Dad can we talk?”“Uh—okay, come in,” I said. “I skittered back inside on my wheel board and led her into the small front room of my small an... unpretentious one bedroom abode. My computer, one loaned to me by the church, was sitting on the little all-purpose table across from the couch. “Have a seat,” I said, indicating the couch that I rarely sat on. She did.“Dad, how are you?” she said. She was clearly nervous, but hell, so was I.“Okay. I’m okay,” I said. “It’s good to see you. But again,. Was she dreaming? She didn’t care. She hadn’t had sex since she’d broken up with Matt, and this was intensely different from her vibrators and dildos. It was… better. Much better. Fuck, this felt good.She remembered the strange green stuff that had oozed from the prick in her finger, and a small part of her wondered if that had something to do with her mounting arousal and diminishing terror. The part of her that cared faded away as soon as the single vine on her pussy left her alone, quickly. More

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