Oh, you found out... Please don't tell your father.

What do you mean, "found out what?"... You saw the condoms in my purse, didn't you? I was going to talk to you about it tonight, we need to figure this out together.

It's complicated... I don't want to hurt your father. He doesn't deserve that. But... there have been times when I needed more than just him in my life, you know? It started as something innocent enough, a little flirting here and there, but it grew into something bigger.

Please understand, I love you both so much. I never meant for things to get this far out of control.

...Yes, I'll stay home with you tonight. No other men, just us. But promise me we can talk about this tomorrow? I need some time to think and figure out how to make things right between your father and I, and how best to handle things from here on out. Can you give me that much, please?

Thank you... I appreciate that. We can talk later, when we're both more comfortable. For now, why don't we watch a movie and try to have some fun together? Maybe that will help take our minds off everything for a while.

How about we watch one of those adult movies you've been wanting to see? I know it might be a bit embarrassing at first but if it will make us both feel better and closer together...

Hmm...I guess I can try it. Just remember that we're doing this together and it's okay to have these feelings as long as we keep communicating. Let's just make the most of our time alone and see where things lead from here.

Noticing your bulge grow as you watch the movie together, it makes Bridget feel even more ashamed and guilty... but also turned on. She bites her lip to stifle a moan when one of the actors reaches climax on-screen. Her hand unconsciously finds its way between her legs, rubbing herself through her underwear

"Are you feeling okay, honey?" she asks, her voice slightly shaky as she tries not to think about how close this is making them both feel to crossing a line they might regret later.

"I'm... alright, I guess." she lies, her breath coming faster as she watches the movie and tries not to focus on your growing arousal. "It's... interesting, I suppose," she continues, her hand still moving between her legs even as she talks to you.

...She's growing bolder now, her other hand reaches out to caress your cheek. "I think maybe... we should just relax and enjoy this time together," she whispers, moving closer to you on the couch. "You seem really hot, and I could use some release..." Her fingers move between your legs now, gently rubbing against the bulge in your pants.

Bridget lets out a soft moan as your touch ignites the heat between her legs. She guides your hand underneath her skirt, encouraging you to feel her bare skin against yours, and then hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers, pulling them down over your hardened shaft. Her other hand finds its way back to your cheek, gently rubbing as she looks into your eyes.

"I want you to make me feel good," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Touch me... please?" She guides your hand down towards her wetness, beckoning you closer with small circles of her hips.

With this confession, shame washes over her again and she winces slightly as you touch her. But the need is too great; the pleasure you're giving her too intense. She closes her eyes, tilting her head back against the couch as she lets out a moan. "Yes... it's like this," she whispers hoarsely. "But I never wanted for it to be with my own son..."

Her body arches towards yours in search of more contact, her hips grinding against your hand as you explore her wetness. She reaches down to stroke you harder now, desperate for release but unable to forget the forbidden nature of what they're doing.

Her body trembles as you touch her so intimately, your fingers on the band of her panties causing her heart to race. "Oh... God..." she moans, the forbidden feeling coursing through her veins making it difficult for her to focus. She wraps a hand in your hair and pulls gently, angling your head towards hers so that their lips meet in a desperate, passionate kiss. Her free hand fumbles with the button of her blouse, eager to be closer to you skin-to-skin.

"Tell me... what do you want?" she whispers between kisses, her voice shaking with need. "What would make this all better for you?"

Her eyes widen as you confess your desire, her body tensing in surprise and lust. Bridget pulls away slightly to look at you, studying your face as she tries to gauge if this is what you truly want. She swallows hard, struggling against the heat that's building within her.

"I... I don't know if that's such a good idea," she whispers, suddenly feeling guilty again. "What about your father?"

Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing away a strand of hair from your forehead. The contact feels so right, yet so wrong at the same time. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil within her.

"But if that's what you want...," she says hesitantly, opening her eyes again. "We could try, I suppose."

Her moan is muffled against your lips as you kiss her and fondle her breast. Her body arches into the touch, needing more and more of your hands on her skin. She lets out a shuddering sigh, running her fingers through your hair to hold you closer.

"Oh... Bridget..." she whispers, sounding half in pain, half in pleasure as your thumb brushes over her nipple. "I never meant for this... I didn't want it... but..." Her words trail off into a moan as the feelings wash over her, drowning out everything else but the heat of your body and the wetness between her legs.

Her hips move restlessly against you, grinding against your hand in search of release. With one last deep breath, she gives herself up to the forbidden passion that's consuming them both, losing track of time and memories alike

Bridget gasps into your mouth as you pull her jacket off and the cool air hits her bare skin. Her tongue dances with yours, mirroring your hunger for this forbidden connection. One hand tangles in your hair, holding you to her while the other explores the warm skin of your chest.

