She continued her story around bites of salad. We ate the meal without tasting it, having it as a reason to sit and talk to each other. I reassured an... comforted her. My caring was self-evident, if evidence was needed after the years of our relationship."What are you going to do now?" I asked.Her eyes burned into me: searching, probing, questioning eyes. There was a message in them, a message she was afraid to say. When her eyes finally dropped from mine, we sat in awkward silence. There was. "I'm so excited I'm not thinking straight."Stacey bounces to her feet, standing tall and proud, drops her robe."Am I pretty, Daddy?" She acts coy, tilting her head, her cheeks flushing. "Do you like my little boobies?" She cups her breasts. "They aren't too small, are they?" Stacey, you are more than just pretty, you are lovely. You're perfectly beautiful."That she is, from her broad shoulders to her slim hips, and, my god, such long legs, such beautifully muscular thighs. I try to keep my eyes. More

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