that to you?”
“Do what?” I answered, knowing what she was talking about.
She giggled, “Your hard-on, silly. I did that to you, didn’t I.”
I feigned ignorance, “I have no idea what you mean, Carla. Let’s go inside; it’s freezing out here.”
She grinned, “I’m feeling kinda hot. Aren’t you?”
That’s when she took off her coat, exposing her tee along with her rock-hard nipples poking at the fabric. All I could do was stare as she stood there, showing them off. That’s when my erection went full bore.
It took all the courage I had to tell her, “Carla, you’re my best friend’s daughter. You’ve had too much bourbon. Just get in the cabin, and let’s forget this happened.”
She giggled, saluting me, “Yes, sir.”
She turned to wiggle that magnificent ass, then slowly walked up the remaining steps making sure I could see every step. I swallowed hard, hoping my erection would subside. Instead, it was painfully obvious I was aroused. When she got into the cabin, the wood stove had done its job. The place was probably around seventy-five degrees. Carla dropped her coat on the floor then added more wood to the fire.
“Carla, it’s hot enough already in here.”
She giggled as she added another piece of wood then closed the stove door, “Oh, it’s going to get hotter, Paul.”
With that, she stood and reached down to grab the bottom of her tee. Raising it up and over her head to show me her firm, full breasts. Her nipples were like half dollars as she tossed her tee over by her coat and began massaging them.
I had trouble setting the bottle down on the table. My focus was on her. But, once again, I protested, which fell on deaf ears. She walked over to me, slipping her hands inside my jacket to remove it. I stood dumbfounded, completely aware of what was happening, yet unable to stop her. I wanted to, but then again, I didn’t.
My jacket hit the floor as she smiled, moving in to place her lips on mine. Her kiss was seductive. I was caught in her web like a fly, and it felt wonderful. Her left hand dropped to rub my erection over my sweats, the other behind my neck, pressing my face to hers as we stood there making out.
Instinctively I wrapped my arms around her holding her tight. She felt firm like my darling wife did many years ago. Her passion destroyed any thoughts I might have had about stopping her. When she pulled away from me, she was smiling, and the look on her face was like the one she had when she was telling her elk story.
I caught my breath, “Where did you learn to kiss like that, Carla?”
She giggled, “You liked it, Paul?”
I smiled, I was hers, and she knew it, “I did, but you know this is wrong on so many levels.”
“I know, that’s why it feels so good. I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time. Now I have you alone it’s a dream come true.”
I sighed, “Your dad would kill me, you know. I don’t recall him telling me you ever had a boyfriend. He was wondering if you might be gay.”
She laughed, “You really want to know where I learned to kiss like that? And I’m not gay.”
She reached under my shirt to lift it over my head, then proceeded to slip her fingers over my chest to play with my chest hairs.
She looked into my eyes as she toyed with them, “Let’s go to your room.”
I knew everything about this was wrong, but we did it anyway. She spread out my sleeping bag, and the extra blanket then told me to undress. She watched as I removed my sweats and boxers, leaving them crumpled at my feet. I got in; my erection still firm bounced as I lay down on the bed waiting for her.
It was my turn now, watching as she disrobed. She was already topless, so the reveal of the rest of her body was the icing on the cake. Her firm, toned legs were very impressive. I began to picture them draped over my shoulders as she dropped her sweats, revealing her bare pussy. My eyes lit up when I saw a slight glisten between her legs in the glow of the lantern.