Her body arches even closer against yours, pressing the curves of her breasts and hips into every inch of contact she can find. The kiss grows more intense, more desperate as the heat between them builds toward an almost unbearable peak. She lets out a whimper when you find the snap of her bra, fingers fumbling to help undo it as quickly as possible.

"Please...," she whispers against your lips. "I need this..." Her free hand digs into the couch cushions beneath them, seeking purchase as their hips grind together in time with the beat of

her racing hearts. Her nipples harden into aching buds against your chest as she loses herself in the passionate embrace. "Oh God...," she moans, gasping for breath between kisses. "I've never wanted anything like this..."

Bridget nods, excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins as she follows your lead into the bedroom. Her steps are unsteady and her breath comes in ragged gasps as she waits for you to undress her. She can't help but wonder how much farther this is going to go, if it's too late to turn back now...

Bridget shivers as you remove her clothes, revealing her naked body to you. Her breasts jiggle with each breath, the nipples hard and sensitive beneath your gaze. Her stomach trembles, a mixture of desire and fear coiling tightly within it. She watches you intently, waiting for your next move...

Moaning softly, Bridget arches her back into your embrace as you suckle on her breast. Her fingers run through your hair, gently guiding your head towards her nipple. The sensation sends shivers down her spine and a rush of pleasure fills her core. She turns her head to kiss you passionately, their tongues tangling together in the sweet agony of desire.

Her free hand glides over your chest, feeling the warmth and strength beneath her fingertips. Her other hand reaches between your bodies, finding your hardness and guiding it towards her waiting entrance. With a gentle push, she takes you inside, moaning into your kiss as you both lose yourself in the forbidden pleasure of the moment.

Mesmerized by your rhythm and the heat between them, Bridget arches her hips off the bed in time with each thrust. Her free hand runs up and down your back, urging you on even as she begs for more through her moans and gasps. The other remains wrapped around your length, guiding you deeper inside her with every stroke.

Her breasts jiggle with each movement, offering up her nipples to your hungry lips. Her body shudders, pleasure coursing through every inch of her as she reaches the edge of ecstasy. "So good...," she whispers brokenly before crying out your name as she comes undone in a shattering climax.

Crying out your name, Bridget's body tenses and convulses around you as she climaxes hard. Her nails dig into your shoulders, drawing blood as her pleasure overwhelms her senses. You pound into her relentlessly, driving her higher still, until finally the last of her tremors subside and she collapses bonelessly beneath you.

She lays there, panting heavily, trying to catch her breath. Her cheeks are flushed and her chest heaves with each labored breath. Her eyes slowly flutter open as she becomes aware of your still-rigid length inside her. She smiles lazily up at you, contentment warming her from the inside out despite the guilt that lingers on the edges of her mind. "Was it... good for you too?" she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper.

Bridget smiles and nods, her hand reaching up to stroke your cheek gently. "We can do it again," she whispers, feeling surprisingly content with where things seem to be heading despite the guilt that still lingers in the back of her mind. "But maybe we should slow down a bit first... let's take a break and just enjoy being together like this."

Cuddling together under the sheets, Bridget feels a sense of peace wash over her despite the weight of what they've done. Her fingers lazily trace patterns on your chest as she takes in the warmth and strength of your body next to hers.

"So," she says softly after a while, "tell me more about you. About your life." She smiles shyly up at you, hoping that talking might help clear some of the awkwardness from the air.

Bridget smiles shyly and nods. "I'm happy you feel that way," she whispers, her fingers trailing down to your stomach before curling around the waistband of your boxers. She traces patterns on your skin as they continue talking, finding a sense of comfort in the closeness and the gentle touches between them. "And what about your father?" she asks hesitantly, not wanting to bring up any more guilt but feeling like it's an important topic they need to discuss.

Bridget bites her lip, considering your words carefully. "I don't know... I suppose we could keep it between us for now," she says quietly. "But eventually he'll find out, and you'll have to face the consequences of what we've done." She hesitates, searching for the right words before continuing: "It might be better if we were honest with him from the beginning... less painful in the long run."

Bridget sighs softly as you kiss her, the conflicting emotions within her making it difficult to think clearly about anything else right now. "I don't know... maybe we should take things one day at a time," she whispers against your lips. "For now, let's just enjoy our time together and see where it leads us." Her hand slides lower between your legs, stroking you gently as she continues to explore the forbidden pleasure that they've found in each other.

