And she pulled her finger up to her face, and smelled her own arousal. And then she dipped her finger between her lips and tasted herself.“His lips....His tongue. Does he want to know what I taste like?” she wondered. “He hasn’t seen me in decades. Would he even want me now? Would he want to know what my pussy feels like when I think of those words he wrote? Does he even care how wet I’ve been getting when I read them?”She pulled her finger from between her lips. She was tired. She liked the way. My eyes dropped momentarily to where I knew her breasts were under the terrycloth robe. “And I really love sucking my little girl’s tits.”It was so bizarre having this conversation with my daughter. For nineteen years Callie had been my little girl, even though she had been a pain in the ass much of that time. Still I had loved her, and talking dirty to her was so far out in left field that I could hardly believe it was actually taking place.“I also want to fuck you, Callie.” I had known I. More

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