samara weave

She heard her dad rummage around the kitchen, cutlery clanked together, and the microwave hummed for a minute or so before he collapsed onto the couch with the bowl of leftover lasagne steaming in his hands. Like muscle memory, he quickly switched on the TV and started wolfing down the food like a starving man. Only after demolishing half the bowl of pasta, barely paying attention to the random game show playing softly in the background did he turn to his daughter and notice the look on her face.

“No, you big goober!” I laughed, fighting him off. “Mommy's turn! You get to do Mommy this time!” He didn't understand. “Mom, you try calling him. Say what I did.”

“There we go! I knew you'd remember!” She grinned wickedly, releasing my dick and using both hands to fiddle at the side of her skirt. It fell away, revealing an unbelievable, thick eight inch cock, springing ready and eager into the air! God damn! I'd never have guessed Ray, of all people, had a dick like that! If I'd known, maybe we wouldn't have picked on him so much. “All senior year, you and your jock friends thinking you were such hot stuff! Pinning me down, making me suck you off, calling me your sissy faggot bitch, just because I was a little bit effeminate, and wasn't into sports! Taking pictures of me doing it, blackmailing me, so you didn't even have to hold me down anymore! Making me come whenever you'd call! You have no idea how long I've been dreaming about this moment! But we're going to see who's the bitch now, aren't we Brian? Oh, yeah! We're going to see!”