The sheet would havedefied the best efforts of the most determined washing powder scientistsand it looked like Kirsty had long given up on a cover for her duvet.The only tidy part in the bedroom was the dressing table. Loads of makeup and jewellery was nicely arranged and set out there. Inside herwardrobe was tidy too, though from the clothes on the floor she musthave worn something once then thrown it aside.After everything I'd been hit with in the last few days this chaos,dirt, smell and disarray got me hardest. With memories of my own tidyflat, clean, organised and fresh, slapping me one after the other I fellback against the bedroom wall, my knees went soft and I slid down to thefloor, eyes tight shut. I didn't even try to stop myself crying."Grab some clean clothes, love," Deb suggested, her hand resting on myheaving shoulder. "We'll find somewhere else for the night." Clean clothes," I sniffed. "Where?" It's your flat, pet. Maybe I should take you to your mam's."But it wasn't. "I don't want you to learn anything from this kind of movie, sweetheart," I responded. "Wow, I don't think I could learn to do that," she said as she pointed to the woman with a mouthful of a ten inch hard cock. It was definitely a sight to behold. "Daddy. Is that your PJ bottoms on the floor?" Carrie Sue asked. Oh my gosh, they were. "Daddy, are you naked?" she asked this time, and she pulled up the sheet to peek underneath. "Daddy, you are!" she exclaimed, "and are you hard?" She was right again. I was so embarrassed. "Let me see," she said, and pulled the sheet off me, exposing my cock; hard, sticking straight up. "Oh, my goodness, daddy," she gasped, "just like in the movie." "Well, no, not quite, honey," I said, not knowing quite what to say but knowing my cock was at least four inches shorter than the guy's in the movie. "Let me touch it," she said, reaching over and clasping her right hand around the shaft of my cock. "Carrie Sue, what are you doing, girl?" I exclaimed.
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