I hesitantly moved down the hallway past the bathroom, nearing her bedroom door; which was slightly cracked open. Bailey was almost screaming. “Oh f...ck yes daddy pound your little girl. I need your cock.”I was just outside her bedroom now. I could see my daughters feet hanging over the end of her bed. She was alone, thank fucking god! But what the fuck was she saying? My daughter was having a sexual fantasy about her own father?Bailey continued. “Oh yes daddy, don’t stop, keep fucking me like. Hesitatingly an elder lady in waiting at the doorstep asked him politely if she could ask him maybe a queer question.She is of the generation, some year in the 70ies which doesn't dare to speak unasked for at an unknown gentleman.Writing this, is the third time I cry in ten minutes. Firstly the music. Secondly as result at a flash of million memories.Thirdly from this romantic short erotic encounter, like from a famous novel which won world wide amazing attention."Sir, You do look like Frits. Our beat wasn’t one of the better suburbs, and we also did a lot of minor drug busts. Doug liked burglary after the fact, best.However, he made me write-up the scenes, the interviews and our findings, and submit the evidence to forensics. The information was then sent to one of the detectives in the Criminal Investigation Branch (CIB) to determine if more needed doing.Doug got pissed at me when he learnt that I added my own pages of observations and listed evidence that he hadn’t seen as. This insatiable desire was now controlling my reality. I crawled on top of Craig and began kissing his face. His eyes opened and locked onto mine. I smiled and began kissing him deeply on the mouth. He chuckled while asking, “What are you doing?”I placed my finger over his lips and said, “Shhhh.”I lifted my sundress off over my head. Placing my finger over his lips again I said, “Shhhh.” My knees quickly found their position as I swiftly maneuvered and lowered my swollen pussy onto his mouth..