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With her head now closer she realised what she had inadvertently been getting dangerously closer to. Right beneath his pubic hair her father’s penis lay across his thigh, the business end pointing right in her direction. Sarah had seen a few penises when looking at porn and even her own father’s penis when she was a little girl in the showers at the pool, but seeing it now, so close and feeling the way she did took her breath away. Though smaller than in any of the pornos it was no slouch in thickness department, and it seemed to be barely hard at the moment. And unlike any of the shaved ones she saw in porn it was covered in a bush of pubic hair. Something about it made it seem so real! Which Sarah realised was a stupid thought. Of course it was real. It was her father’s real penis and balls right in front of her face. What was she expecting to find?

The next night is much the same, as is the night after. It’s become as much of her nightly habits as anything else, her body always waking her with a fire in her crotch that can only be satiated with a visit to her father’s bed. As usual, despite the visit of the nighttime succubus each night, her father is happier and livelier than usual. The stress of his job and chores drained along with his balls. Sarah knew she should still be feeling bad about this, but there didn’t seem to be a reason for it. Her dad was feeling great, better than ever, and she was feeling the same. Her newfound lust wasn’t hurting her schoolwork or volleyball practice anymore and she was feeling more confident when her friends brought up sex. She had thought on one time to show her friends one of her videos of swallowing a huge load of cum, just to brag, but decided against it. It wouldn’t be good for anyone to ask any questions on who she was getting it from.

After Cain’s fight, the seventh match proceeded without a hitch, and as always, Seraph stepped into the ring for the final battle of the round. Though his earlier wins had been desperate and narrow, the prince’s arrival brought a chorus of cheers from the audience. One might expect this noisy support to bolster his confidence and turn him back to how he was, but he remained humble, or perhaps ‘fearful’ would be a better word. Every win would plague him with doubts, doubts that he was really strong enough to have defeated his opponents. All of his accomplishments were surely due to plain luck, or maybe his enemies had been paid off to let him win.