“Sorry I’m late, Daddy.” I bent over the arm of his chair and kissed his cheek. “I’ll get right on making dinner.”
He grunted affirmatively.
I left him alone in the living room and walked to the kitchen. Mom was out of town visiting her brother, leaving me in charge of the house. Dad wasn’t exactly a homemaker and was hopelessly lost in the kitchen. I had planned on making pasta sauce from scratch, but it was already almost 8. My volleyball practice ran late, and being the Senior Captain of the team, I couldn’t take off before we finished. I didn’t even have time to change, just threw a tee-shirt on over my sports bra and raced home for dinner.
I stood on my tip-toes reaching onto the top shelf for a bag of spaghetti. Even at 5’9”, I was a few inches shorter than the rest of my family. The shelves were clearly designed for everyone else. When I bent over to get a jar of sauce out from under the counter, I felt a hand run over my ass. It’s fingers traced down between the legs, rubbing over top of the skin tight black shorts that were hugging my pussy.