“No,” he grinned. “You couldn’t hurt me.”“I could break your heart.”“Why would you want to do that?”“To show you who’s in charge...”“You’re a silly girl,” he chuckled. “Everybody knows that women are always in charge.”“So, you don’t hate me anymore?”“I never hated you. I thought you hated me!”“What made you think that?”“The way you kept calling me a tight ass.”“What’s your favorite nickname?”“I don’t have one.”“Teddy Bear?”“That’s a little obvious.”“You ever been in love?”“A couple of times, I. My hips and butt were considerably more pronounced. I was not fat by any means, and worked out regularly to ensure that. Multiple times a day I sought release through masturbation, and every time I pushed my fingers into myself, I found myself wanting to describe it to my Dad. So I did, and so did he. He described his self pleasuring with such lurid detail, that I couldn't sit still for the reading of it. He was incredibly comfortable with his sexuality and would often describe. More

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