” he stuttered, not meeting my eyes.Jesus. Fucking. Christ.“Dad, do me a favor? Go tell mom we had a good talk and you and I will pretend like thi... never happened.”“Good talk, son!” he said, beating a retreat down the hallway.I spent the week restricted to the house, and forced to do every chore my mother could imagine, even weeding the flower beds despite the gardener’s tear-filled pleas that setting a teen loose among his price begonias was akin to genocide.Mom had not left the topic. I hear whispering and try to listen to what is being said but it is too quiet for me to hear. I lay wondering what is going to happen next, and I nearly moan out loud when I feel a hand yet again on my thigh. This time the touch isn't as gentle but just as pleasurable. Instead of working its ways down it moves up the inside of my thighs, and then round to my sides so it misses my pussy completely, I moan my frustration and bite my lip. I hear you laughing again as you know how frustrated I get. More

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