DADDY'S NAUGHTY PET
“Keep going. Edge for me. Right to the brink. Then hold it.”
I was shaking now. Thighs trembling, breath shallow. My clit was so sensitive every circle felt like fire. My pussy clenched around my fingers, greedy, dripping down my wrist. The wet sounds were faint but obscene under the blanket—slick, rhythmic, impossible to ignore if anyone got closer.
Mom yawned. “I think we’re calling it. Bedtime.”
Dad clicked the TV off. The room plunged into dim lamp light.
They stood. Mom kissed my forehead. “Get some rest, sweetie.”