Sinful Whore

My fingers crept a little lower, nearing my pussy. My clit was so hard to resist. She begged to be touched and stroked and rubbed. I bit my lip and pinched my nipple hard. I leaned back, my head brushing the wall.

“Come on, Father,” I moaned. “I need...”

A door opened and closed.

I tensed. Footsteps walked down the hallway. The carpet was thin, laid directly on the concrete floor. The steps echoed, growing closer and closer. My heart burst into frenetic activity, drumming like the sinful beat of rock and roll. A shadow darkened the door. The knob twisted.

This was it.

The door opened. A beam of light slashed diagonally across the room, spilling into the opposite corner from me, keeping me in shadows just like I planned. I saw the silhouette of my father, still in his black shirt and slacks, the light haloing about his dark hair.

“Don’t turn on the lights,” I purred in a deep, sultry tone I hoped would disguise my voice. “And close the door behind you.”

“Who is it?” he asked as he step