pocket campfire

“No silly. You are such a dork sometimes. When you first put your tongue there I winced. I thought it was gross. But since I haven’t been able to get it off my mind.”“I never…” I stammered“Would you shut up? I want you to lick my asshole. Make me cum. If you’re willing.”

Carol laughed as her tight pussy squeezed my flaccid cock out on to the kitchen counter. “Why yes, Jim, yes it was good,” she giggled in a mocking voice. “You’re so cute.” She pulled up her legs and put her feet on the counter, leaning back on her elbows. I was hypnotized watching my semen drip out of her fiery red hole. “You came a lot, didn’t you?” She flexed her pussy muscles sending a healthy gush of cum onto the kitchen counter. “Next time I’m going to make you clean me up.” Again with the “next time…” She spun over onto all fours and slid off the island. “But your cum is so yummy I want every drop.” She leaned over and began eagerly lapping up my jizz. I moved closer behind her to watch her bobbing head. I slapped her ass a couple of times with my limp cock. Not missing a beat as she cleaned the island of my cum, Carol reached back with both hands and spread her ass for me. “Put your dick in my crack. I want you hard again. We’re not done yet.”

As carefully as she could and listening to her dads breathing above, she moved her hand through the patch of pubic hair, the thick hair rustling under her touch. She moved her hand back and forth enjoying the sound and feeling of it under her hand. Once she had given it a thorough tousling, she brought her hand back to her face and inhaled. It was like a lightning bolt shot through her from her head to her feet. The smell was much stronger than she was expecting, the same smoky familiarity to it, but like his underarm hair it had its own particular scent to it, and it was better than all the rest. Sarah trembled as she smelled it, her legs locking together around her dad’s, and though she panicked thinking it might wake him, she couldn’t help it.