Now that they lived alone in his city place, Janine had this blossoming fantasy about her Dad as she hit the age of consent and her hormones raged out of reason and control.
It all began the first time she secretly spied on him as he masturbated, none too quietly in the shower, his gorgeous wet cock at full impressive size and girth, his pounding spray when he came in buckets painting the tiles with a force that made her knees almost buckle.
She knew it wasn't quite right to lust for her Dad that way, but she often imagined waiting for him in his bed like this to welcome him home after a long day at work.
Today, just for her own pleasure, she lay in his warm bed while he was gone, drinking in his virile aroma from the sheets and pillow, dreamily lost in her filthy incestuous fantasy. In the mix, she brought herself to a series of earth-shattering orgasms, once or twice even calling out to him as she exploded onto her digging fingers.
She wasn't sure she would ever have the nerve to dare and cross that line, but for now, leaving her lustful scent in the droplets that graced his coverlet was enough to keep her body tingling endlessly.
Her sex was in his bed. Maybe one day, she would be too.