“Father,” I said.“I heard you were sick, daughter,” he said, standing before me as I sat on the edge of my bed. “That you didn’t rise for ...reakfast.”“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, looking away.He took my hands, his fingers corpse-cold. “You look flush.” He breathed in. “Your skin so pink.”I swallowed, the scent of my fresh pussy wreathing the air. “I...”“Longed for your father?” he said, his cock swelling the front of his hose, the tight clothing clinging to his legs and crotch. He brought my. You know my body so well and slide a finger inside me, feeling how much my pussy needs your cock buried deep, how it clenches against your finger, pretending it’s your cock and attempting to milk you dry with my tightness.You tell me to hold my pussy lips open so you can watch my hard little clit dance while you try to add another finger into my tight sensitive puss.I moan and squirm around your long fingers begging for more, but you torture me staying perfectly still, except for scissoring. More

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