I close my eyes as his hands massage my chest before his touch turns into a whisper across my side where I’m bruised. Soon, he’ll be to the dirtiest part of me, and while I was okay with everything up to this point, I don’t know if I want him washing his dad’s cum from between my legs. On instinct, my thighs squeeze together. When his hands leave me, I open my eyes to see him squirting soap onto a washcloth. My cheeks heat at the realization that he knows what I’m hiding. His voice is a whisper, rough with emotion. “If you don’t want me to do this, I won’t, but please know that I want to. I
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