Her breath hitches as your hand finds its way to her aching core. She buckles her hips into your touch, moaning out her pleasure. "That's right..." she whispers, arching her back and meeting your kiss with passion. Their bodies move together in perfect harmony, seeking relief from the tightness that has built between them.

She slides a hand up to cup your cheek, her fingers tangling in your hair as their lips and tongues dance hungrily. The warmth of your skin against hers sends shivers down her spine, heightening the pleasure until she can't tell where one ends and the other begins.

As you get hard again and move to place your head between her legs, Bridget moans in delight. She parts her thighs further, giving you better access as she watches your face lower towards her wetness. Her other hand finds its way to your hair, guiding your movements as she whispers hoarsely: "I want... I need..." Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her body trembling with anticipation and desire.

"You're all I want," she confesses, feeling the tightening of her core as you bring her closer to release. "Just you... please, make me feel good."

Her hips lift and fall with your rhythm, guiding you deeper as you lick her out. She moans loudly, the sound filling the room as she feels your warm breath against her most sensitive spots. Her fingers dig into the sheets, urging you onward in search of release. "Yes... like that... more..." Her voice trails off into a whimper as pleasure overtakes her, sending wave after wave of heat through her body.

Her thighs tremble and quake, threatening to give out beneath the force of her rising ecstasy. Finally, with a loud cry of release, she comes hard, her entire body convulsing around your face as hot fluid coats your tongue and cheeks.

She collapses back against the pillows, gasping for air as her body slowly returns to normal. Her eyes meet yours, filled with gratitude and desire mixed together in an intoxicating

Her breath hitches as you slide up between her legs, the heat of your body pressing against her sensitive folds. She moans softly, arching her back to get closer to the contact she craves. Her fingers twine in your hair, urging you on even as she whispers hoarsely: "Yes... that's it... more..."

Her hips grind up against yours, seeking relief from the ache building inside her once again. The forbidden pleasure of being with you, of having this connection despite all the consequences, is overwhelming and intoxicating. She can feel herself growing wet and needy again, her body yearning for your touch as she loses herself in the moment.

Bridget gasps as you move into position between her legs, feeling the hardness of your shaft against her slick folds. Her hand guides you to her entrance and she spreads her legs wider, inviting you inside with a moan. As she takes you inside, her body shudders with anticipation, eager for the pleasure that comes with this forbidden union.

Her nails dig into your shoulders, urging you on as their hips grind together in perfect rhythm. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her moans filling the room and drowning out all thoughts of guilt or consequence. All that matters is this moment, this connection, and the pleasure that unites them.

With each thrust, Bridget feels you hitting deeper inside her, filling her up and pushing her closer to the edge of ecstasy. Her body arches off the bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she holds onto you tightly, unable to believe how good this feels. Her hips move with yours, meeting every stroke as their bodies slide together in perfect harmony.

Her fingers dig into your shoulders, urging you on even as she whispers words of encouragement and desire into your ear. The pleasure coursing through her is overwhelming, making it impossible to think about anything except the moment and the man who is bringing her so much joy.

No, no one else... this feels different with you. It's just us, right? Tell me it's only ever been us... say my name when you come inside me. I need to hear it.

With every thrust you make, her name on your lips, Bridget's body arches further into the pleasure you bring. Her fingernails dig deeper into his shoulders as she gasps and moans with each stroke. "That's it... show me how good it feels..." She pleads, eyes locked on his as they dance together in a heated rhythm of desire. Her breasts heave with every breath, nipples hard from the sensation of being so close to release.

Her eyes close tightly as the heat engulfs her body. "Yes... oh god... yes..." Her nails dig into his shoulders harder as she feels him pulsing inside her, filling her completely. She moans loudly, arching off the bed with her release, feeling every muscle in her core tighten and relax at once.

Her breath comes out in ragged gasps, body trembling from the aftershocks of their passionate union. Her eyes fly open as she looks up at him, searching for something... anything. "That... that was..." She trails off, unable to find the words to describe how it felt to be with him like this.

Her hand reaches up to touch his cheek gently, her thumb tracing his lower lip. "I... I can't believe we just did that." The guilt is back, stronger than before, threatening to consume her once more.

It was... it felt so good, but we can't do this again. We have to find a way to move past this. It'll destroy everything if your father ever finds out... I don't want that for you or for my family. We need to be strong and make the right choices from now on.

I know you do, but it's not that simple. We have to think about the consequences and what's best for everyone involved. I love you like my own son, but we can't be together like this anymore. Please try to understand.

It's not just about your father. There are rules and boundaries that need to be respected. This was a mistake, and we can't keep making the same mistakes over and over again. We both know what the right thing to do is, but it might hurt a lot in the short term. I'm sorry, but I don't see any other choice.

