Utterly transfixed by his daughter's show, Paul stare in rapt, mute attention as his little girl lowered the thong she wore, revealing the tiny bit of forbidden flesh it had heretofore concealed.  A soft sigh came from his thoughtlessly-parted lips at her shifting of her feet, as he saw her labia come apart just a little, glistening in the artificial light of the bedside lamps with her clear and reciprocated desire for him.  He wanted to speak, to compliment her, to tell her how good she was to her father, but she already knew it all, and his breath caught in his throat, anyway.<br/><br/>When Celeste finally moved to take him from his trousers, Paul leaned back a little, allowing her freer access to his body and the hooks and other implements of his clothing.  Her teeth took his fly and slowly, teasingly lowered the zip as his erection strained directly against it, and the surrounding material.  Once the zipper was loosed even Paul was a little surprised to find his cock had wound its own way through his boxer fly, apparently at least as eager for Celeste's touch as he himself was.  A soft shudder came from him when her smooth cheek slid along his straining skin, and her lips at the head of his seven inches were enough to make his hips roll forward, even while he struggled to keep them in contact with the bed.  "You've been a good girl, Celeste, putting on a nice show for Daddy.  You can have your lollipop now," he said, at once giving her permission and subtly imploring her to continue.