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What was wrong with her? Until last night, she thought she just liked the way her dad smelled. Now she was coming to terms with the fact she had just had a sexual awakening when she smelled and accidentally kissed the head of his dick. What was she going to do now?

She finished sucking on the other nut, letting the ball drop back into place gently guiding it with her tongue. Sarah leaned back down and sucked the excess drool about to drip off the bottom of his sack. She stared down at his balls, glistening with her saliva in the moonlight like a freshly polished car. Well, she thought, she had given them a good wash. She had only meant to give them a quick taste, but she’d done everything she secretly wanted to do when she was tossing and turning in her bed last night. Well… almost everything.

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.