I steeled myself, swallowing hard against the knot in my throat. Getting closer was the only way. If I could reach the base of his cock, maybe a little movement would make him notice. I crawled forward, inching along the boxers, the fabric shifting under my tiny weight. The air grew thicker, warmer, and as I neared the base, a heavy, musky smell hit me—raw, overpowering, like sweat and something primal. I gagged, my nose wrinkling, but I pushed through, heart pounding. No turning back now.
I nestled into the crease where the base met his pelvis, my hands brushing coarse hair. I wiggled, pressing my body against the skin, hoping the tickle would register. For a moment, nothing. Then, a low rumble above—Dad’s voice. “What is that?” My pulse spiked. He felt me! The jeans shifted, and light spilled in as he unbuttoned his pants. The fabric parted, and I braced myself, clinging to the boxers. His fingers grazed the area, a clumsy scratch near where I was, but not quite hitting me. I held my breath, praying he’d investigate further. But then, the waistband snapped back, and the zipper hissed closed, plunging me into darkness again.
My chest tightened with frustration. So close! But I wasn’t done. “I’ll make you feel me somehow,” I muttered, determination burning.
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