We lived quite well on my salary, but a shadow still enveloped us. I would look at Tracy, as she slowly grew into a near image of her mother, and a sh...rp pain would arc through my body. Strangely I had no interest in women or sex during these years, possibly a result of the psychological residue of our tragedy. Whenever my daughter looked at me with her green eyes and pretty smile, I was filled with enough love to need nothing else. I always saw her as my little girl, even after she strode. I gave her my address, and asked her to show up any time after seven.At seven exactly, I buzzed her in the front door.I stood nervously behind my door, waiting for the knock, waiting for theelevator to bring her to me. I was as beautiful as I could make myself.I`d had just over two full hours to prepare, and was able to concentrateso much more on my makeup. I felt like I`d learned, and gotten better,each time I applied it. I felt like I was learning the nuances of itall.I was in my Cher wig.. It went deep all the way in. It was very hot, tight and sticky with plenty of fluids. I let it stay there for a while, slowly pulled it out a bit, pushed it back, pulled and pushed it slowly. A rhythm had formed and her inside muscles where also contracting and relaxing with the flow, pulling and pushing of my dick.Our hips started moving in tandem supporting each other. It was too intense a feeling and I didn’t wanna rush. It was that moment when everything else had stopped and we were one. I. One of my favorite fantasies goes like this:I am the owner and headmaster of a highly exclusive school for young ladies aged twelve to eighteen. It is very strict but whenever a student has been so unruly as to earn physical chastisement, she is sent to me. The procedure is that immediately after supper, she must prepare for bed. Freshly bathed and brushed, in nightgown, robe and slippers and carrying an envelope containing a description of the be-havior she is to be punished for, she must come.