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“That’s easy,” I replied. “You telegraph what feels good. I just do it again. You don’t exactly have a poker pussy. I love feeling you cum when I lick you.”

I retrieved my bag that had some clean running clothes in it and returned to the master shower. I turned on the water, steaming hot, stripped, opened the glass door and stepped in. I thought at the time it was a nice shower, but I know now it was a typical tract house cubical. I was thankful for the opportunity to jack off, as my cock had been rock hard since Mrs. B’s dress rode up, exposing her lovely thighs when she got in the car. I was just soaping up my dick to get some relief when I was startled by the opening of the shower door. Mrs. B. stepped into the shower, naked, holding a plastic cup. She handed me the cup.

This was an experience Sarah had yet to feel, and the novelty of it sent a shiver through her body. She was so used to getting her fulfillment by pleasuring her sleeping father that she hadn’t thought to touch herself during her nightly duties. Sarah inched herself further down his body, stopping as his hard cock pressed up against the outer edge of her labia. The heat of it in such a sensitive place almost made her moan, but she bit her lip, she was too close to her father to risk making such a noise. Slowly and gently, she pushed herself lower, his cock pushing hard against her lips until finally a drop of precum formed at his tip. With the added lubrication his cock slid past and stopped just at her quivering opening. It wasn’t in just yet, but his head pressed against her, and she could feel the heat against her own.