I rushed it back to the office, now quite aware of my intentions. I opened the small window and set the telescope up on a file cabinet, directing the lens to encompass the young thing bouncing up and down. From the third floor height of my office, I knew that she would have difficulty making out the presence of a peeping-tom in a miniscule opening even if I could see her so clearly. The girl was beautiful. . . and young. Though it was hard to be sure due to the bouncing, she appeared to be fourteen or fifteen years old. That would have put her near to my own daughter's age, for Rose was fifteen now. The girl was wearing a cheerleading outfit, red and white sleeveless blouse with the letters GHS emblazoned on the material tightly clasping her apparently ample chest. Her red skirt with white triangle stripes barely covered her ass when her upward movements pushed it down, and on her descents the light fabric sailed up and revealed tight, red, shiny panties. Her legs also shone, apparently covered in the transparent stockings often worn by cheerleaders. Her feet were covered in small white ankle socks, and her shoes, if she had any, had apparently been discarded for the act of jumping. I watched the young beauty jump and flip and laugh and scream and simply have a marvelous time. Every now and then the sound of her glee glided up to greet my eager ears. I was growing hard, not for the first time since my wife's death, but certainly more powerfully than any time after her departing.
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As I watched the nimble nymph jump and do the splits in the air, it occurred to me that the girl I was currently obsessing over may very well have been my daughter, she was so young. Never one to belabor any point, I simply ran through a bit of memory -- Freud, what had he said? Ah, yes. That explains everything, doesn't it? No? Then fuck it. That's exactly what I was imagining doing, tearing those bright red panties off and fucking her hot, tight twat, when suddenly she was not alone. An older man, probably my age, late forties, opened a sliding door in the back of their house and came out into the yard. Though for a couple days afterward I believed myself to be aurally hallucinating, I know now what I knew at that very moment: as the man came out to greet the girl, at a period of peak elevation for the little lassie, I heard her shout, "Hi, Daddy!"And crash back down, only to be flung once again toward the sky. The rest of their conversation was lost on me, for I had moved back a bit just to be careful, and now they were not shouting. I still watched, though angling my spying so as not to be visible to anyone who cared to look up to my window. And the man did, I noticed, look up. As suspected, he immediately looked away, his search -- if that's what it was -- fruitless. I watched the next few minutes in rapt lust and disbelief. The girl slowed her leaps, then ceased them, standing breathless as her father stepped up to the trampoline and the girl placed her hands on his shoulders. It appeared, from my vantage point, to be an unfeeling embrace. I saw his back, her torso as though growing out of his neck, and then more of her as he bent down further, as though tickling her feet or putting her shoes on or something. Then he straightened, the girl letting him go, and he turned to the side a bit, not much, but enough to reveal to the spying cyclops that he held her shiny red panties in his hands, put them to his nose, discarded them.
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I was absolutely throbbing with jealousy. The man backed away, retired to a lawn chair, and watched, as I watched, his little girl continue her trampoline routine. Now I looked more carefully at her descensions, examined as closely as I could the pretty cuteness of her ass, the tiny nakedness of her cunt, free even of the burden of pubic hair. That lack of nethergrass made my loins feels as though in a vice. She was so young! So amazingly erotic, with brown ponytail bobbing, smooth legs splaying, and daddy's cunt displaying. She stopped her bouncing again, and her father joined her on the trampoline. She kicked her calves out from under her, plummeting to her knees, bouncing up a bit, her father holding her down by her shoulders, steadying her before him. She fumbled with his pants, pulling out his cock as a bead of sweat dripped down to my eye and blinded me for a moment. With a grunt of disgust I pulled away and wiped the offending tear to oblivion, rushing back to my voyeurism. The girl was swiftly sucking and licking the cock her father held before her. I couldn't believe my eyes! This man must have been experiencing Heaven! And to think, he lived with it every day!And to think, so did I!I watched, enraptured, as the girl expertly sucked off her father, taking him all the way into her mouth, slurping (in my head, at least) loudly on his prick. Saliva strung between her tongue, lips, chin, and his red cock, she'd pull back to let the strands of spit splash her face or her uniform, then dive back down onto his pole, sometimes sucking as though to impale the back of her forehead, other times lifting his cock and gently licking the underside, the balls, then returning to let him grab her head and fuck her mouth. I watched as the man tilted his head back as though to thank the heavens for his little cocksucking slut daughter, then shot loose his creamy white load onto the girl's smiling, eager face. She opened her mouth, swallowing his cum, letting it drip onto her blouse, onto her cheeks, her forehead, into her dark hair, all over her red lips. I ached as she licked him up, cleaning her father, then licked her lips, hands, consuming all the excess cum she could.
