I feigned sleep, waiting until daddy started humping me. Some of those nights, I tried to stay awake. Other times, I only realized it in the morning when I felt the dried-up, sticky mess on my lower back and acted like I didn’t know what it was. Sometimes I woke up and pretended not to notice. I knew he would wait until I slept and then rub against me using my body for his pleasure. When I did, I could feel daddy’s hard cock against my bottom, only our underwear separating us, his chest against my back, his hand on my breast, his breath at my ear.
I did not always sleep in his bed, but I did so more often than was necessary. The most intimate moments were at night in bed. When he had a hard day or did something that pleased me greatly, I’d take his cock in my mouth to pleasure him. When I was naughty, he’d smack my bottom, put me across his knee and spank me. When I sat on his lap, I could feel his hard cock between my buttocks I would ride him until he came and he would squeeze my breasts and thighs. When I was a good girl, daddy would put his hand in my panties and finger me. The intimacy between my father and me was limited at first.
