grub mimic

“Oh, some eggs and toast would be great, I guess.”“Comin’ right up!” Her dad replied cheerily.“I’m just going to wash my face, be right back!” She called out as she raced back up the stairs.

“We’re going to need some of this,” she said, unscrewing the cap. “Lubrication,” she said with a smile, seeing the confused look on my face. She poured a generous handful of oil and slathered it onto my shaft and my balls. She spied the label as she set the bottle down. “Hmm…extra virgin. That’s the only thing in this house tonight that is virgin anything.” I laughed nervously. I remember now my clueless mom never figured out why her bottle of olive oil kept appearing in my bathroom.

Sarah wrapped her arms around his bicep, thick with muscle from lifting and working in his day-to-day job. She laced her fingers through the curly hairs on his arm, locking herself into her favourite position. Her face rested on the sleeve of his white work polo, the textured fabric rubbing against her cheek. She glanced up to her dad’s face, the light of the TV playing across his stubbled face and exhausted expression. He was barely paying attention, mostly zoning out after his long day. She nuzzled closer to him and breathed deeply. Besides being close to her dad, another reason Sarah loved these nightly cuddles was being able to smell her dad. Even after a long day of work, he never seemed to smell bad, and in fact it mostly enhanced his musk. It was hard to describe, but it was mostly smoky, with some savoury notes as well, something like a campfire meal she always thought. It was hearty and comforting to her and always made her feel better no matter what sort of day she had.