He rubbed my back. Daddy did it slowly, softly. His fingertips ran up and down my pink pajamas. He’d pulled back the bed covers to my waist, but I w...sn’t cold at all. His fingers were warming me up. I felt them plowing tiny furrows in my back.I raised my head and let it plop back on my pillow. I loved having my back rubbed and both my parents knew it. It wasn’t sexual, but it was sensual, sending ripples of happiness from every part he touched. It made me feel loved. I felt like a waffle with. My pussy just felt better than his right hand.I wasn’t working and he never even asked me what I did all day. I guess because I was often watching TV when he came home, he thought that is what I did while he was gone.To keep from feeling so lonely, I visited with other residents in the laundry room, elevator, or in the little courtyard where you could sit play basketball. I met a few other women but none that I could relate to.There was an older man in the building who paid me a few cash. More

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