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“I'll show you!” I laughed, leaning in for a kiss on her lips. “Then you'll see!” I rolled up out of the bed and hurried out the door, down the hall to my old room. Other than to change clothes and use my computer, I'd barely even set foot inside ever since Daddy had made me his. I opened the door and stuck in my head.

She heard her dad rummage around the kitchen, cutlery clanked together, and the microwave hummed for a minute or so before he collapsed onto the couch with the bowl of leftover lasagne steaming in his hands. Like muscle memory, he quickly switched on the TV and started wolfing down the food like a starving man. Only after demolishing half the bowl of pasta, barely paying attention to the random game show playing softly in the background did he turn to his daughter and notice the look on her face.

“Hold this,” she said. “I’ll hold your dick.” I have since seen many naked women in person, but Mrs. B. was one of the most memorable. Pure white, lightly freckled skin, perky B-cup tits, trimmed, fiery red pussy hair matching her long, red tresses. “Take a drink,” she invited, smiling warmly at me as she stroked my soapy shaft and played with my balls. The drink was vodka and OJ, strong but not incapacitating. I chugged about half and offered it to Mrs. B. She chugged the rest, set down the cup and returned to playing with my cock and balls.“God, you look beautiful, Mrs. B. So hot.”