I see sorrow, pain, life, beauty, so many things. I know I can't give everything you need. Perhaps nothing of lasting value, but it doesn't matter. Th... light around us is just a little warmer for now, and that's enough now.There is something else in your eyes. Need. Desire. Hunger. You tilt your head back as I lean toward you. We kiss deeply, and warmth transmutes to heat on the softness of your lips and tongue. It is a dream, because such turns of moods only happen in dreams, but I don't care.. This married preachers daughter, whom never watched porn was sneeking pics of my cock. I was hard as a rock.Then I heard Ray up so I covered up after she walked away. I got up and as he was in the shower, I walked into the kitchen wearing baggy sweat pants and a T-shirt. I leaned against her ass pressing my hard cock against her and she froze, I reached around her and she gasped and held her breath, I innocently reached around her and took the coffee pot and a cup and stepped back I poured a. ”“Do you masturbate into my panties?”I just nodded. “And with your bras too.”"Daddy!” she cried in kind of phony shock. “Do all fathers do this? …“Not all,” I said, trying to be honest and sound matter-of fact. “We don’t talk about it to each other. It’s very private with us. But I think a lot of us do.”“God,’ she said, “That’s so pervy!“The coach says you all want to … fuck us. She says it’s your natural inclination.” “Lots of fathers do want to fuck their daughters,” I admitted, “But it’s. Or warmer.”I plopped down in the chair. I was relieved. If it hadn’t been for studying, I’d have been in the chair wrapped in a blanket long ago. Amanda brought a handful of notes and crawled into my lap. I flipped the blanket over us and then wrapped my right arm around her putting my hand on—bare skin! I jerked away.“I’m sorry, Amanda!” I said. “I didn’t mean to ... I mean ... your sweatshirt rode up a little, I think.”“Yeah. That’s fine. Don’t panic. It’s just epidermis. Your hand is warmer.