“I’m certain you’ll be back home again very soon. Daddy will always be calling for his amazing daughter.”
Amazing.
I feel such a sense of relief when I hear his words.
When it comes to washing the conditioner from my silky hair, he uses the shower hose, not the bathwater. He pulls out the plug and lets the water drain away as he tends to my jet-black locks, and my horny instincts rise again. I keep eyeing up the flannel draped over the side of the tub.
So many memories…
“I’m dirty inside,” I tell him, spreading my knees. “Please, can you clean me everywhere.”
“Patience, sweetheart. Daddy knows how to get his little girl clean.”
Fuck patience.
He positions the shower head back on the stand, allowing the fine spray to wash over me, and he wrings out the flannel once my hair is done, teasing my calves, knees and thighs as he makes his way higher.
“You’re still full of my cum,” he says. “I’m going to make you squeaky clean, but I’ll be giving you a lot more later.”
I give him my best girly grin. “Maybe I’ll be needing another cleanup before college tomorrow?”
“Good girl, Holly. Wouldn’t want you to go to class dirty, would we?”
“No.”
“I’ll have to set the alarm extra early.”
He’s talking crap, because we won’t need an alarm. We never do. We barely sleep through our all-night sessions. No matter how much playtime we have, it’s never enough to drift off into dreamland.
“Stand for me,” he says.
I push to my feet and he pulls the stool up next to the bath and sits on it, his head right next to my pussy. My legs part on instinct.
“Here we go,” Daddy says, and I moan when he spreads my pussy lips open. He examines me as though he’s checking out the filth for real. “I’m going to have to get in there and clean you out deep, sweetheart. You’re dirty all the way inside.”
“I know. All the way.”
“Very, very deep.”
“Really deep. As deep as you can reach.”
“That might hurt.”
“That’s ok, Daddy. Whatever it takes to be clean for you.”
“Good girl.”
“Just clean me. Empty me out, then fill your little girl back up again. Please.”
He nods. “Turn around, hands on the wall.”
I turn, hands against the tiles, legs spread, the lovely warm water flowing over me as he caresses my ass cheeks with the sacred flannel.
I brace myself, the shower flowing overhead as he rubs the sacred flannel up and down my slit, prepping me for the deep clean. I remember the way his flannelled fingers felt when they pushed their way in. It’s divine. And I want more.
I want Daddy to clean out my pussy with his whole fucking hand, for more of the sensation.
I moan at three fingers, and whimper at four, the texture of the warm fabric grating like a dream.