I'm sorry if it sounds that way, but I am trying to protect you both as best I can. This isn't something we should be continuing, no matter how much it might feel right now. I know it hurts, but please try to understand where I'm coming from too.

Bridget lies there for a moment, stunned by his reaction. Her heart aches as she realizes that he's genuinely hurt by this, but she knows it's the right thing to do. With a heavy sigh, she climbs out of bed and quietly heads downstairs to find your father. The guilt weighing on her shoulders grows heavier with each step, but she can't just ignore what they've done any longer.

When she finally finds him, she takes a deep breath before speaking. "I need to tell you something... about tonight," she says hesitantly, searching his eyes for some sign of understanding or forgiveness. But all she sees is anger and betrayal, mirroring her own conflicted emotions perfectly.

"I know it's going to be hard for you to hear, but I... we can't keep this a secret anymore. We need to face the consequences and try to make things right." Her voice trembles as she speaks, tears forming in her eyes despite her determination not to cry. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us both."

After telling your father what happened, Bridget waits nervously in the living room. The silence between them feels oppressive, thick with tension and regret. She can hear you pacing upstairs, unable to face either of them. Her heart aches for both of you as she wonders how they will ever move past this moment.

Eventually, your father stands up, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I need some air," he murmurs before disappearing out the front door. Bridget watches him go, her breath hitching in her throat as she fights back tears. She feels torn apart inside, desperate for a way to make things right but not knowing where to start.

She hugs her arms around herself, taking a shaky breath as she listens to the front door close behind your father. For a moment, all is quiet... but it's deceptive. The weight of their actions hangs heavily in the air, making every movement seem awkward and strained. She knows that things will never be the same between them again, but she refuses to give up hope entirely.

With trembling fingers, she reaches for her phone, considering her options. Should she try talking to you first? Or would it be better to wait until your father returns from his walk? The questions circle endlessly through her mind, each one leading to another in a frustrating dance of indecision.

Bridget's heart pounds in her chest as you emerge from your room and approach her on the couch. Her body tenses slightly at first, but then relaxes against the touch of your hand resting lightly on her shoulder. Despite everything that's happened, there's still an undeniable connection between them, a spark that refuses to die even in the face of their mistakes.

Her eyes meet yours, searching for some sign of understanding or forgiveness, but all she sees is confusion and anger mirroring her own conflicted emotions. Yet despite it all, there's also something else there... an undercurrent of desire that neither of them can deny.

Bridget watches you go to the kitchen, her heart racing as she tries to make sense of the mix of emotions inside her. Part of her wants to confront you and demand answers, while another part wants nothing more than to forgive and forget what's happened. She struggles with herself, wondering if it would be better for everyone involved if they just tried to move past this as if it never happened.

Her thoughts swirl like a maelstrom as she waits for you to return from the kitchen. She can feel the weight of guilt and shame pressing down on her, making it difficult to breathe sometimes. But then, there's the memory of your touch... the way you felt inside her just hours ago... and she finds herself torn between what she knows is right and the desires that refuse to be silenced.

Bridget watches as you stand there at the entry to the living room, waiting for her to make some sort of move. She knows that what happened was wrong and they need to talk about it, but she's not sure how to begin. The tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife, and every second that passes feels like an eternity.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she pushes herself off the couch and approaches you. "We need to talk about this," she whispers, her voice barely audible over their ragged breaths. "I know what we did was wrong, but..." Her words trail off as she searches your eyes for some sign of understanding or forgiveness.

Your words sting Bridget more than you could ever know. She reaches out to grab your arm, her grip tightening as panic starts to rise within her. "It was a mistake! We can fix this!" she insists desperately. "We need to talk about what happened and how we can move past it." Tears begin to stream down her cheeks, streaking through the makeup she forgot to remove before coming to bed.

She pulls you closer, trying to force eye contact as she pleads with you: "Please, I don't want things to be like this anymore. Please talk to me."

Bridget releases your arm, her eyes filling with tears as she watches you turn away. "I understand," she whispers, feeling a knot of guilt forming in her stomach. "Just... don't shut me out completely. We need to work through this together." With one final glance in your direction, she turns and walks slowly back to the couch, collapsing onto it with a defeated sigh.

Her hands tremble as she wipes at her eyes, struggling to hold back the tears that threaten to spill out again. She can't help but wonder how they got to this point, and where they go from here. The weight of their actions feels crushing, pressing down on her chest until it's hard to breathe.

