Later that evening, her homework and favorite television programs had gone virtually unnoticed. All Trisha could think about was the remembered picture of her dad's prick, what it might look like as it passed into the clinging lips of Mildred's cunt. Trisha's own pussy had burned for a good fingering, but she had managed to restrain herself. It had felt important to save all her desire until she was safe inside the closet.

Finally eleven o'clock rolled around, and Trisha saw her brother and parents shuffle off to bed. For a few minutes she continued to stare blindly at the television set. Then she tiptoed down the hall and entered the closet as stealthily as she could.

The dark closet was warm and fragrant. Trisha was momentarily humiliated when she realized she could still smell her own cunt juices from her horniness of the night before.

Trisha took a moment to pull off her clinging bikini panties, exposing her already moistening pussy under her short skirt. There was no point in leaving them on. As soon as she saw her parents naked she knew she would have to finger fuck herself as she watched them, whether she wanted to or not. Finally, panting a little, Trisha knelt on the floor and peered through the hole in the closet wall.

The first thing she saw was her father. Frank was sitting on the edge, of the bed facing her, studying the latest issue of a magazine. He was wearing only his pajama bottoms. Trisha gasped as she realized that her father already had an enormous hard-on, his stiff prick forming a tent in the crotch of the baggy pants.