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She checked her phone and saw the date. Oh crap. She’d completely lost track of the day of the week with how zoned out she was yesterday. With the stress of getting to school gone, she now was feeling a different concern, mainly that fat load she had drained from her father’s balls last night and how he was standing in front of her. She quickly covered her mouth realising she had yet to wipe the dried drool and cum that was covering her lips and chin. Doing her best to mask the motion as a yawn, she sleepily replied.

I might have been able to fight my way to a second one, if I'd really worked at it, but I didn't see much point. I just relaxed, enjoying the sensation of that big, thick knot tugging against my entrance with every rapid thrust, the one part of getting doggie-fucked that Daddy's cock couldn't replicate and do better.

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.