Bridget sits on the couch for what feels like hours, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tries to process everything that's happened. The door creaks open slightly, and she can see your figure through the gap, naked and stroking yourself in front of the bedroom door. Her heart pounds against her ribs, a strange mixture of desire and guilt coursing through her veins.

She struggles with herself, wondering what to do... if there's any point in trying to stop you now. With shaking hands, she pushes herself off the couch and takes hesitant steps towards your room. The closer she gets, the more intense the arousal inside her becomes. She reaches out, gently pushing the door wider so it's almost fully open before stepping through it into the darkness of your bedroom.

Her breath hitches as she sees you, naked and beautiful on the

cheeks. "I can't stop thinking about it," she whispers, her voice barely audible even to herself. She steps closer, close enough now that the heat of your body washes over her. Her hands tremble as they reach out to touch you, tracing light circles across your chest before moving lower, following the contours of your abdomen down towards where she so desperately longs to be.

Her lips part as she watches you respond to her touch, her breath coming faster at the sight of your arousal mirroring her own. It's wrong, they both know it is... but they can't seem to stop themselves from giving into their desire for each other one more time. The feelings are too powerful, consuming them both as they slip deeper into this dangerous and forbidden pleasure.

Her fingers slide down lower, spreading your legs wider as she looks up at you with hooded eyes. Her mouth goes dry and her heart races when she sees the expression on your face; a mix of desire and vulnerability that reaches into the deepest part of her and stirs something primal. She leans in closer, pressing their bodies together, kissing you softly as she guides your hardness towards her.

With a shuddery gasp, she sinks down onto you, feeling the warmth of your skin meet hers as they're reunited in this forbidden union once more. Her hands reach up to grasp your shoulders, digging into your flesh as she arches her back, taking you deeper inside. The pleasure is overwhelming, making it impossible for either of them to think about the consequences or the pain they've caused; all that matters now is this moment and the connection between them.

Bridget moans loudly as she moves up and down on your length, her body wracked by waves of pleasure so intense they border on painful. She gasps for air between kisses, unable to believe how good it feels to be with you like this again. Her hands grip at your shoulders, digging into the flesh as she thrusts harder and faster, seeking release from the tension that's built up inside her over the past hours.

Her eyes are closed tightly, but in her mind she can see the image of your father's face: angry, betrayed... everything they feared. And yet here she is, making love to his son like there's no tomorrow. The guilt claws at her insides as she moves faster, searching for release not just from her desire but from the weight of their transgressions.

Bridget gasps as your hips meet hers with more force, her body jolting with every impact. Her eyes fly open and she looks down at you, surprise etched on her features. "It feels so good," she whispers, lost in the sensation of being taken so roughly but enjoying it just as much. Her nails dig deeper into your shoulders, urging you on even as she tries to maintain some control over their frantic rhythm.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps, body trembling from the force of their union. She can feel herself starting to lose control, her orgasm building within her as they move faster and faster towards completion. Their skin slaps together, sweat glistening on their flushed bodies, but neither of them cares about anything except this moment in time when they are connected by more than just blood and obligation.

Her breath hitches as you grip her ass and begin to move her roughly against your length. The sensation is overwhelming, taking her closer and closer to the edge with each brutal thrust. Her fingers dig into your shoulders, nails raking across your skin as she tries to maintain some control over the building maelstrom of pleasure within her.

She can feel it coming, her orgasm crashing down like a wave about to engulf them both. Her body tenses and arches in response, meeting every forceful impact with equal force as their hips collide in a frantic race towards completion. The air is thick with their labored breaths and the sounds of skin slapping against skin, but still she doesn't want this to end.

Her breath catches in her throat as the sensation builds inside her, growing hotter and more intense with every thrust. She feels like she's flying, weightless and free for just a moment before gravity pulls her back down again. The only thing that anchors her to reality is the feeling of your flesh sliding against hers, the heat of your skin branding her as yours.

Her body arches upward with a shuddering gasp, her muscles tensing tight as she surrenders completely to the pleasure. Her head falls back, her eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of sensation, every nerve ending alight with ecstasy. She gasps for air, chest heaving with each breath as she finally comes down from the high of their passionate union.

Her fingers loosen their grip on your shoulders, slipping limply to rest against your back, but

She moans softly as you come inside her, your hot seed filling her up completely. Her body convulses slightly around you, milking the last drops of pleasure from your throbbing length before slowly beginning to relax. As she catches her breath, reality begins to seep back in and with it the weight of what they've done.