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Dad put himself away and walked back to the house. She said something, apparently without receiving a reply, then sadly skulked over to her panties and put them back on. She covered the trampoline, walked into the house. I fell back into my desk chair, my normally loose fitting slacks squeezing my hard cock like an overzealous daughter might first do when giving a handjob, I imagined, smiling. I was thinking about going to my room and beating off to the memory of my new neighbor when I heard feet passing my closed office door. Rose was home from school. I don't know what I was thinking -- check that, I do know that I wasn't thinking. It hadn't occurred to me that that man had probably spent many months, if not years, preparing his daughter for the fact of her eventual violation. He had probably prepared escapes, excuses, threats, bribes, or whatever else might be needed to safely continue in the molestation of his own flesh and blood. It especially hadn't occurred to me yet that she might not have actually said 'Daddy,' and that he might just be an older lover, a secret tryst she had unbeknowst her parents. Or perhaps it was a secret lover, a 'sugar-daddy,' who was aroused by the nickname as his nymphette, girl-child, lover bounced around in a cute, cheerleading uniform. But as I said, none of these things occurred to me yet. As I poked my head into the hallway a breath of cool air hit my face, relaxing me. My office had grown warm as I had opened my window to the hot summer air. The door to Rose's room was closing behind her.
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I strode down the hallway, opening it before it fully shut, my child spinning around, a startled look on her face, a hand over her heaving bosom. "Jesus, Daddy, you scared me!" she said, smiling now at her childishness. I smiled, too, of course, though not as innocently. I pulled her to me, pressing her body against mine, rubbing her back. She returned the hug, sobbed. "I love you, Daddy!" she exclaimed as I turned her around, pressing my firm crotch against her soft ass, through her blue shorts. I put my arms over her shoulders and clasped my hands in front of her chest. She sniffled, giggled. "What are you doing?""Would you do something for me, Rose?"Rose, with hair as dark and long as the girl on the trampoline, cocked her head backwards and up, to look me in the face with her intense icy blue eyes. "Of course, Daddy. ""Would you wear your cheering uniform for me?"She laughed. "Why?""I just want to see you in it, that's all," I lied. "Why?" she laughed again, apparently under the impression that this was just a game. "Just do it . .
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. please?""Alright," she acquiesced, rummaging through her closet. She found it and looked back at me. "Are you gonna watch me change?"My heart skipped a beat at the proposition, but I didn't want to frighten her out of the game before she even got the uniform on. "No," I said. "Do it in the closet. "She closed the door behind her in her walk-in closet and I heard fumbling and tossing and grunting, and finally a door being opened -- behind it, a beautiful brunette cheerleader, GLS embroidered on the blouse, tight over her firm tits, skirt revealing long, smooth legs covered in stockings. Rose had worn the socks and her white tennis shoes. The picture was complete. I sank down on her bed, my pants felt about to explode. I beckoned her nearer. She stood before me, courtseyed. I smiled. I tugged at her skirt, pulling her even nearer, spread my legs so she could stand between them. "Are you alright, Daddy?" she asked.
