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"If you won't tell me, I'll just ask him. What's it going to be?" he asked, with just a hint of malice in his voice.
I couldn't think. He looked and smelled like Daddy. And that voice... Daddy sounded like that sometimes. Never when he talked to me, but back before Laura had shut him out completely. That voice brought a flush to my skin, made my toes curl and my thighs start to slide together to control the sensation building in my pussy.
"Uncle Kevin..."
He shook his head, a dead sexy smile playing on his lips. "Call me Daddy." He paused, leaned his face closer and stroked his deliciously rough cheek against mine. "And you're my sweet girl, right? That's what Daddy calls you."
"Daddy..." I intended it as a question but it didn't at all come out like that. More like a hallelujah minus a few syllables or an amen.
Uncle Kevin ran his hands halfway up the side of my arms, his thumbs stretching out to caress the upward slope of my breasts and stop at the two hard points of my nipples beneath the shirt. He rubbed at the fabric with the pads of his thumbs, making tight little circles that had me throwing my shoulders back and pushing my tits higher.
I might have moaned but I couldn't hear anything beyond my own pulse and his heated whisper. "Is that it, sweet girl -- you want your Daddy to fuck you?"
Oh, god, did I ever!
