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“Wow, Emily!”
“Do you like me dressed like this, Daddy?”
“You look stunning.”
“You know, we girls practice moving around and inspecting every aspect of our outfit in the mirror before we let men see us, right?”
“Mom may have mentioned it once or twice.”
“Of course she did. I’m being silly… there is little, if anything, I can teach you.”
“There are many things Mom and I never did, Emily.”
“Such as?”
“Period sex.”
“I’d like to try. My friends say it eases cramps.”
I wore an inexpensive black cocktail dress that hugged me like a tight-fitting glove. If I were bloated, like when I got my period or drank too much water, the shape around my stomach would horrify anyone ogling, but my figure held perfectly, a gift from the gods because the only thing filling my belly right now was Dad’s semen.
“I can’t see a panty line, honey.”
“I’m not wearing any, Daddy.”
His eyes danced around my body like fireworks lighting up the night sky. Suddenly, my stepfather wasn’t my parent anymore. His combat duty time away from home broke that fatherly link, replacing it with something overwhelmingly romantic, loving, and far more meaningful.
I stepped into his arms for a hug, enjoying how my Dad’s hands danced down my spine before gripping my ass cheeks.
“See? I am wearing no panties. Not even a string of floss adorns this ass crack, Dad.”
“Your ass is so firm.”