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I sighed. Reality was sinking in. I bowed my head, sobbed. She ran her fingers through my hair, loving fingers. She bent down, kissed the top of my head, her breasts resting just over my forehead. I was weeping. I was about to do something unspeakable to my own daughter. Be sure: I was weeping for what I was about to do, not because I had been about to do it. I caressed her legs at her knees, then up her thighs, gently rubbing with both hands, still weeping. She shushed me, put her arms around my neck, and . . . I think . . .
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bowed her legs slightly. My hands rode up her thighs, finding purchase on the smooth material of her panties. She froze as I began to pull them down her legs. I felt her breath in, the panties became visible, bright red and satin, then fell to her ankles.
She stood up straight, all feeling having left her touch. Her hands just resting on my shoulders, as though on a desk. I hugged her waist, pulling her closer to me, then unbuckled my pants, quickly swung them and my shorts down to my knees. She was looking off into the hallway. I took her wrists and kissed her hands gently. "Baby?""Yes," she said flatly, not looking at me. I pulled her left hand down, slowly. She wasn't fighting me, but wasn't moving of her own accord. "Baby, Daddy . . .
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needs you . . . to put him in your . . . mouth. "I wrapped her little hand, red-nailed, around my aching love and pressed firmly, tight as the vice I had imagined, stressing: "Here. "Finally she jerked her head straight, then down at me, at my eyes looking back at her, watery. She was beginning to cry, too. "Okay," she sobbed, moving to her knees. She licked the head of my cock, gently, childishly, tasting it. She ran her tongue in longer strokes up and down my shaft, my balls, kissing me and licking me like a lollipop, like a thumb. Finally she took the head of my cock into her mouth, applied gentle pressure, kept her teeth back, sucking, licking, moving her head back and forth, slowly, with no apparent grace or rhythm. The amateur-ness of the blowjob made it all the more appealing, all the more fitting for the scenario that was playing out.
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The girl on the trampoline had done the job quickly, with all the moves that would make a man cum instantly, all the tried and tested methods to best please men who liked blowjobs best. In her expertise, the girl had seemed a tramp on a trampoline -- yes, a goddess, certainly, but vastly different (not better or worse) than the juvenile choking and drooling on my rod right now. It didn't take long. I had been building up too much to take long. I came in a sticky white load in her mouth, without even warning her. She flinched, gagged, choked, but finally swallowed what had not escaped her lips and dribbled down her chin and cheeks. Her hands were messy with the cum, and I watched her lick them clean. Not my doing, I assure the Reader, but entirely of her own volition. Has she seen a porno movie where this happened? Has she heard from friends about how many men enjoy seeing young women eat their seed? Has she simply assumed it would be my desire, in light of the fact that I chose to release myself in her soft wet lips? Or had she genuinely enjoyed the taste of my cum and now, seeing some of it wasted on her palms and fingers, eagerly consume the candy she had missed before?I didn't ask her these questions. I put on my pants, avoided making eye contact with my young daughter, now sitting on the floor, passively waiting. "Thank you, Rose," I said, lamely. "Daddy really needed that, you know. "She didn't reply. She didn't move. I got up from her bed and went back to my office.
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As lust withdrew, shame overcame me and I wept uncontrollably on my desk. * * * Time elapsed. It could have been days, weeks, or months for all I was paying attention. I divided my time between plodding through the necessary steps of existence (food, toilet, sleep), writing, and staring through my telescope in search of the girl on the trampoline. I wrote erotica, or, pornography, if you will. Scenarios, fantasies about incest with young daughters or the raping of juvenile babysitters. Fiction, all of it. It didn't occur to me to write my own story until much later. Nothing publishable in the paid markets, I was sure. I posted on internet websites devoted to the pervert in all of us. I had to believe there was a pervert in all of us, or I feared I might pick up my . 44 and permanently remove my guilt with a flash of gunpowder. The girl used the trampoline now and then, sometimes even while wearing something as arousing as the cheerleading uniform, or, once, a bikini. But she never again took the man's cock in her mouth -- or anywhere else -- within my sight. I even closely examined all the windows visible from this position, but could not find what looked like her room or any bedroom at all, and I never encountered any secret trysts.
