Even in that thong bikini. But now… do I have to worry about you hitting on me? Or sneaking peaks of me in the shower? I’ve never thought of YOU a... a sex object.” “Sweetheart, do you remember that microphone we put in your room when you were ten so that we could check in on you when you had a sudden asthma attack?” My daughter looked up at me in the dimming light, and nodded. Then her eyes got bigger and she sat up. In the twilight I could see her breasts wobble sensuously. “What about the. Is that what you wanted to hear?” “Well, at least I know what to do with that. I had no idea how to get you past ‘umbrage’.” She wriggled against me. “Davey, jealous is okay. I’d be jealous too if the shoe was on the other foot, I’m sure; if you were in intimate poses like this, with sexy women touching you. But it’s a photo shoot; they’re not engaging in foreplay leading up to sex, and we won’t be either. All we’d be doing is moving from one pose to the next, and then the next, with a. I used to do this on and off about twice a week sometimes during the day and other times at night. It was amazing the things one could see in graveyards. People continuously talking to the dead or sometimes they might pinch flowers from other tombs to put them on their own dearly departed ones’. Other times people might appear in the cemetery completely drunk, and while staggering over to the grave they are seeking, they fall into an open one that has just been dug. But what I was going to. But not quite yet. I pulled out the stirrups and helped you pull forward, your legs in stirrups, and your ass hanging over the edge of the table. I gathered a tray of tools, washed my hands and put on gloves, and pushed the stirrups wide apart and adjusted the light where I could see well. As I parted your labia majora, I looked at your clitoris, pulling back on the hood to see it’s size and appearance. I grabbed the hood and jerked it back and forth on your clit like a man jerk his cock with.