My large tits were pressed against his back. I had taken the padding out of my bra, so my nipples became pebbled from the constant up and down stimulation against his back.
He had to have felt them wiggling against him. There was no doubt in my mind about it. What would he be thinking?
He has to feel my erect nipples poking through my shirt and dragging against him. At first, it embarrassed me. I felt humiliated.
But the more carnal part of me actually liked the stimulation. It was pathetic how sex-starved I was that non-sexual contact was something that was starting to turn me on. I felt sick, twisted, and even slightly disgusted with myself.
He was my biological father, the man who raised me, after all.
I gulped, trying to keep these feelings down.
Picasso came to a walk as he led us on a trail I’d never been on before. Greenery surrounded us, and soon we approached a forested setting. There was a river below us.
It was very beautiful.
He halted Picasso and tethered him to a tree, before helping me off of Picasso as well.
I lifted my eyes to see a bench situated a way off the trail. It was private and peaceful.
We both walked over to the bench and sat down. I looked around curiously.
“Dad, where’s the horse?” I asked. His eyes darkened.
“Come sit on my lap, just like you used to when you were little.” He said and beckoned me over.
I felt awkward, once more, but sat down on his lap. My heart was thumping in anticipation of what was to come. The organ seemed to know more than I did.
“Face me so we can talk.” He directed.
So I did.
I moved to straddle his lap and faced him. My knees were on either side of his legs, and my legs were spread, my short shorts riding up, and my crotch was pressed against his.
We were eye level.
“Don’t you think this is a little weird?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“What do you mean?” He inquired, cocking his head.
“This,” I gestured to our bodies, “I feel…exposed.”
He smirked. “I have a special horse you can ride, remember?”
My heart fluttered. My pussy even ached this time. I felt nervous, my mind suddenly putting two and two together.
I rolled my hips slightly against him. I needed friction, but I caught myself and stopped.
“How did you like being on Picasso today?” He asked me. His brown eyes sparkled mischievously.
“I enjoyed it very much.”
He smiled. “I knew you would. I have something you’ll enjoy even better, though.”
I quirked in eyebrow, and he stared at me, watching me react as he made his next move.
He pulled the straps of my tank top down my shoulders and yanked my top down. My tits flopped out, and I gasped as he snaked his hands around to undo my bra. The plump flesh of my tits were pressed against the fabric of my bra.
Half my areolas were visible, they were pink and flushed. My dad eyed them, and he also stared at the points in my bra from my hard nipples.
“Dad!” I said.
“Baby, you’re beautiful, your nipples want out of their confines.” He said.
He was right.
I let him unhook my bra, my excitement brewing as he peeled the covering away.
I felt the air against my bare tits, now fully exposed to him. I couldn’t help but blush once more.
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