I had begun to believe that the man had not been her father at all. The thought of my mistake made me sink even further into depression, for, somehow, ridiculously, I had equated the incestuous violation of the girl on the trampoline with justification for my raping my own daughter. After all, I surmised, she seemed happy enough despite the sexual relations she had with her father. Then one day time did not elapse, but froze. I reached Heaven that day, I know, for any other paradise would entail the speeding up of time as the bliss raced past; but that particular day Heaven was extended over eternity. So goes my reflection of it now, but the Reader may be more interested in the physical details of what transpired. While spying one Saturday morning on the girl on the trampoline, I noticed Rose in her yard, talking to the young vixen. The beautiful brunette children laughed about something and came around the fence, onto the street, and into our yard. The sound of the door opening revealed the intended destination of the two girls. I left my office hurriedly, closing the door behind me. If I greeted them before they came upstairs, they would be sure to remain out of my office. I saw them in the kitchen on the first floor. They were rummaging through cabinets, having acquired buckets, sponges, and other cleaning materials. I cleared my throat and the girls spun around to greet me. I was pleasantly presented with two pairs of barely hidden breasts.
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Both girls had well-developed chests, Rose's coming from her mother, the other girl's genetic legacy a mystery to me. They were not bare, mind you . . . not yet, wink! . . . but being supposedly 'held back' by bikini tops. Both black, both containing enough material to comfortable fit within the band of a wedding ring. Four ovals of material, barely larger than a half-dollar kept the girls' nipples from indecently peeking out at me, but the dental floss-thin strings of the bathing suits left all the angles and curvatures of their breasts, shoulders, backs, necks, and stomachs bare for my appraisal. I took only very minor pains to hide my leering. I yearned to see more, but the girls had both donned jean shorts for bottoms, so, other than the size and firmness of their asses, I could visually procure only that they had smooth and slightly tanned lower thighs and calves, tennis shoes and white ankle socks. "Hi, Daddy!" Rose said, placing a small hand on the other girl's bare shoulder. "This is Lucette. She lives in the house behind our now.
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"I almost said that I knew, then caught myself and smiled as fatherly as I could. "Hello, Lucette," I extended my hand, which she took, smiling in a manner I may have only mistaken for knowingly. "Hello, Mr. D__," she replied. "We were going to wash your car," Rose said, excitedly, then, probably doing some figuring based on the rare occurrence of seeing me outside of my office. "Unless . . . you were going to go somewhere with it. ""No, not at all," I said, quickly, too eagerly. "I'd love it if you washed my car. Thank you. When you're done come see me and I'll give you some money. ""Okay," Rose said, picking up the bucket and cleaner. "Bye, Mr.
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D__," Lucette said, almost seductively, as she followed my daughter outside, carrying the sponges. I raced up the stairs and looked out the floor to ceiling window that provided the best view of the driveway. Rose had backed my car out of the garage, and Lucette began hooking up the hose, attaching it to the house, attaching the gun-shaped nozzle to the other end. I can't possibly write all the details of the next fifteen minutes. There were so many and the short time stretched into one of those Elysian eternities I mentioned earlier. There was the usual accidental soaking that led to the usual water play that is seen so often on those Playboy videos that one might thing it is a regular past time of all American women to wash cars and strip. Well, my girls didn't strip . . . completely. They did remove their soaked, heavy jean shorts and prance around in bikini bottoms as lewd and revealing as their tops. Black g-strings with the tiny eye-patch of material covering their youthful snatches. I looked as carefully as I could from my distance and angle, but could have sworn that Rose seemed to be as hairless and young down below as I knew her new friend to be. It nagged me now that I didn't know if she was shaved that day when I forced her to suck my cock. I had removed her panties, but hadn't touched or looked at her cunt, the act of removing the undergarment being exquisite enough.
