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My nipples hardened as the cool air of the dining room caressed my chest, and my thighs became slick as my mind envisioned what she was about to do for me. “On your knees, you fucking slut”, I ordered.Obediently, she fell to her knees before me. I parted my legs slightly, having her perfectly eye-level with my pussy. I watched her blue eyes lock with mine, as she inhaled sharply, absorbing the aroma of my arousal. “Lick my cunt”, I said, no longer able to control my lust. Her head fell forward, brushing against my lower abdomen. For the first time, I felt the hot breath of my daughter on my pussy, exciting me. Her small nose pressed up against my mound, as her hands reached between my thighs, to pull my lips apart. She blew softly at my exposed pussy, sending a shiver up my spine. In all my life, I never experienced the sensation my daughter gave to me at that moment. The cool air gently caressing my most intimate spot, the breeze only fanning the flames that burned with. It was, she thought, as if the earth itself had sighed. She dropped the potato she had been washing and walked to the open door. Tomas was gathering wood for the fire, yet whatever she had heard — the experience had been hers alone. Her husband swung his axe with great care, split wood into fragments that would provide heat for the night — yet that was all that had happened. He had not heard — it – whatever it was she had heard. She had turned back toward the pale of potatoes when she heard the rustling again, and this time she ran out into the yard. The sun was now fading from the far horizon, the last bands of purpled-amber were settling across the western sky. She peered off into the woods — into that infinite darkness — and without understanding why she closed her eyes. Suddenly she was back in Paris and music swarmed around her like crisp, heady perfume. Without thinking she walked from the house, past Tomas, past the few apple trees that were just bearing fruit, and she.
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