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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.

She walked up to the mirror and opened her phones camera and hit record. In the bathroom mirror she looked like quite a mess, no make up on her face but a shiny layer of cum and drool covered her mouth and chin. She turned her face left and right getting a good look and seeing that she had truly plastered her lower jaw. Next, she opened mouth and angled her chin down. Sitting in her open mouth was a pool of thick white cum. Her father’s cum. The thought made her squeeze her legs in ecstasy.

He couldn't understand me, of course, but he couldn't have cared less; he knew what to do. I gasped loudly as I felt his knot sliding inside, swelling immediately once it was in me, sealing us tight. He was thrusting his hips even faster now, secure in the knowledge that he couldn't come out, taking his prize just as hard and fast as he could. I moaned happily, but I didn't let myself close my eyes. I stared up into the bed, and the look of absolute shock on Mom's face as she watched her supposedly innocent little baby girl getting doggie-fucked right in front of her, made me cum in about ten seconds flat!