Comments (0 comments)
  • The tag back then said 32B. Her tits have gotten bigger, since. The one Esther caught me with last week was a 32DD. But that first time, holy shit. I wrapped that bright neon pink cup around my shaft and closed my eyes, felt the silk, imagined what hardcore her tits would feel like…my daughter’s tits. I imagined my hands around her throat, the press of my lips against hers, my tongue in her mouth, her hands tied to the bedpost, body splashed in cum. Her father’s cum. Daddy’s cum. I imagined her crying, begging me to stop, and that’s what did it. White fire burned out the world and I emptied myself into the cup of her bra. I came so hard and for so long fat that I was almost afraid some of what came out fingering might be blood. When my vision cleared, and I looked down, there was almost enough cum to fill the cup entirely. Now, when I tell you that I tried every drug at least twice during my time in the WWE, you know to believe me. And when I tell you that the high of nutting into my high school freshman daughter’s B-cup bra was the singular most exhilarating, body-trembling cosmic fucking experience I had ever experienced in mind or body, you’d better believe it double. I tossed the bra back into the laundry basket and left her room. And then, over the next four years, I did the same damn thing a few hundred more times. It was a drug that never wore off. Again, I don’t know what it is. Maybe I just stopped looking at her like my daughter. That barrier broke, or withered from the abuse I put my mind and body through over the years. Maybe it was never there. But I know that ain’t true. Because part of the thrill, part of the attraction is that she’s my daughter, my flesh and blood, my baby girl. Maybe it’ll help if you knew what she looks like. Five foot four inches tall. The raven-dark wildness of her hair she got from her mother, along with her DD tits. Her world-class ass she earned herself, running six miles a day five days a week, part of a healthy obsession with fitness she got from her old man. bbw Her eyes are emeralds and her lips are plump and soft and her skin is freckled across her nose and cheeks. More freckles dust the tops of her breasts. Her thighs, from running, are thick and thunderous and they look like they could crush a skull between them if she tried hard enough. She’s perfect, a goddamn sex-goddess, and she’s my baby girl. I have to protect her. That’s my duty, handed down from God, and japanese that means I Big boobs have to protect her from me. And the Lord don’t give no test that a man can’t handle and that’s the goddamn truth. Right, no wings. March 2nd Friday It was no wonder japanese the four of us got more than our share of looks. Wanda was almost unrecognizable. Daddy will be home soon.” Big boobs She said softly, tucking a blanket around my naked body. 'Oh yeah!' She opened it, revealing my round breasts held in a bra. I didn't like my brother’s quick wit and razor sharp tongue directed at me bbw or my relationship with Michael. Whether it was the Vigor, fat the kissing, the fondling of the little titties or the excitement fingering of touching a girl, both teens were hotly pursuing the commands of the story. “Believe me, if Carson wanted to go out with you, that means something. I forget that sometimes.” Should we call the police? He trailed kisses from her lips down to her navel. Julie was surprised by how Sandy Hauser addressed her. Ephus stated a small smile coming to his lips. My dick twitched, she felt it and opened her eyes but quickly closed them again once she felt mu tongue licking her lips, she welcomed me in hardcore her mouth once again, hugging me and as it couldn't be any worse moment, we heard steps in the hall.