When she returned, she started drawing the bath while I dropped my trousers and unbuttoned my shirt. We faced each other. As I shook off my shirt, she...pulled the camisole off over her head. I got my first look at her mature breasts. They were magnificent - perky with hardly any droop, hard pink nipples and beautiful pink areoles. I knew she was my daughter, but I couldn’t help looking at her as a woman. I wanted to kiss those beautiful nipples and make those areoles wrinkle up. I hoped she. I've never been the jealous type but, Damn it!, he could have at least waited until the shine on our wedding rings had worn off.I sat on a cloth-draped couch with a paint roller in my hand and took stock of my situation. I'd been so preoccupied with making the house feel a little more homey that I really hadn't paid much attention to the fact that our sex life had already taken a dive. I thought about it now. Our five, even six times a week before marriage had already become a once or maybe. More

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