"I just- I missed you, daddy," she repeats.
"Yeah?" he says, throat suddenly dry.
She nods. "I missed you a lot," she admits readily, and then pulls away. She's flushed red all the way to her pretty little neck.
He smiles and returns his attention to the apple, slicing it into bite-sized pieces and setting them on a clean plate.
She eyes them with suspicious when he hands her the plate. Then, in a soft voice that he almost doesn't hear, she says, "Can you feed me, daddy?"
His c**k throbs. It takes a good effort to keep his grip on the plate loose enough that he doesn't shatter it.
"I'll sit by your leg and you can- you can work and feed me?" she offers.
It's really not appropriate. He shouldn't indulge her just because she is asking so nicely, her eyes wide and hopeful, lips wet and