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The girls removed hair ties and finally shoes, chasing each other around with a hose and a bucket of soapy water, my car cleaned and forgotten. I wanted to pull out my cock and beat off right there watching them play, but could not bring myself to do it. I'd have to wait, hope they came to me in their bikinis, pay them, and finish myself off in the shower once they left to spend the money. Finally they stopped, picked up the things, clothes and supplies, and came inside. I didn't want to get caught by the window, so I hurried up the next flight of stairs and went to my bedroom. I sat in a position of contemplation, but my mind was too foggy to think of anything other than the young flesh of the girls. I remembered my office, its unlocked doors, its damning evidence of perversion, and went back out into the hallway, turning to open the door -- only to find it already open. A bikini-ed girl with her back to me was looking into the telescope. I realized then how similar the girls looked. Dark hair, full figures, and now dressed in matching clothes, I didn't know whose name to call out. Lucette turned around and stared at me. Then smiled. "Sorry, I was looking for the bathroom. "I pointed further down the hall. She came to the doorwar, stood inches before me, her body even more delicious up close.
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Her bikini bottoms seemingly asking for removal, for adjustments so slight that would reveal her naked pussy. I was leaning toward the wall, with one hand on the doorframe, my body outside of the office. She entered the doorway, making as though to walk by me, then, as if on second thought, she leaned her back against the opposite side of the frame, stretching a leg out, stretching her back, her chest forward, practically falling into my hands.
"Is that why you did it?" she asked, nodding to the telescope. "What?""Is that why you did it?""Did what?"She ran the back of her fingers along my cheek, looking at me almost pityingly. "Is that why you told Rose to put on her cheering uniform and suck your cock? Because you saw me sucking my Daddy's cock through your telescope. "I closed my eyes. The secret I thought I would take with me to the grave was already not a secret anymore. I closed my eyes as tears began to well up, rested my head on the wall. I felt her get nearer, felt her arms around my waist, her body -- her tits -- against my arm. She stood on tiptoe and leaned in to whisper something. "My Daddy cried too when he first did it. ""Did you hate him?" I said through clenched teeth. She rubbed her cheek on my shoulder. "Of course not.
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I was confused, but how could I hate him?""Well. . . he. . . raped you," I said, instantly feeling I assumed too much. "By law, yes; but I felt needed. I knew he loved me. I knew I could give him something as precious as the life he had given me. Once I was able to understand the act, I loved him more for sharing it with me. ""How old were you?""When he first did it? Ten. When I understood it? Twelve. "My mind came back to what was most plaguing me. "But.
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. . Rose. . . I don't know if--"A hand came down between my legs and rubbed my cock, making it grow hard again. "She loves you, Mr. D__. And," then a wicked giggle, "she's looking forward to all the other things you two can share. "Her hand was steadily rubbing my throbbing member now, and I looked down at the young slut manipulating my prick. "Your daughter's cunt tastes like strawberries," she grinned. "What does your taste like?" I asked, grabbing her arm and squeezing her into the space between myself and the wall, her back up against the white plaster. She rubbed her wet bikini bottoms against my erection, pressing her chest out against my chest. "Your daughter's mouth," she said, mouth open in a groan/laugh. "She really wants it?" I asked, stupidly, as I rubbed the girl's stomach.
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"Call her up here and find out. ""ROSE!"Steps running up the stairs. I pressed my body hard against Lucette's, the girl from the trampoline squeezing my ass and grinding my groin into hers. We both looked toward the stairs. Rose froze. Lucette held a hand out toward her, still humping me with the help of the other. "Come here, baby," Lucette cooed. Rose came slowly toward us. I just stared at my daughter, stared as her tits, her wonderful tits came closer. I stared at her barely hidden cunt, certainly without any visible signs of hair. Lucette put her arm around Rose and pulled my daughter's face closer to her own. "Do you mind if I help you and your father get more carnally acquainted?"Rose didn't respond for a moment, then shook her head in the negative. "Are you sure?"Rose nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. "And then they kissed, their mouths working over one another's lips and tongues furiously.
