Realizing this, my Dad sent his hands sliding slowly up my sweaty, sensitive inner thighs, over my flat tummy, taking hold of my young tits…I moaned...and shut my eyes, because he was looking up at me, watching my face, and I didnt want to think about who was making me feel this way. Oh, but his thick strong tongue was expertly sliding over my clit, turning it back and forth, sliding around in circles, and I gasped and clutched at the pink sheets my motherd bought me only the previous weekend. I. It’ll be a while, but I’ll be back running in time to train for next year’s race.”“That’s good to hear. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”“Well, to thank you of course, and to ask you if I could buy you dinner to thank you properly.”“Will your husband be joining us?” I asked.There was a long, strained silence.“I’m sorry,” I said, “Did I say something wrong? You said that you needed to finish for your husband.”“Oh, that’s right, I’m sorry, you couldn’t know, but my husband is dead,. More

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