hotikaa

She heard her dad rummage around the kitchen, cutlery clanked together, and the microwave hummed for a minute or so before he collapsed onto the couch with the bowl of leftover lasagne steaming in his hands. Like muscle memory, he quickly switched on the TV and started wolfing down the food like a starving man. Only after demolishing half the bowl of pasta, barely paying attention to the random game show playing softly in the background did he turn to his daughter and notice the look on her face.

“You're sure you really want me to do this?” she asked him, nervously biting her lip. He responded by kissing her, deep and passionate, until they were both panting trying to catch their breath. I sat up and helped her do the same, and she didn't resist as I took her hand and led her down to the floor near the foot of the bed, settling her down to her hands and knees, Daddy scooching up to sit on the edge so he'd have a better view.

She finished sucking on the other nut, letting the ball drop back into place gently guiding it with her tongue. Sarah leaned back down and sucked the excess drool about to drip off the bottom of his sack. She stared down at his balls, glistening with her saliva in the moonlight like a freshly polished car. Well, she thought, she had given them a good wash. She had only meant to give them a quick taste, but she’d done everything she secretly wanted to do when she was tossing and turning in her bed last night. Well… almost everything.