You okay?” Mom asks.
“Yeah,” I say, but it comes out all breathy.
Daddy presses the button on the remote that starts the movie. I pretend to watch the screen, but my vision is hazy as Daddy’s fingers curl up to cup my p***y.
Lifting his hand, he uses his grip on me to scoot me closer to him. I reach down and grip his thigh because his middle finger grazes over my c**t.
“Daddy,” I huff out.
“f**k,” he whisper-groans when his fingers move inside the leg of my shorts and caress the bare lips of my p***y.
I look over at Mom, but there’s no way she heard that over the car chase that’s been happening on screen since the opening credits rolled.
I shift my hips experimentally, wanting to get Daddy’s touch where I need it most. When the tip of his finger slips inside me, I freeze. Then I roc
