megan young justice

“Okay, good,” I sighed with relief. I knew Mom would understand, but it was still good to have her word that she'd keep my secret until I was ready. “But, uhhh... in the meantime, whenever you go over to his place, if you wanted to make sure he fills your pussy with a nice big load just before you come back home... that would be okay, too.”“Is that so?” she chuckled, squeezing me tight under her arm and kissing my hair again. “I'll see what I can do.”

She peeled herself off her father’s leg, her panties practically glued to the hairs on his leg and pulled the sheet back up and over him, taking one last look at his steadily deflating cock and balls, both shining in the moonlight from her efforts. Then, taking care not to swallow or choke on her mouthful, she tiptoed out of the room, grabbing her phone from her nightstand and into the bathroom where she flicked on the lights.

Watching him work, the expertise at his fingertips, it was like watching a masterful performance. Even the act of dissection was artful. He was so knowledgeable, so capable, and he would explain how he used these techniques in the past to help people. My fear quickly turned to admiration, and I realized that Lord Noah could not be judged by such terms as good or evil. He is neither black nor white, but gray at both its darkest and brightest, a gray as deep as the ocean.