I’m breathless as I wait for Daddy to pull himself out.
I’ve felt him against me, but I haven’t seen him or touched him or tasted him. I want to do all three. I slide to my knees on the floor as he reaches into his underwear.
“We don’t have much more time,” Daddy says.
“It’s cleanup time, but soon they’ll be getting out all the pies and desserts.”
Because Daddy and I are automatically roped into prep and cooking, we get out of cleaning.
Mom could too, but she has to oversee all her siblings and nieces and nephews as they handle ‘the good dishes.’
Usually, Daddy and I escape to different places and then have to be wrangled to come back down for dessert and more hanging out with the family.
“I’m not sure how fast I’ll be able to get you off. I’ve never really done this before?”
“N