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I took a gentle hold of Rose's long black hair and turned her head to mine, placing my own wet, open-mouthed kiss on her red lips, pink tongue, and white teeth. Rose slid her hand between me and her friend, rubbing my cock. "I want you to fuck me, Daddy," she said quietly when our kisses broke. I took hold of Rose's tits, one in each hand, and rubbed them, grabbed the small patches of material and tore them apart, pulling the mangled bikini off her chest. Sure enough, her pink aureoles dutifully surrounded pebble-hard, eraser-tip nipples. I bent down and suckled her glorious orbs, while Lucette took to manually stimulating both myself and Rose. Lucette tore Rose's bikini bottoms off in the same fashion as I had discarded her top. She then pulled my girl away from me, and into her, Rose leaning back against Lucette, who still leaned back against the wall. Lucette's left hand came around and stroked Rose's nipple, her right hand appeared between my daughter's legs and lifted the right one up for me. I looked down. Surely a greater sights could not be found, even in the Paradise beyond. Naked as when she was born, Rose's cunt was pink and pure and wet with liquids not there when she was born. I dropped to a knee and licked my daughter's pussy, tonguing her twat, seeking out her clit and lapping at it with my tongue, then returned to her vaginal lips, making out with them like a young boy with his date at the drive-in. And, by God, she did taste like strawberries!How long I spent down there I do not know. I was aware of Rose's climaxing a number of times, and finally Lucette broke us apart.
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She removed her own bikini in a more calm manner, allowing me to see the practical twins of my daughter's naked genitalia and mammary glands. I gave Lucette a tongue lashing that only took half the time of Rose's but was apparently just as useful, for Lucette's experience gave her skills in directing my tongue and her cunt into just the right positions to maximize her pleasure. She tasted like Rose's mouth. I led the girls to Rose's room, because I wanted to fuck them in the bright, juvenile realm of my child's toys and books. Rose asked, "Do you want us to wear cheering uniforms, Daddy?"I moved like lightning, picking Rose up and depositing her on her bed, head on her pink pillow, beaming into her blue eyes with a love unmatched by any literary hero and his heroine. "Ah! What a doll!" Then. "No, not right now. I want you too much to wait for you to change. ""Are you going to fuck me now?""Do you want me to?"She nodded. "Then, yes, I am. ""Good, Daddy. "I knelt between her legs, rubbing the inside of her thighs gently, kissing her cunt a few more times. Lucette crawled onto the bed beside her, kissing her mouth, their tongues entangled. My clothes came off quickly and I positioned myself at the entrance to her snatch. I nuzzled the head into her lips, achieving a jerk from my daughter's hips.
Then I pressed on, moving forward, exploring the virgin territories of her inner anatomy. I came upon an obstacle; I tore through it. Rose jerked again, her cry muffled by Lucette's mouth. I implanted myself up to the hilt, reaching up to fondle a firm breast. I pulled up, aware of the blood on my cock, I cleansed it in her juicy cunt, I pulled out, I plunged, repeat . . . At some time her cried became groans and moaning, and Lucette took to sucking Rose's nipple instead of her tongue so that I could have the intense pleasure of listening to the intense pleasure I was giving my daughter. My child. My little girl. I fucked her harder, faster, increasing the pace of her breathing, her grunting. She was too gone to form actual words, save the single word "Daddy!" repeated every now and then. I had to come. I pulled out, made to move forward, but Lucette was faster, attacking my cock like a cobra, taking it into her mouth. I held her head on Rose's abdomen, thrust my hips, fucking her mouth sideways, leaned back, groaned, released my load in a torrential downpour I had never before produced, spraying it into her mouth, against the back of her throat.
