“I heard you were sick, daughter,” he said, standing before me as I sat on the edge of my bed. “That you didn’t rise for breakfast.”“I cou...dn’t sleep,” I said, looking away.He took my hands, his fingers corpse-cold. “You look flush.” He breathed in. “Your skin so pink.”I swallowed, the scent of my fresh pussy wreathing the air. “I...”“Longed for your father?” he said, his cock swelling the front of his hose, the tight clothing clinging to his legs and crotch. He brought my hands to his dick. I. Kisses came later when we stopped at each of our apartments to change. Kisses promised more, but we delayed promises. By the end of the concert under the tablecloths at the small table we sat at, hands had felt desire, hers sliding up my thigh to my crotch tightened by an excited penis and mine at hers feeling the heat and humidity. Her eyes and smile spoke of desire and mine probably did too. I knew she'd invite me to her room and I knew I had no reason to say no this time. But further delays. More

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