fear and hunger harvestman

“Oooooh…” Mrs. B whispered, not pulling away, but neither joining in. “Really, I can’t let you do that. It’s too much.”“Didn’t you like it?” I asked.

As carefully as she could and listening to her dads breathing above, she moved her hand through the patch of pubic hair, the thick hair rustling under her touch. She moved her hand back and forth enjoying the sound and feeling of it under her hand. Once she had given it a thorough tousling, she brought her hand back to her face and inhaled. It was like a lightning bolt shot through her from her head to her feet. The smell was much stronger than she was expecting, the same smoky familiarity to it, but like his underarm hair it had its own particular scent to it, and it was better than all the rest. Sarah trembled as she smelled it, her legs locking together around her dad’s, and though she panicked thinking it might wake him, she couldn’t help it.

It was a warm night tonight as the night before. They barely needed the sheets with no air conditioning running. She grabbed the loose end of the sheet resting above her father’s hand and slowly pulled it back. It was almost like a strip tease. His pecks, chest and stomach all came into view, very nice to see but she’d already had her fill of them this morning. Finally, the sheet pulled back to reveal his waist, his short patch of curly pubic hair coming into view. She slowed herself down, carefully pulling the sheet over his bulge and not daring to look until she dropped the sheet down on his thighs.