She had her legs apart so my legs didn’t touch the floor although my hands did, and my penis fell in the gap between her thighs, which I was gratefu... for, until I squirmed around a bit and she closed her legs firmly catching my penis in a grip between her cools legs and she said tersely “settle down Dad before I get cross.” I stopped moving immediately and she moved her legs apart again with a condescending “that’s better Dad” She is being very strict but I supposed she is just enforcing. My sex throbs. I shiver. I moan. You tear my shirt wide, the remaining buttons disappearing into the roiling blackness that shifts uneasily around us. Panting, I arch my back and thrust my breast at the shadows. Your laughter rakes along my spine and I smile. My wanton display has pleased you and you reward me by softly teasing the aching buds, rolling and pulling them softly between thumb and forefinger until I gasp in pleasure. You lean over my shoulder and kiss the corner of my smile. I was slightly pissed off that he'd forced my throat onto his cock like that, without warning or asking if it was OK, but at that point it wasn't worth mentioning, he'd shot his load of cum into my mouth, I'd swallowed it, and we'd both gotten what we'd ultimately wanted. But he sensed it, I'm sure, and stood up and quickly dressed, a quick kiss, a quick 'bye', and he let himself out of the room. He would not become a regular of mine (though he would continue to write me for awhile. He was polite enough not to say anything, and I sure as hell didn't want to talk about it. I just sat there in my skirt and polo shirt and sandals, letting the wind blow through my hair as I stared blankly ahead. Yes, even my clothing had changed, from a pair of Dockers, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes into a very female outfit. The white skirt was sexier than I would have liked; it ended about two and a half inches above my knee, exposing a _lot_ of my curvy legs. I wouldn't have minded the.
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