‘What is wrong with you?’ ‘What do you mean, what’s wrong with me? I’ve been locked in my room for six days! What do you think is wrong with...me?’ ‘It was done for your own good.’ ‘My own good? Was sending Peter away for my own good as well?’ Arthur stared at his daughter in confusion. ‘Peter?’ ‘Withers. Peter Withers, our blacksmith.’ ‘Oh.’ Her father looked away, striding over to the window. ‘That was necessary.’ ‘Necessary? Necessary to whom?’ Cassia moved next to her father, taking a deep. She can feel it start to stir. As she does, her hand leaves my chest and goes down to the lump under her leg. She moves back a little. I'm sure it isn't comfortable to lay upon it. Her hand goes inside my boxers and finds the shaft. She puts her little hand around it and just holds it. She likes to feel it grow.My right hand now goes between her calves. I gently hold the inside of her left calf and start the same routine of moving up and down the calf. I feel the weight of her right leg on the. More

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