Walter remembers Jack as a Strawberry

As they walked further into the camp, the realization hit Walter like a freight train.

Holy shit… I know this guy.

Jack. Alison’s dad. The man whose naked, muscular body was currently walking just a few feet ahead of him, cock swinging freely with every step. Walter had known him for years—long before Tim and Alison ever met. Back in their twenties, they’d both worked at the same Chuck E. Cheese in town. Jack had been one of the energetic performers, always smiling for the kids. On weekends, he’d picked up extra cash dressing up as that ridiculous strawberry mascot for the local fruit and veg market, waving at cars in the parking lot while sweating his ass off inside the costume.

Walter, meanwhile, had been the stoner kitchen guy who spent most of his breaks out by the dumpsters, passing a joint with the other slackers. They’d shared plenty of beers after closing shifts, bitching about shitty managers and terrible tips. Jack had even crashed on Walter’s couch a couple of times.

And now Walter was walking around as Jack’s naked 18-year-old daughter, with Alison’s tight, dripping pussy getting wetter every time he looked at the man.

The absurdity of it made his head spin. This body’s hormones were already making everything feel too intense, too immediate. His nipples were stiff, his skin hypersensitive to the breeze, and that persistent slickness between his thighs kept threatening to run down his legs.

Walter cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. “Hey… um, Dad?” The word felt bizarre coming out in Alison’s soft tone. “Do you think they have any beer around here? I could really use one right about now.”

Jack slowed down and turned, giving him an easy grin. That same familiar grin from twenty-five years ago. “Beer? Since when do you drink beer, sweetheart? You always said it tasted like piss and made you bloated.”

Fuck. Walter’s mind raced. Right. Does Alison even drink beer?

Hannah glanced back over her shoulder, her full breasts swaying gently with the movement. “She’s probably just nervous, honey. It’s been a while since we’ve all been here together.” She gave Walter a knowing, motherly smile that somehow made his new clit throb even harder. “But sure, there’s usually a cooler by the main pavilion. We can grab one after we check in at the welcome hut. Everything okay, Alison?”

Walter **** a smile, painfully aware of how exposed he was—naked, flushed, and fighting the confusing cocktail of old memories and brand-new female arousal. His eyes flicked involuntarily down Jack’s body again, lingering on that thick, heavy cock and the way it moved. Another rush of wetness betrayed him.

“Yeah… just thirsty,” he mumbled, voice breathy. “Long drive.”

Jack laughed and clapped him lightly on the bare shoulder, the casual touch sending electricity straight down Walter’s spine and between his legs. “That’s my girl. Come on, let’s get you that beer. Maybe it’ll help you loosen up.”

As they continued walking, Walter’s mind kept reeling. Old drinking buddy. Former coworker. Strawberry mascot. Now his “daughter” in this body.

He desperately needed that beer… and some way to get control over the growing ache in Alison’s pussy before he did something stupid.