My nighty was pulled up just enough for you hand to roam between my rib cage and panties. I could barely see in the dark room, but I knew it was you. ...our hands were rough and I could still smell the oil on your hands. I knew you were clean, but you always smelled like the cars you worked on. You weren’t wearing a shirt and I thought I heard you sniff, like you were, or had been crying.“Daddy…” I started to say and sit up, worried about you. Scared that you were hurting, crying, afraid – not. “Marie, I don’t mean that, if I was talking about sex I could wait until your sixteen, seventeen, eighteen until you’re ready and want to, that bit would be easy, I would wait for you, it’s just you can’t do what I want to do. I want to go to nightclubs and to the pub, go to festivals and concerts and there is no way you can do that, both because of your age, but you have got homework and exams and things like that. I’m sorry it just won’t work between us.“Marie, I could easily fall in love. More

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