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His wings were aching and threatening to snap, but he forced himself to his feet and returned to the sky. He took after Ingram, once again attacking him from behind. The two of them crashed atop the edge of the arena, overlooking the crowds. It was little more than a cement lip encircling the arena, offering some protection from the sun and the weather. The two got to their feet, both bruised and exhausted, with the spectators cheering as they spotted the combatants overhead.

Sarah’s hand rested on her dad’s stomach, firm with muscle but covered with a bit of body fat he couldn’t help with given his busy days. She slid her hand up and down, enjoying the feeling of his hair rubbing against her skin. Wriggling her face even closer she brought her head right up to his armpit, her nose a few inches away from the hair and sniffed. It was a bit tarter than his usual body odour from the sweat, but it was also a lot stronger which was what she really enjoyed. She dared to move her face even closer, until she was almost touching it and breathed deeply. Sarah was well on her way to forgetting that nasty dream as she inhaled her father’s scent, but on her next breath his hairs trembled and tickled her nose, causing her to pull back a bit. She didn’t want to risk sneezing and waking up her dad. He needed the sleep.

The next Saturday night looked to follow the same as the others, but even as Sarah awoke just after midnight there was a greater urgency. Perhaps it was the fact that without school that day she had been lazing around for most of it, or perhaps the fact that her nightly drinks weren’t enough to satiate her anymore. As usual Sarah strode in through the open door of her father’s room, not bothering to tiptoe anymore knowing it wasn’t necessary. With a gentle flick the sheets of her father’s bed came sliding off and fell to the floor. Sarah crawled like a cat onto the bed, she had stopped wearing clothes a few nights before and her modest bosom grazed the top of his legs as she made her way up to her usual spot.