But there was no mistaking that mass of dark brown hair. Or those eyes. Or those cheek bones.The jeans clung to the curve of her hips and I was shamelessly looking forward to her turning to walk away so I could see how she looked from behind. And as for the way she filled out that hoodie—“Ehm,” she covered her mouth as she made that small coughing noise to snap me from my trance and stood, messenger bag flung over one shoulder, a bundle of papers held across her chest with one hand. The other was on her hip, which jutted out slightly to the side, and she was watching me—or my reaction—with an undisguised smirk of amusement.“You’re ... you’re...”“Yes, I am. And you’re sitting at my desk.”“Your desk? But you graduated, like, two years ago, didn’t you?”She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Two years this summer. And your point is?”“So, like, how can this be your desk?” Oh, my god. Faced with my biggest teenage crush, I’d suddenly started talking like one again. Get over it, Paul.SHUT UP!Shit, I. “Of course not sweetheart,” he soothed. “Why on earth would you think that?” I blushed a little, knowing I would have to mention what I had seen. “Well, you were... you know.” He grinned broadly and smoothed a hand over my long hair. “I don’t miss your mother but unfortunately I do miss what she did in that department,” he whispered gesturing to the bulge still showing from beneath the duvet. “Men still have needs sweetheart.” He cuddled me closer to him and I felt a tingle in my pussy. He smelt good, even before a shower, he always did. His musky manliness invaded my senses. “But I can do all the things Mummy used to do,” I complained. “Princess, some things are not done by ‘daddy’s little girl’, you know that.” “You mean like this,” I said in a very soft voice, for some reason not daring to talk any louder as I slipped my hand beneath the duvet. God he was hard! My fingers found his cock and curled around it before he could react or say anything. “You know I can do this just.
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