pink thigh high socks

I don’t remember a lot about the next couple of days. I couldn’t shake the image of Mrs. B. on her knees gazing up at me while my cock pulsed a geyser of cum into her mouth. Not that I wanted to shake the image. I do remember beating my cock like it owed me money for days after the closet incidence.

Sarah’s hand rested on her dad’s stomach, firm with muscle but covered with a bit of body fat he couldn’t help with given his busy days. She slid her hand up and down, enjoying the feeling of his hair rubbing against her skin. Wriggling her face even closer she brought her head right up to his armpit, her nose a few inches away from the hair and sniffed. It was a bit tarter than his usual body odour from the sweat, but it was also a lot stronger which was what she really enjoyed. She dared to move her face even closer, until she was almost touching it and breathed deeply. Sarah was well on her way to forgetting that nasty dream as she inhaled her father’s scent, but on her next breath his hairs trembled and tickled her nose, causing her to pull back a bit. She didn’t want to risk sneezing and waking up her dad. He needed the sleep.

“What can I say?” Daddy replied, gently starting to thrust, and even without twisting to look at him I could hear the wicked grin in his voice. “Like mother like daughter, I guess!” He spanked my ass, nice and hard, making me squeal and giggle. I reached my hands up from the bed, squeezing her big, jiggly boobs from the sides, smooshing them around my head and into my face, giving her a soft, slow kiss.“But... but how?” she asked, still in disbelief. “Why?”