His knuckles were clenched tight, recklessly jerking until his breath was finally caught in his throat. I wished I could have a second-hand orgasm. He was fully absorbed with my blowjob, and I held my breath as I watched the moment. His eyes were pressed closed, and he breathed out his mouth. His ejaculation came in waves. As the white strands hit my lips, I licked them off as he aimed the rest at my cheek and neck. He said he loved me so much, but the only proof I could obtain was dripping down my chest. I touched my fingertips to the mess. Even after the warmth dissipated, I enjoyed the slick feeling against my skin.
I accepted his softening manhood back into my mouth and sucked him clean. When he slipped from my lips, I licked and lapped at his balls in gratitude. He was immensely grateful, but I only wanted to express my appreciation. Aside from being gifted the thick load of semen, I acknowledged that I also came from them. No matter how often I thought about it, it was amazing to me.
I let him go and he fell to his knees to kiss me. I knew I must wait before he would be ready for more, but he made being patient nearly impossible. I pushed against him, straddled his lap, and grazed my moist slit against his recovering member. He pulled back from our kiss, startled, then placed his hand on my chest to halt me completely. He slid me off him but then offered me a hand so we could stand. I hid my upset by helping my father take off his shirt so he could accompany me in the shower.
Bathing was secondary. Foremost, my father lulled me with his words, “You’re growing so quickly, Veztia, becoming a woman right before my eyes.”
He towered behind me, “This alone is an honor.”
At least he was giving my petition sincere thought. I felt honored. He washed me carefully, but I pouted. I watched as the soap suds and water rinsed away the only tangible trace of our love. I longed for something less ephemeral.
He turned me to face him, then dropped to his knees. I looked down at him as he lifted, then washed, my feet. He worked his way up my legs and was entertained. He pressed my lower lips together while lamenting that I was once so cute and far less smooth down there, “You still look delicious. Such a tender and puffy pussy…”
Obscene language was embarrassing, but my full body flush only heightened my arousal. I felt every kiss, then his tongue, and shuddered. I ran my fingers through his wet hair as he flicked and licked at my clit. His beard and mustache tickled against my silken skin. I stifled my giggles and they morphed into moans as he stirred my insides. He was enthralled, the alcohol freeing his tongue as it lubricated his mind, “I can’t go any deeper, but you’re sticky and still trying to suck my finger in.”
His voice tormented me, and he stopped his good work before I could orgasm again. This was my chance to implore him further. He loved to touch me. He constantly left me wanting, so my body would climax at the snap of his fingers.
I chose my words carefully, “So you can feel it then? How deeply I want you inside me. Fingers neither compare to your length, nor can they spread to your girth.”