Molly, her 18yo body still bearing traces of childhood, looks up as Brad enters the room. 'Daddy, I've been bad,' she confesses, her voice a soft purr. Brad raises an eyebrow, his gaze traveling down her body, taking in her tiny form. 'How bad, Molly?' he asks, his voice low. She bites her lip, her eyes meeting his. 'I touched myself, thinking about you,' she admits. Brad's breath hitches, and he crosses the room, pulling her into his lap. 'Show me,' he commands, his hand cupping her young breast, his thumb brushing against her hardening nipple.