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“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.

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.

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.