I quickly bent at the waist over the tub. I spread my legs a bit wider than necessary and began to rub my hair dry. And I wondered if he would open th... door. I didn't have to wonder long. I felt the draft as the door swung open and I took my sweet time before looking over my shoulder at my father standing in the doorway. Again, I let him look as long as he liked. And he liked a long time. When he finally met my eyes, he held my gaze for a few seconds. "You gonna be long?" he asked. "Why?" I. . masturbating! Masturbating like a teenage girl after she's read a spicy novel ... I'm a grown woman, married, with a husband ... and yet I'm lying here and playing with my own breasts ... it's perverted, but, oh, God, it feels so good ... so good ...Her tight hand left her nakedly quivering breast and moved slowly down over her stomach to the elastic waistband of her panties. In spite of her self-recrimination, her shame at what she was doing, she wasn't able to stop herself. There was only. Each night, after she bathed, she would sit in her light pink terry cloth bathrobe in front of the mirror in her bedroom and drink a glass of brandy while she brushed her hair. She always left her bedroom door just slightly ajar, and I would often stand in the dark hallway, just outside her door, and watch her as she combed her hair. I would always watch until just after she reached inside her robe to dust her bosom with powder. I knew then that she was ready to go to bed. I guess you could say. As his sperm left his cock, his mouth opened to say "oww", only to receive a long string of thick white semen between his lips and over his tongue. I continued to milk him. He managed to close his mouth but it was too late. A large deposit was already in there and the remainder coated his lips, chin and cheeks. With the orgasm subsiding, I took my hand from his cock and pressed his chin upward. "Swallow it, slut," I commanded. I think by now, the cold, hard floor on his back was more.