The next morning I awoke early and wandered downstairs. The house was quiet and still. In the kitchen I set about making myself a cup of coffee. The door was pushed open and in walked Danielle. She was dressed in one of dad's shirts, pale blue, and it was unbuttoned quite a way down her chest. It was evident she had nothing on under there and the material skimmed her mid-thigh. I loved how her hair looked - it was tousled and undone - and all I wanted to do was reach out and run my fingers through it.
“Good morning!” she greeted me, hoisting herself up on to a bar stool at the breakfast bar.
“Morning!” I replied, “Would you like some coffee?”
“I'd love some.”
Danielle nodded eagerly.
Filling our two mugs, I turned to face her and I could just about see between her legs. My god, if she
