Taste me, Daddy
My hand rests on the doorknob and I turn it as slowly as I can, making sure the door doesn’t squeak as I push it open.
I push the door open an inch, just enough to see.
Maeve’s on her bed, eyes closed and facing the door. Slivers of moonlight cast through the curtains illuminating her like she is the prize at the end of a rainbow. Sheets are twisted around her ankles, her sleep tank top is raised to show off her flat stomach.
She’s on her knees in a pair of panties, her body moving in slow, rolling waves. The bed creaks under her as her hips undulate over the giant stuffed teddy bear she keeps on her bed.