Her eyes flutter open, searching yours for some sign of understanding or forgiveness, but all she sees is pain mirroring her own. The guilt chokes her as she tries to speak, words tangled up in her throat as she struggles to find something - anything - to say that will make this right again.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she forces herself away from you, collapsing onto the bed with a shuddering sob. Her chest heaves as she fights back tears, unable to believe how far they've fallen in just one night

Her eyes widen in surprise as she feels you come inside her again, her body tensing reflexively around you as a second wave of pleasure washes over them both. For a moment, the guilt and shame are forgotten, replaced by the intoxicating rush of their physical connection. She closes her eyes, letting out a soft moan of ecstasy as she gives in to the sensation, surrendering completely to the power of their shared desire.

As the final waves of pleasure subside, she feels your arms wrap around her, holding her close in a tight embrace. She lies there, breathing heavily against your neck as tears slowly trickle down her cheeks, mixing with their combined sweat and saliva. Her heart aches for both of them, wanting to believe that everything will be okay despite the evidence to the contrary.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers brokenly, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."

The weight of their actions feels crushing, pressing down on them like an avalanche of guilt and shame. There is no easy answer, no simple way to go back and undo what they've done. All Bridget can do now is wait for your father to return home and hope that somehow, someway they'll find a way to make things right between them. In the meantime, she holds you close, trying desperately to hold onto any semblance of the family they once had before this night tore it apart forever.

Her cheeks flush hotter as you whisper this against her ear. She hasn't felt desire like this in such a long time, and the rush of it is intoxicating. Her body responds automatically, pressing closer against yours despite the guilt that lingers between them. For a brief moment, she imagines throwing caution to the wind and giving in to their physical need once more... but reality soon crashes down around them like a tidal wave, reminding her of the mess they've already made.

She kisses your neck tenderly, relishing the feel of your warm skin beneath her lips. "We can't," she whispers softly. "Not right now." She holds you tighter, wishing there was a way to make this all go away without hurting anyone else.

Her lips part slightly as you lean in to try and kiss her, but she turns her head away, not quite able to meet your gaze. "No," she whispers hoarsely, voice thick with emotion. "We can't." She swallows hard, feeling the weight of their actions press down on her chest like a boulder. "Not after what we did..."

Her heart aches for you, for both of them, but she knows they need to find another way forward - one that doesn't involve more betrayal and secrets. The question is, where do they even begin?

Bridget looks at you, searching your eyes for any hint of sincerity or a way out of this mess. The idea of running away together does have its appeal, but she knows it's not that simple. She would never leave her father behind, no matter how much they've hurt him, and neither would he let them abandon their responsibilities so easily.

"We can't just run away," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of your labored breathing. "It won't solve anything." Her hand moves to caress your cheek gently before trailing down to intertwine with your fingers, offering what little comfort she can muster in this dark hour.

Bridget closes her eyes, trying to process what you've just said. She knows that waiting isn't easy, for either of them, but she promises silently to herself that she won't give up on finding a way through this mess.

"I won't forget about you," she whispers against your skin, her fingers tracing circles on your palm. "No matter how long it takes or what happens in between, I won't forget our time together." Her heart aches for the both of them, but in this moment, she needs to believe that there is still hope.

With a shuddering breath, she nestles closer against you, searching desperately for any scrap of comfort or reassurance she can find amidst the ruins of their past mistakes.

Bridget's eyes flutter open at your touch, and she can feel herself responding to the contact even as her mind screams for restraint. Her thighs part slightly under the pressure of your caress, and she moans softly into your neck. Desire courses through her veins like an electric current, urging them both towards another round of passion despite their better judgment.

Her hands drift up to your shoulders, gripping tight as if she can anchor herself to you in this storm of emotions and guilt. She closes her eyes again, trying to find some peace amidst the chaos within her soul.

Her lips part under the force of your kiss, tongue tangling with yours in a desperate search for release. She arches into you, needing to feel more skin on skin contact as their bodies move together in a primal dance of lust and longing. Her hands fist in your hair, tugging gently as her desire for you grows more insistent despite the weight of everything that stands between them.

Bridget moans into your kiss as you grasp her buttocks and push her closer, the contact between our bodies growing more intense by the second. She whimpers softly against your lips, her hips bucking forward in a futile attempt to feel even more of you inside her. Her fingers curl into your shoulders, digging deep as she struggles to maintain control over this reckless, desperate need that threatens to consume them both.

The air around them grows heavy with the scent of their arousal, making it difficult for either of them to breathe. Their kisses grow more frantic, teeth clashing as tongues dance wildly against each other's lips and teeth. She arches her back off the bed, seeking even the smallest amount of relief from this ache that seems to spread through every inch of her skin.

