alex dorpenberger

Despite her protests, she was much more amenable this time. A bit of hesitancy at first, but once she got used to the difference in taste she dove right back in to eating me again. I could have easily just let myself float on the enjoyment of what she was doing to me, but I made a special effort to be vocal for her, to moan and gasp, making sure she knew she was doing a good job. I knew how much Daddy liked that sort of thing when he was fucking me, and I figured it was probably even more important for Mom. I got there quicker this time, I think because it just felt so naughty to be feeding Mommy Brucie's cum instead of Daddy's. I totally rubbed my pussy all over her face when I came, too—not because I was trying to this time, just because it felt so good I couldn't stop myself from bucking my hips! Daddy gave me one last kiss on my lips, then got out of my way so I could slide myself down and lay on top of her.

Alexis gave a sad smile and hugged her knees to her chest. “Though I complained about it initially, I’ve had a lot of fun here at the Knight’s Sheath. I love living and working with Sophia, I love helping the girls and keeping them safe, I love punishing the arrogant and entitled ogres that come in here and think they can do whatever they want, and I love reading those books on quiet and lazy afternoons. But still, part of me wishes… that Sophia and I had come along with you and Valia on your journey. I was angry at you for what happened, but all this time, I’ve missed you. I missed talking to you, I missed eating with you, I missed arguing with you, and fighting alongside you. Why didn’t you invite us? Why… did you leave us behind?”

Once she’d finally found a good spot, she remembered what she was trying to do. Slowly and steadily, she brought her hand up and over his chest, the light sheet rippling above her the only thing keeping them from the warm autumn night. Again, she brought it down past the end of the hair on his belly and only stopped once she felt that rough patch of hair just above his groin. With only the moon filtering through the sheet above she could barely make it out as she peered over her dad’s waist. Short and curly, much curlier than his armpit hair, pitch-black, though most of his hair was with only a bit of grey poking through.