For the next few weeks my dad didn't touch me again, there just wasn't a chance, but the looks... Oh my God... the looks! I swear that if he looked at me lustfully once then he must have done it a dozen times each day!
As the days went on his looks went from those of longing to those of a man half starved and ready to pounce and devour me the first chance he got.
I was a walking, gushing tap as a result.
My pussy was so wet from my growing need, my desire, for my dad to drink from me again that I needed to use panty liners whenever he was around! A wet spot left behind one evening was quickly covered by a thrown blanket before my mother saw it... that night was especially difficult for us both as my mum had taken dad's favourite chair just to spite him.. OK maybe not spite but she wouldn't move. Little did she know that although he protested and growled at her, he was actually extremely happy to be next to me.
His hand rested between us and his fingers swirled gentle touches across the top of my leg. Keeping an eye on my mother he moved his hand to rest against my butt and squeezed lightly with his head tilted towards me. Daring to be close... but safe.
I knew that he was smelling the sweet scent of me lactating and with the way that breasts are when they're producing milk, I was filling up in preparation to feed him from my nipples. My thoughts drifted dangerously as I recalled our last time and my own sense of longing grew for him to draw sustenance from within me... the whole thing was sheer torture!
I cursed the person who told me that breast milk had no smell. It does. Subtle for sure but it's there and during those moments of blatant desire it may as well been as pungent as a clove of garlic.
I was leaking badly. So badly in fact that it was becoming really uncomfortable. That was the price I had to pay for choosing to tease my dad in the beginning.
"I better go feed the baby" I said as I jumped up from my seat, it was then that I noticed my dad pull the blanket resting on the back of the lounge over to cover the wet spot I'd left behind.
I looked at him slightly shocked while he... ha! He was wearing a cocky smirk in the full knowledge of what he was doing to me.
My dad was a tease! The old bastard knew exactly what he'd done to me right there with my mum in the room! Well... two could play that game.
My mum looked at me and nodded. "Good thinking love. Looks like he's past due."
I laughed slightly and nodded at her... he actually wasn't but I couldn't tell her I was making milk to feed my dad! Mum's gaze returned to the television as I walked towards the door and I felt dads' eyes boring into the back of me and with a sweet grin I turned, batted my eyes at him while my hands reached down and grabbed the hem of my tshirt.
My dad's eyes widened and after a quick glimpse at my mother he looked back to me and nodded slightly.
'Take it off' his mouth mimed before his tongue slid across his lips. His hands were clenched around the edge of the blanket.
I inhaled sharply when I saw him pull the blanket slowly across the growing bulge in his lap. His face was one of pure unadulterated longing as I started to lift the hem.
I took my time. As excited as I was I made sure to prolong the tease. I stopped just below my breasts where moisture was soaking through the material. I bit my lip and took on what could only be called a 'little girl' stance. My fathers eyes flew to mine, his face had now changed to one of begging. His eyes pleaded for me to keep going... to reveal my milk swollen breasts.
I shook my head slightly even though I knew I would give in but my dad didn't know that and the distinct movement of his mouth once again spoke to me.
'Please! Fuck! Please!'