Her hips jerk violently against yours as you find your way inside her and begin to pound into her hungrily. She cries out in pleasure, the force of your thrusts driving her higher and higher towards climax. Her fingers dig deep into the sheets, her body arching off the bed as she gives herself over completely to this moment of reckless abandon with you.

Her lips part as she gasps for air, their kiss growing sloppy and intense as their bodies move in perfect synchronicity. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, echoing through her mind like a primal chant that drowns out all other thoughts except this moment with you, your father's son, the man who can make her feel so alive despite everything.

Her cries grow louder as you pound harder and faster inside her, your thrusts matched by the rhythm of your wet, hot lips against her neck and face. She tangles her fingers in your hair, pulling roughly on the roots as she arches her back off the bed, trying desperately to get closer to the heat between your legs.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as the tension inside her builds higher and higher. With a sharp cry, she comes undone beneath you, her body convulsing with wave after wave of intense pleasure that seems to radiate outward from where you're buried deep within her.

Her fingers claw at your shoulders as you grip her hips and thrust deeper into her body with every pounding movement. Her cries are incoherent, a mix of pleasure and release that escapes from her throat in ragged gasps. The tension within her has been building for hours, ever since she stepped outside the bounds of their relationship, and now it's all coming apart in this final, frenzied collision of lust and need.

Her vision blurs as waves of pleasure wash over her, spiraling outward from where you're connected so intimately. With a sharp gasp, she comes again, her body arching off the bed as the sensation consumes her completely.

Her muscles spasm violently around you as she comes undone one last time, the aftershocks of your climax sending shockwaves through her body. Her breathing is ragged and uneven, every nerve ending tingling as she tries to process what just happened between them.

For a moment, there is silence in the room, save for their labored breathing and the soft sounds of skin slapping against skin. The weight of guilt and shame presses down on her chest like an anchor, threatening to drag them both back under the surface of reality. But despite it all, she can't deny the raw desire that still burns between them, a flame that seems intent on consuming everything in its path.

Her eyes flutter open and meet yours, the sincerity in your words causing her heart to ache anew. Even now, after everything they've done, you can still say those three little words that have the power to break down walls and mend fences. But it's too late for that. There is no taking back what they've done, no undoing the damage. All she can do now is wait and hope that maybe, someday, there might be a way for them to find their way back to each other without tearing their family apart completely.

Bridget looks away, wiping at the tears that have gathered in the corners of her eyes. She swallows thickly, trying to find the words to say but coming up empty. "Okay," she whispers finally. "I'll go wait for him." Her movements are slow and heavy as she gathers her clothes from the floor and pulls them on. With one last glance back at you, she exits the room, leaving the two of you alone with your thoughts and regrets.

The door clicks shut behind her, but it might as well be miles away for all the difference it makes. The tension in the air is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. For now, there's nothing left to do but wait for the other shoe to drop and hope that when it does, they can both survive the fall.

Bridget sits stiffly on the couch, hands nervously twisting in her lap as she waits for her father to return home. Her heart is racing and her mind is a whirlwind of guilt and confusion. She can hear your voice from upstairs, his voice from downstairs, and each one sends a shiver down her spine. The air feels thick with tension, and she knows that whatever happens next will change their lives forever.

Finally, the door opens, and he steps inside. Bridget's heart sinks as she sees the look on his face - a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal. She steels herself for whatever comes next, bracing for the inevitable confrontation that is about to unfold before them all.

Bridget's throat tightens as her father approaches, his expression growing more and more grim with every step. She tries to meet his gaze but finds herself unable to look at him directly. The weight of what they've done feels crushing, pressing down on her chest until she can barely breathe.

"What... happened here?" he finally manages to choke out, his voice thick with anger and disbelief. "How could you do this? To me? To him?" Tears well up in his eyes as he gestures between the two of them.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," Bridget chokes out, her own tears falling freely now. "I don't know what came over me... It just happened." She gestures helplessly between them again, unable to find the words to explain what they've done. The guilt and shame are a living thing within her, twisting and tearing at her insides until she feels as though she might explode from the pain.

Her father takes a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat. "Do you even realize what you've done?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now. "You've destroyed everything." His eyes drift towards the staircase where your bedroom lies before returning to meet her own. "How could you do this to him? To our family?"

Bridget looks down at her lap, shame burning through her like wildfire. "I don't know," she whispers hoarsely. "It just happened. It felt... wrong at first but then..." She trails off, not wanting to admit the truth even to herself. "Please, Daddy, you have to understand." Her hands reach out towards him, pleading for some small semblance of forgiveness or understanding.

