“What’s this about dad,” she said rolling her eyes, “This isn’t going to be another lecture about cleaning my room and picking up my panties...is it?”I smiled and said, “No.” I had stopped lecturing her about picking up her panties, as I enjoyed picking them up myself, her thongs, her bikini panties, soiled ones, even ones rank and wet with her juices.I loved bringing myself to crashing climaxes smelling and tasting my little girl’s panties.Like I did a couple of weeks ago.It was a Saturday, I. His right hand came up again and was held out flat near myface, ready to slap me again. I forced myself to stay still.He enclosed me in his arms again and this time his lips came down onmine. It was the strangest feeling, I could feel the slight rasp ofafternoon shadow on his face, smell the faint scent of his aftershaveand the press of his thick lips against mine. He pushed his tongue intomy mouth and I could taste my lipstick mingled with his mouthwash. Histongue started to explore my mouth. More

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