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Already several inches long, she felt instinctively that with a little encouragement on her part, it could be even longer, and fatter.'Perhaps I can help you, Tom. Were you trying to put that away?'She swooped to his side and grasped his treasure, at first handling it clumsily, but as she had hoped, her touch caused it to lengthen and swell as if by magic. It forced itself upwards, until the deep red tip was lying by Tom's belly-button. Tom lay back, and let her have her way.'Tsk, tsk!' she muttered, 'fancy you trying to put this away.' She leaned forward, and, holding Tom's instrument of pleasure in both hands, she allowed the flexible tip of her pretty little tongue to explore it from base to tip. Gratifyingly, it plunged and throbbed several times while she was doing this, threatening to tear itself from her grip. But Miss Buchanan had not lived most of her young life in the land where they toss cabers without learning how to control the wayward behaviour of a mighty pole. She. By the time my father came home that evening I had the meal and myself ready, I also had the radio on in the background tuned to the soft rock station, the lights turned down low, and candles lit on the table, all providing a romantic atmosphere.My father was stunned by the way I looked when he first arrived home, but when I gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek, beaming up at him, he became delighted that I appeared to have risen from my depression. He was also pleasantly surprised with the meal, if still a little bewildered by my appearance and the décor."What did I do to deserve this?" He asked when we sat down to dinner."I just felt it was high time you had a reward for being such a good father." I said smiling demurely. My father blushed which made me giggle. My father was a shy and unassuming man and when he received praise he never really knew how to handle it and felt embarrassed. In the awkward silence, I poured him a glass of the red wine I had picked out to go with.
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