dustbinrat

I started gently rolling my hips, proving my words. She was still stubbornly refusing, mouth tightly closed as I painted her face with my cream. But as Daddy snuggled up behind me and started playing with my titties again, staring encouragingly down into her eyes over my shoulder, she finally started playing ball. She was still tentative, just a tiny, testing little lick of her tongue darting out between her lips, but I rewarded her with a happy little moan and stopped grinding myself on her face. The tongue came out again, and again, and the more I responded to her the more confident she became. I still wasn't ready to let her out of her restraints yet, even once she started eating me for real, but I was definitely enjoying myself, clenching my muscles to try to squeeze out as much of Daddy's cum as I could. That was the one and only problem with Daddy having such a big cock; he always deposited it way far up in there, and trying to get it out again was just about impossible before it was ready to leak out on its own! Still I was doing what I could, and Mommy seemed like she had finally gotten out of her own way enough that she was able to enjoy the taste. She wasn't half bad at it, either. Not as good as Daddy was, judging from the few times he'd chosen to use his mouth on me rather than his cock. But still, not bad, and I was gradually drawing closer to the edge. It hit me more gently than the ones Daddy had given me, but it was no less enjoyable, making me gasp and twitch as I relaxed back against his chest.

Looking up from his balls, Sarah found her father’s penis. This time standing fully erect. It angled up and stood firmly just over his stomach, skin pulled taught as it was fully engorged. After all her attention to his balls it was no wonder it was ready for action. Remembering her sleeping log of a father, she listened again to his breathing, but found it just as steady as before. Guess the machine was working like a charm, or at least the pills were.

Their movements were rapid and well-practiced, displaying years of training to hone their martial arts. They did their best to avoid touching each other’s hands, but contact was inevitable, each having to negate the other’s attack. Every time their hands met, jets of steam and smoke would hiss from the contact, with Falco’s water coming to a boil, and Viktor’s flesh threatening to crack from the quenching.