images of hermaphrodite humans

A minute later of coyly staring at her dads naked back, he pushed the steaming mug in front of her face. He gave her a quick smile and then went about his morning prep, getting meals ready and putting the dishes away from the dishwasher. Not under his scrutiny anymore, Sarah picked up her mug and give it a sniff. Her nose wrinkled as she made a face, but she took a big sip anyway. It was going to be a long day.

Once she’d finally found a good spot, she remembered what she was trying to do. Slowly and steadily, she brought her hand up and over his chest, the light sheet rippling above her the only thing keeping them from the warm autumn night. Again, she brought it down past the end of the hair on his belly and only stopped once she felt that rough patch of hair just above his groin. With only the moon filtering through the sheet above she could barely make it out as she peered over her dad’s waist. Short and curly, much curlier than his armpit hair, pitch-black, though most of his hair was with only a bit of grey poking through.

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.