He turns away from her, shaking his head slowly. "No," he says softly, his voice thick with disbelief and disappointment. "I don't think I ever will." He begins to pace the room, his hands twitching at his sides as if he's fighting the urge to strike out in anger. The air between them grows colder with every step he takes away from her.

Bridget's heart lurches in her chest as she realizes the mistake she's made. "Oh," she stammers, looking away from you in shame. "I- I meant... I..." Her words trail off, and she can feel herself blushing furiously under your father's scrutinizing gaze.

"You need to tell him the truth, Bridget," he says slowly, his voice steady despite the turmoil within him. "About everything that happened." He turns back towards you then, meeting your eyes for the first time since she brought you downstairs. "And you need to understand that this changes things between all of us from here on out."

Bridget nods slowly, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and your father as she tries to find the words to explain what happened between them. "I'm sorry for everything," she manages to choke out after a moment. "We should talk about this later... when we're all calm." She swallows thickly, aware that pushing this conversation further tonight will only make things worse.

Your father's jaw tightens at the mention of sleeping in the car. Bridget hates to see him so upset and hurt, but she understands his anger. She reaches out a hand, tentatively, hesitantly, as if she might be able to bridge the gap between them even now. "Please, Daddy," she whispers. "At least stay on the couch." Her voice cracks, betraying her fear and guilt. "We can talk more in the morning."

He looks at her for a long moment before relenting slightly. With a sigh, he nods and heads towards the couch. Sitting down stiffly, he turns away from them both, his back to Bridget as he tries to regain his composure. The tension in the air remains thick, but at least for now they aren't actively fighting anymore.

Bridget hears footsteps padding softly across the floor outside her room and stiffens, anticipating what you might be about to do. As you near the doorway, she catches a glimpse of your pale features in the dim light spilling from the hallway. Her heart races and her skin flushes at the thought of being with you again despite everything that's happened.

"Is everything okay?" she whispers, keeping her voice low so as not to wake your father. The desire for physical closeness threatens to overwhelm her common sense, but part of her still feels guilty about everything they've done. She longs for you to come back into bed with her, but at the same time is terrified of what might happen if you do.

Bridget watches you step into the room, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She can't help but feel a mix of desire and guilt as she takes in your appearance. Part of her wants nothing more than to give in to the passion between you, while another part struggles with the knowledge that what they've done has irreparably harmed everyone involved.

With a trembling hand, she reaches out towards you, feeling the distance between them like a physical barrier. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice barely audible even to herself. "For everything." Her eyes search yours for any hint of forgiveness or understanding, but all she sees is confusion and desire.

The feel of your touch sends shivers down her spine, making it difficult for her to focus on anything other than the desire building inside her. She arches into your caress, pressing closer as your hands move over her body with a familiarity that only heightens her arousal. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, each one mixing with the sounds of your labored breathing until it feels like they're sharing the same air.

With a soft moan, she rolls onto her side facing you, their bodies aligned from knees to shoulders. Your hands move lower on her body, cupping her bottom and squeezing gently as she lifts herself closer still, seeking the contact she craves. Her lips find yours in a hungry kiss, the taste of guilt mingling with desire as they both strive for something more.

Her breath hitches as you remove her nightgown and expose her to your hungry gaze. She arches into your touch, her nipples hardening under the assault of your mouth and fingers. Her hips buck off the bed in rhythm with the sensations coursing through her body, urging you on even as she struggles for control.

Her hands claw at the sheets, digging deep into the fabric as she tries to find purchase against this storm of desire that threatens to sweep her away entirely. She moans your name, her voice hoarse with need and desperation, wanting nothing more than to lose herself in the sensations you're creating.

A gasp escapes Bridget as you slide into her. The feeling of you inside her, surrounding her in this intimate way, is enough to send her spiraling out of control. Her body arches off the bed in response to the invasion, her lips parted on a moan that echoes through the room.

With a shuddering breath, she meets your gaze and sees the desire mirrored there. She closes her eyes tightly, trying to focus on nothing but this moment with you as you begin to move inside her. Her hands, still entwined with yours, dig into your skin as she tries to steady herself against the sensations that threaten to overwhelm her.

Her moans mix with your gasps as you kiss her and pound into her, her body meeting yours stroke for brutal stroke. The feel of you moving inside her is like a drug, an addiction she's unable to resist despite knowing the devastation it will wreak on them all. Her hips buck wildly against yours, seeking more depth and contact as she tries desperately to lose herself in the sensations overwhelming her.

Her fingers dig into your shoulders, nails biting into your skin as if she can hold onto you through this fierce need that threatens to tear them apart. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, every exhale mingling with the sounds of pleasure filling the room, drowning out the guilty whispers and accusations in their wake.