frisk

“You want to be treated like a whore? This is how a whore gets treated. Fucked when and how I want to.” I pulled my cock from her pussy and pushed it into her ass crack, searching for her tight hole. I let go of her arms. “Spread your ass for me.”“No!” she said sharply. “No way.” I pushed harder against her anus.

“Look what you’re making me do? I was supposed to stop this and now…Oh fuck!! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Yeah, right there…right there...just like that…just like that…just like…oh my fucking God!!” I felt every muscle in her body tense and then release in a rush of pleasure. “Ooooh…ooooh…oh! Yeah!” I pulled her closer until her body stopped trembling. I withdrew my finger from her pussy and licked her juices from it. Mrs. B. was smiling now as she pulled harder on my rigid dick. She started to pull my pants down over my hips and going down to her knees, but I stopped her. She looked up at me, surprised.

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.