I want to see you do it.
She felt so terrible that she took very little notice of his own indecent exposure. At present he was saintly and she wicked for all she could understand and no thought of challenge entered her mind though she did feel stirred inside but could not yet interpret that feeling. She undressed and did not cover her breasts with her arms as she normally would for she was entirely focused on the task at hand which was to show Dad how she did it. Removed from her clothing she got to the ground on all fours and as it had been tiled rather than carpeted her knees and elbows would soon redden but she paid it no mind as lubrication in a pavlovian fashion started coating her pussy lips and she reached for it and inserted two fingers in it.
Dad stood there watching and if he said something she did not hear and when he went to stroke the shaft of his now fully erect penis she did not perceive any movement. She looked up and was struck with the image of her father towering above her and his dick had indeed become a great and powerful thing now and the world around them faded and only the primordial tool of conception remained surging through the blur its head glistening and its body pulsating with the friction of the hand.
She hummed in rhythm without realizing and arched her back to lower her upper body thus being further subjected to the perspective of the interaction she was having with her father. He himself had now by simple power of touch been elevated in spirit to a stature of godlike proportion to which her own masturbation was like some ancient ritual of adoration. They both rubbed together at short distance and he watched her face to look down into her eyes and felt as if their gazes met but in truth she was focused on his penis and blinded to everything else by the immense power she conferred to it and for her it was the Father incarnate.
His and her pleasure grew and the intense erotica erased the tension and without it more sounds were emitted. He would grunt and she whimper and so by sound alone it could have seemed as if he was indeed penetrating her but what was happening was the forming of a far stronger bond between the two bodies: that of fantasy and cognate and truly shared pleasure in the presence of the other rather than in the primitive exploration of flesh itself. He could barely think and she couldn't at all. For her in fact time and matter had ceased to be, except for two exceptions, that of the organ of reproduction which she now started to recognize as such and that of her own matrix which stood dilated and hungry under the penetration of her fingers.