I was wet enough for anything and I wanted to please him more than anything. I grabbed his hands and put them on my ass. He didn’t need a second inv...tation and started massaging my cheeks, which was both wonderful and painful given the state of my flesh. I rode him slow, trying to resist my own desire to speed up. I held myself upright on him, played with my breasts, watched him watching what I was doing. I didn’t hide my reactions when I touched a sore spot or pinched my tender nipples. Tom. I loved my dad, maybe more than most daughters did, because (I know this will sound strange) I had reoccurring thoughts about what it would be like to make love to him. I think most daughters have those kind of thoughts growing up, at least once or twice. But for me it was a reoccurring image in my mind, I would imagine how it would be and how he would look, coming to me and how he would gently take me in his arms, and you know, all the things that happen in a situation like that.It's not that. More

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