I watch as she scurries around the kitchen putting food onto plates. I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from her creamy, thick legs as she moves about the kitchen wearing one of my shirts. It’s something she always does on laundry day.

The older she’s gotten over the years, the higher and higher the thing seems to be hitting on her fucking thighs. Thighs that seem to be taking up every one of my thoughts lately. Thighs I think about late at night when I stroke my cock. Thighs I want to part before feasting on what lies between them. I want to sneak into her room and taste that young pussy that I know still has a cherry. It’s in there and it needs to be taken.

Running a hand over my face, I try to ease some of the tension, a tension that’s been building for months now. A hunger like I’ve never felt. It can’t be fed and is growing each day.

I should’ve seen this coming. When little Gracie’s mom skipped town five years ago when Gracie was only thirteen, I made no move to track her down. I found out a year later she died from a drug overdose, making me a widower. The only guilt I felt was for Gracie losing her mother, but in all honesty she never really was one.

Gracie was part of the reason I’d married the woman to begin with. They lived down the trailer court from me and my own son, Ty. I felt sorry for the little girl who ran around, dirty and mussed, and her mom wasn’t half-bad to look at. She had men coming and going, and it worried me for the little girl who wasn’t so little anymore.

Her ass wiggles as she moves back and forth through the kitchen.

Her mom and I lasted for about a month, if that. She was gone before the ink was even dry on the marriage license. Probably just happy there was someone else to take care of Gracie. Ty and I have been doing that for the past five years, but the older she got, the more things started to change. I didn’t see her as the dirty little girl anymore. Oh, I wanted to make her dirty, but in a whole different kind of way.

As if finally noticing me, she turns her head, looking over her shoulder.

“It’s almost done. I made your favorite.” She places a plate on the table before making her way over towards me. Her waist-length, snow-white hair bounces around her with each step, her tits doing the same. She’s old enough and got big enough titties that she should be wearing a bra, but she’s not. Standing on her tiptoes, she gives me a kiss on the cheek. I clench my fist to stop myself from grabbing a hold of her and pulling her into me. Filling my hands with her lush ass while I find out if she has panties on under my shirt.

I should tell her to stop dressing like this. That she’s putting me on edge. That I’m going to take the very thing she seems to be taunting me with. I’m not the only one who seems to be noticing her lately, either. Ty’s eyes follow her just like mine do.

“Is Ty going to be here soon?” she asks, making another plate.

“He stayed late to pull some overtime. He’ll be home in a little bit.” At my words she finishes making the plate, then puts it in the microwave. It’s something she always does when either one of us gets home late from the factory. We both know that no matter what when we walk in the door, she’ll have warm food on the table for us.

If you ask me, her staying after she graduated from high school is going to seal her fate. You can’t walk around half-naked in front of two men and think they aren’t going to want a taste. We live in a small town. Most of the population works at the local plastics factory. It’s not like you can go down the road to a local bar and get some easy pussy—unless you want to fuck the same thing everyone else is fucking over and over. Why would I want that when I have a sweet young pussy at home?

I would smell her cunt as I stroked myself off into a pair of her little white panties. I lick my lips thinking about the pair I got out of her dirty clothes last night. I’d already ruined them. The smell of her pussy was long gone from them, coated and replaced by my scent. It wasn’t enough. I need more. I want to taste it straight from her cunt as I jack my cock.

She has to be out of panties by now. I have a feeling Ty’s been doing the same thing, so between the two of us, we must have gone through all of them by now. Does that mean she doesn’t have anything on under that shirt as she moves around, her big tits bouncing with each step?

“You’re not hungry?” she asks, standing next to the little table in the kitchen. She licks her thick bottom lip before her teeth sink into it.

“It’s not what I want,” I grunt out, making no move to come closer to the table.

“But it’s your favorite.” She looks down at the table, then her big, blue, innocent eyes meet mine in confusion.

I make my way over to the table, pulling out my chair and sitting down. She follows suit, and I can feel her eyes on me as I dig in. I do love her pot roast, but today it holds no taste. I sink my teeth into the juicy meat, and with each bite my hunger grows. A hunger that wants to be sinking its teeth into something else.

When I’m finished, I look over to see she hasn’t even taken a bite of her own food. She just watches me like she’s waiting for something.

“Do you want more?” she asks, the same confusion from before coloring her tone.

“It’s not what I wanted.”

“I can make something else.” She scoots to the end of her chair like she’s about to get up. The action makes the shirt she’s wearing slide up her thighs. One little move and I could find out if she has those panties on or not. I grip her by the wrist, halting her movements, my eyes locked between her legs.

“Show it to me.” My words come out thick. I don’t look up at her. I keep my eyes locked right where I want them. I feel her pulse pick up, but her fingers move to the hem of the shirt.

Her hand comes between her legs as she lifts the shirt up just a little, showing me her simple white panties.

“They smell like you. I found them in your room when I was cleaning.”