Daddy Fucked My Ass At The Thunderstorm Cabin

The cabin was deep in the Smoky Mountains, accessible only by a winding dirt road. My father Arthur had planned this weekend for months, a escape from the city. But a summer thunderstorm rolled in the first night, trapping us inside. The fire crackled. The rain pounded the roof. Lightning lit up the valley. And with nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, we turned to each other. The storm raged all night. So did we.