Chapter 3
He stared at me for a long beat, the silence stretching out between us until he finally gave a small, defeated sigh, a soft look returning to his eyes. "Anything for my princess," he murmured.
As he traced his fingers up, the rough, warm skin of his palms sliding past the hem of my skirts, the sheer anticipation made my muscles melt. I voluntarily parted my legs a little for him, tilting my hips just enough to give him unrestricted access. Instead of continuing the broad strokes, he shifted his technique. He moved his fingers down, anchoring his thumb against the soft skin of my upper inner thigh, and began rubbing me gently in tight, slow, deliberate circles.
At this point, I was fighting the urge not to moan—a desperate, losing battle that I knew I would lose soon if he kept this up. The overwhelming pleasure was a physical weight in my chest, forcing its way out in shallow gasps. Right between my legs, I could feel my soaked panties. I had already completely messed myself up. The fabric was damp and clinging to my skin.
If only he knew the effect of his magic hands on my body. I was practically dripping. As his thumb pressed firmly into the sensitive crease of my thigh, right at the boundary of my underwear, my mind began to run completely wild. I began to imagine how it would feel to have his fingers pressing directly over my panties, tracing the shape of me through the thin fabric. Even worse, I pictured how it would feel to have him discard the barriers entirely and massage my bare pussy with that same practiced, professional intensity. The vivid imagination made me involuntarily clench my core in pleasure, a sharp spasm of pure ecstasy rippling through my stomach.
Gradually, the urge to let him see exactly how wet he had made me surged through my veins. I didn't want to hide it anymore. I wanted him to see what his fingers were doing to me, to see the physical proof of his power over my body.
Slowly, deliberately, I parted my legs wide. I sank deeper into the couch cushions, shifting my weight to tilt my pelvis forward, making absolutely sure he could see the damp contour of my panties from his sitting angle. To keep up the act, I looked up toward the ceiling, letting my head fall back against the sofa as if I were just resting from the pain, entirely unaware of how exposed I was.
But when I casually lowered my eyes and looked down, I caught him red-handed. He was staring directly at it. His eyes were locked onto the damp, clinging fabric between my thighs, his gaze heavy and intense. The moment he realized I was watching, he threw his gaze away, snapping his head toward my knee, but he wasn't fast enough. I caught him, and the sudden flush of heat across his neck told me that he knew he'd been caught.
Instead of pulling away or reprimanding me, his hands stayed firmly on my leg. He continued to rub me, his fingers moving in a slower, more erratic pattern as he waited for me to react, testing the waters to see if it had been an accident. Seeing his hesitation made me bolder. Instead of closing my legs or pulling down my clothes, I reached down and raised my skirt up a bit, bunching the fabric around my waist so he could see everything.
This time, his breathing changed completely. It became heavy, ragged, and shallow. His hands began to tremble slightly, his fingers slipping clumsily over the lotion. He was finding it difficult to massage me properly, his professional focus entirely shattered by the sight of my exposed thighs and the damp patch of my sexy underwear.
"You should be okay by now," he said, his voice suddenly thick and strained, probably trying to give an excuse to break the tension and leave before things went too far.
"No, Daddy. I'm not okay yet. I want you to massage me more," I said, my voice dropping into a soft, needy whine. I looked down at him, refusing to let him retreat now that we were on the brink of breaking the rules.
"Take your time and do what she's asking," my mom said, her back completely turned to us as she focused on cleaning a stubborn spot near the kitchen doorway. She was completely oblivious to what was actually happening right behind her on the living room sofa.
He looked up at my face, his eyes dark with a dangerous mix of conflict and desire, and then down to my soaked panties. I could tell he liked what he was seeing. The raw attraction written across his face was undeniable.
He was gradually losing the fatherly part of him, the strict boundaries he had maintained for years slipping away under the heat of the moment. I wanted him to go higher, to finally bridge the gap between us, but he still looked startled, his hand freezing as fear and desire battled inside him. Seeing his hesitation, a wave of desperate boldness took over me. I moved my own hand down, covering his large, warm hand with my fingers, and guided it upward. I pressed his palm directly against my crotch, right over my covered pussy.
"Lisa," he whispered, completely breathless. His eyes widened in absolute shock, a heavy shudder running through his broad shoulders. He immediately looked back over his shoulder to check my mom out, his body tense with the fear of discovery. But she was still facing her back toward us, mopping the floor near the stairs, entirely trapped in her own world.
I won't deny the fact that was absolutely terrified of getting caught, the adrenaline mixing with the arousal to create a dizzying high, but I couldn't stop. I was too far gone.
"Go on, Daddy. Massage me right there." I whispered, so only he could hear.
He didn't pull away. Yielding to the pressure of my hand, his fingers began to move. I watched the way his fingers were sliding, pressing into the damp fabric of my underwear, rubbing in slow, deliberate lines over my sensitive center. Every movement kept brushing my pussy, sending intense waves of pleasure all over my body that made my vision blur.
The barrier of the underwear felt amazing, but it quickly became a tease. I thought to myself, If brushing through the clothes feels this nice, what will happen when he massages my bare pussy?
Driven by a sudden, unstoppable need for his direct touch, I parted my legs a bit for more space and rested my hand over his hand on my panties. With a swift, quiet motion, I hooked my fingers into the elastic and pulled it aside, completely exposing my bare glistening pussy to him.