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A husband makes a wife's fantasy a reality.
I wanted to masturbate, but was worried that he might come into my room and catch me.
I did the next best thing. I slipped into a shirt of his that I had pinched when mum was clearing out the things he had decided not to take with him when he left home, or she kicked him out. I let my dark hair down so it tumbled onto my shoulders and brushed it so it glistened. I considered leaving all the buttons undone on the shirt, but felt that was possibly too much so just left the top three and a few at the bottom, which came well down my thighs, undone. I plumped my pillows up so that I could lean back against them and opened my book. Although the bedside light was very dim and had clearly not been put there by a bedtime reader like me, I could just about read and, I thought suddenly, it does make for a very romantic setting. That sent my hormones rushing and my mind reeling again as the idea of him seeing me in just his shirt, laying on a bed hit me. At first I had snuggled up under the thin duvet, but thinking about the romantic, or was it now seductive setting I wondered, I pushed it off and lay beside it with nothing covering me, but the shirt. I knew that I would have been showing a deep cleavage, had I had one, for the shirt was undone at the top to between my little boobs. The tail came down nearly to my knees, but due to the open buttons it was parted and fell away from my legs about mid-thigh.
Since becoming sexually aware and wanting to be attractive to boys, I have thought, and have been told, that my legs and bottom are my best features. My boobs are ok, but are too small and are not like beacons to men's gazes as a couple of girls in my form at school are. My legs are quite long for my height and are shapely all the way from the tops to my ankles. My bottom is nicely rounded, yet pert and was described by Alan as being like a 'black girl's bum,' although he called it arse.
I had almost given up hope of him coming to say goodnight and was nearly asleep when I heard the stairs creaking. There was a tap on the door, which was slightly ajar.
"Come in dad," I said looking across the small room as he approached the bed.
I loved his eyes sweeping up and down me and wanted to undo more buttons, but of course didn't. Instead, I patted the bed beside me. He sat down. His hip and upper leg were almost touching me.
"Is this what you wear for bed" he said laughing. "This old thing?"
"I like wearing it," I said quietly.
As I said that, I at first averted my gaze from his, but then looking up and into his eyes I continued with a smile. "It makes me feel close to you when I'm not with you."
He visible jerked and I thought gulped as well. Appearing to be flustered he said.
"Come on, it's late and time you were asleep."
He leaned forward and I thought he was going to put his hand on my tummy. That made me jump with anticipation, but I was mistaken and instead he took hold of the book, pulled it from my grip and placed it on the bedside table. Turning back to me he reached towards me with both hands and removed my glasses and put them on the book. He turned back to me and just looked at me for a few moments. I wondered whether perhaps he was trying to decide whether to make an advance or not, but I told myself not to be so silly. However, when he leaned forward and touched my cheek, my heart started to pound so hard I was sure that he would hear it. I could hardly think when his next words crashed into my mind.
"You're a beautiful girl Lily, you know that don't you?"
"I'm not dad, but I love you saying it," I stammered before muttering. "I really do love you dad."
I looked right into his eyes. Was that interest, was it desire, was it want or was it nothing that I saw there?
"And I love you too sweetheart," he said with an unexpected and unusual hoarseness to his voice, or was that my imagination again? My articulation went on to a