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She held on like a trooper, waiting for me to quit jerking and squirting before pulling back, keeping her mouth closed tightly around the mouthful of seed. She moved up, against Rose. Rose opened her mouth. Lucette opened hers, a large white glob of semen slowly descending from Lucette's tongue and Rose's, more cum dripping and drooling out of the mouth of the girl from the trampoline and into the mouth of my tramp. They kissed, shared my cum on their tongues, lips, faces. I watched, enraptured. They played forever. I grew hard once again. I lay down on my back between the girls. Rose kissed my nipple, rested her head on my shoulder. Lucette looked at us. "Is it my turn?"Rose nodded, grinned evilly. Lucette straddled me, easily directing my cock into her tight -- surprisingly so -- cunt. She humped up and down on my pole, white foam of her cum lazily drooling out of her pink folds of flesh and down my own red flesh. I reached up and grabbed her large tits, pinching her nipples, then turned to kiss Rose.
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My own cum was not appealing to me, but they had swallowed it all, leaving only an aftertaste that would soon go away. I pulled Lucette down so that I could suck on her nipples, then took over the thrusting, working my hips up off the bed fast and hard, Lucette was loud, moaning and yelling, "Fuck me. . . yeah, oh yeah, oooohhhhhh yyyyeeeeaaahhhh, fuck me, Mr. D__. "Then she was off of me, down on her hands and knees between my legs, licking and sucking her juice off of my pole. Rose bounded down and helped her friend slurp, kiss, and drool on my knob, Lucette taking care of my balls while Rose took to deep-throating me. I reached forward and rubbed my daughter's cunt while they licked and sucked me. "Fuck my ass," Lucette demanded, exasperated. Rose and I both looked up at her. "Please, Mr. D__. I need you in my ass. "I did not need to be told twice.
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Rose backed away, sitting back to watch this new scene before her, and Lucette lay out on her stomach, knees up, a pillow under her abdomen. I spread the girl's small, round ass cheeks apart, revealing the tiny clean hole of her anus. I spit on it, rubbed my first finger over the prickly hole, inserted it slowly. She clenched her teeth, gripped the sheets. "Come here," I said to Rose. Rose waddled on her knees over to us. "Lick her asshole," I said. She looked at me briefly, made sure I wasn't kidding, then bent down and tongued Lucette's asshole, licking, lapping, and plunging her tongue into it. Lucette moaned into a pillow. "Fuck it! Fuck my ass, Mr. D__!"I pressed the tip of my swelled cock between her ass cheeks and Rose playfully licked my pisshole, giggling. She held open her friend's cheeks for me, and I pressed my wet cock into the young girl's bottom. She tensed, groaned, then relaxed, my mushroom cap engulfed within her asshole. I got better leverage, then pushed forward, ignoring her moaning, putting myself as far into her as the physics of sodomy would allow. I pulled back, her tightness like nothing I've ever felt before.
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Tighter than the virgin cunt of my daughter, of course. I fucked Lucette's ass for ten minutes, fondling or sucking Rose's tits as I pounded my pud into her new girlfriend's netherhole. Lucette came, squirting on Rose's bed. Rose managed to find a way to maneuver her head between us to lick Lucette's cunt from behind. I told Rose that I was about to cum and she placed her cheek on Lucette's ass, sticking her tongue out to brush against my shaft as it appeared every now and then before returning to the depths of Lucette's ass. I pulled out, an audible 'pop!', and then my uncontrollable spraying of seed onto Rose's face and eagerly open mouth, tongue flicking in and out to catch and swallow, catch and taste and swallow. When I was finally done, collapsing back onto my own ass, I watched Rose bring her white-speckled face to her friend's, Lucette's body turned to its side. Lucette, exhausted, lapped at the semen make-up my little tramp was wearing, and breathed heavily. "You have to try that some time, love," she told Rose. Rose smiled at me, sheepishly. "I hope so. "And we did. Question, comments, chat: e-mail badbaddad@angelfire. comMORE INCEST PICS, STORIES, CARTOONS AND MOVIES AT THESE SITESTRUE INCEST&INCEST CARTOONS&INCEST THEATER.
