“What?” To her credit, she did not scream on asking that.“You’re in my bed. You agreed to that. It’s eight-fifteen. I only have Wheaties for...breakfast, but I could make a run to get some take-out. Coffee is perking.”“Get out,” she said.“Okay. You might want this.” He dropped the tee on the bed and went out of the room closing the door.She ran to the bathroom wearing the tee. The sight was arousing, although all the critical areas were -- barely -- covered.She didn’t say anything when she went. It couldn't be happening to her. Yet she had no choice but to admit it was happening to her. Even as she admonished herself for allowing it to happen, she felt nauseated as her body began to respond to the soft, gently coaxing of her daughter's tongue. She couldn't stop herself and before she knew it, she felt her legs spread apart even wider, baring even more of her vulnerability to her daughter. She hated herself for feeling the way she did, but she was unable or unwilling to stop enjoying. More

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