dramatical murders aoba and noiz

“Probably,” I shrugged. Since I had Carol to fantasize about, I had been jacking off as many as five times a day. Ah youth…Carol paused and looked down, thinking. I guess she was trying to decide if she wanted to ask me another question. She looked back up at me.“Jim, will you do one more thing for me tonight? You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.”“Okay…”

One day she definitely knew the effect she had on me, even if she hadn’t before. I was writing an essay on The Grapes of Wrath and asked Mrs. B when she came by if a word was spelled correctly. She leaned over, her silky red hair brushing against my cheek and her breast lay against my left shoulder. My cock stiffened instantly—and uncomfortably. Without thinking, I reflexively reached down and maneuvered my throbbing dick into a more comfortable position. It did create a sizable tent pole in my pants that I tried to push down and hide, which only drew attention to my crotch. Mrs. B blushed noticeably, stood up while stifling a laugh and muttered an apology.

I crawled slowly forward, slipping out of Daddy's grip and reluctantly peeling myself off his still-hard cock. I don't think Mom really understood what I was intending, she was still too wrapped up in what she'd just seen, but by the time my cummy little pussy was over her breasts, and I still hadn't stopped, I think she figured it out.