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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.

Sarah stayed in that same position for a while, curled in ball right by his side, playing with his body hair and breathing in his scent. As she was thinking about making her retreat her hand strayed a bit too far down his belly and hit something scratchy. Though about to fall asleep, this curious sensation brought her out of it. She had pulled her hand back as soon as she felt it, but she once again brough her hand out to her dad’s stomach, fingers on her outstretched hand trailing down his flat stomach and just above his pelvis. With her pinkie finger she pressed down and felt that same patch of scratchy hair. Her sleepy mind finally registered what it was. It was his pubes.

He’d already showered so his short messy hair had been combed back and was still damp. He was wearing his slacks and belt, but no button up shirt on yet. He liked to wait until his hair was a bit drier before he put it on. As he pulled cups and the coffee tin from the cupboards above, she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles shifted on his back, the sparse long hairs that sprouted from his back and shoulders. He only got to the gyms on the weekends, but he walked around job sights a lot for his work, so he had a nice balance between muscle and leanness. Before last night she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now she sat there with her mouth open, staring like a dead fish.