I'm very private & discreet. I like some nasty, wild, & exciting fun. I like Gay/bisexual men &/or woman, Transsexual, & Crossdressers if you actually look like a woman to be my bottom & let me fuck the juices out that pussy. I'm a top (I don't get fucked). I love head & I would love to return the favor. I'm open to Threesomes (MFF, MFM, MMM, MTF, MTM, MTT) & Group Sex with couples. Love being dominant & in control. I get a thrill off the forbidden, sneeky, & thrill seeking sex. I also love making the Impossible possible & having something I never think I'll have. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for a romantic setting, some 4-play, a lil role playing, especially if the woman is exotic & being enticing, I HAVE A Erotic, Flirtatious Nature. I'm kinky, nasty, ambitious, spontaneous, & tempting. I love Fun sex, wild sex, rough sex, I'm embracing my desires. I am what I am. I love what I love. Pornstar mentality & a open mind. I'm on a different level for some & too mature for most. I'm not judgemental & I try somethings at least once. I love to teach & be taught.

This is a communique between myself and a girl I used to fuck. My responses are in quotations.

The previous times they had slept together the intensity had escalated nicely, organically and without the tedium of words and planning. The first time he fucked her it was hurried and urgent, racing the clock before his unsuspecting roommates would return home. After barely five minutes he'd shook his head and uttered "you're too much for me" and pushed deep as he released inside her, behind latex. Several dates later as he fucked her bare, she whispered in his ear that she'd love it if he didn't pull out this time; breathlessly he confirmed the request and almost immediately came, shaking as he shot hard within her eager body. She loved the warm wetness when he pulled out, and the slick reminder of him lingering inside her as she went about her day.

But on this day there was a certain new edge to the energy between them, something menacing coming to the surface as he suddenly threw her against the bed. Then back to gentle and tender kissing. Light, grazing touches. Her heart raced, having no idea which direction all this was taking. The slight fear of him was terribly erotic and she gave herself over to it. Her manner shifted almost imperceptibly. Her entire body seemed to take on a slight posture of invitation, ready to be used, and her wide eyes flashed with willingness.

"The form that flesh takes and in its desire. To be lost in the rage and despair. It is but a knife edge, the menacing nature below the surface. The need to contain, dominate, dictate. And that tenderness reminds me of the intimate, the senses satisfied, which while I do feel, I prefer the hollow, the shell of fear, the unsuredness of ones own nature. The slope upon which we fell, I revisit daily. I would use your body again as a vassal, I would grip more firmly the control of us, and less firmly of me, for in those moments I come closest to my limit.

In cruder terms I want you as an object, a canvass for sexual mistrust and rage"

He flipped her again harshly and without warning, face-down on the bed. He straddled her just below her hips and she felt his cock pressing, searching. She arched up as much as she could and gasped as he slid his whole thick length into her. She loved how full his cock always made her feel, she felt stretched tight around it, truly penetrated. The first few thrusts were deliberate, even casual. Then he started to pick up the pace, until soon he was drilling into her. He leaned forward and wrapped a strong hand around her throat, squeezing enough to cut off her breath. Another flood of fear mixed with excitement washed over her and she tensed. The grip released and she drew in breath sharply, panting. He grabbed her right arm and pinned it behind her back, hard. She rode the discomfort of it, mentally aligned the pain of her twisted elbow and shoulder with the intense pleasure of being fucked. He grabbed her left arm and pinned it the same way. She fought panic and took in the fact of being in this helpless position for the first time. Now he kept both of her arms pinned firmly with his own body as he leveraged his weight forward and gripped her throat again. She felt pressure build behind her eyes and the sound of her pounding heart filled her ears. Release, gasp for breath. Grip, release. Gripping again, this time a fraction harder... unconsciously she pressed into his hand, craning her neck to encourage him. She was overwhelmed by her pleasure in submitting. In that moment she desired to be hurt, taken, used for his pleasure in any way he demanded.

"The body remembers well. The cock pressed inside, against the back of your throat. Spreading each orifice anew. How taut you became under my hand."

What are you going to do?" He murmured it so low she had to ask him to repeat it. Slightly confused, she replied with uncertainty "I don't know..." They had scarcely spoken a word during sex in previous sessions. With a serious face he looked her over and said very slowly "You are going to do whatever I want you to." Blood rushed to her cheeks and between her legs as she silently nodded assent. He grabbed her legs roughly and spread them wide in a swift movement. There was a controlled measure of violence in his face and she gazed into it, showing him her fear mixed with arousal. Still looking her in the eye, he reached down and slid two fingers inside her... slid out and back with three... slid out and back with four. She moaned low with pleasure, pushing against his hand as he rocked it back and forth, curling his fingers inside her. He started to push harder and she felt the hard knuckles of his hand pressing to gain entry. She gasped in audible pain, involuntarily closing her legs around his hand. He relented, easing the pressure and the pain returned to a pleasurable level. This exercise was repeated a number of times, but in the end the pain was too great when he tried to force his hand inside. So he raised it, warm and wet from her, to her face and she opened her mouth obediently, eagerly. He slid all four fingers into her mouth and she closed her eyes in enjoyment as she cleaned her taste from them.

Is mental domination a thing? I'm a fat old whore with about as perverted a mind as one can get. I need somebody capable of getting deep inside my head and callous enough to mind fuck me with what he finds. Mind control? Brainwash? If you know how, you are welcome to try. Emotional Sadists, if you wish to get to know me enough to badly hurt me, I'll answer any question or tell you anything you want to know.

ATT: All humans beings of 25 human years and up, SPECIFICALLY South Africans - Exclusive Pan-Sexual (I don't buy these sexual-orientation gerundive labels either, but as a fairly accurate generalised proclivity expectant it will have to do = or I could have said: just enjoy fucking everything thats' alive, legal and human) Hard Swing Orgy to be Hosted close to Cape Town end September 2016.

The Party is a minimum time investment of Friday night 20:00 through to Sunday morning 08:00. No popping off to feed the cat or check on the twins or blaze blunts in your Renault.

Minimum age of applicants: 25 (ish) or proof of minimum 2 year completed membership at an acknowledged Swinger Club endorsed by the Co-Hosts.

Minimum age of consideration for Fluffers, Pets or Valets is 21, non-negotiable.

Deposit upon acceptance of an invitation $1000 (excluding taxes / directives) per person. This is the maximum anyone will pay and covers everything. Yes, I really do mean everything. There are several mechanisms to earn proportional refunds. There is opportunity to receive 25% of their deposit back upon departure post-party for being part of the orientation and etiquette refresher (week prior via webcast). Any guests who are active members of MOTHERLESS.COM from application to departure will receive a 6-month Premium Membership to the site from 1 October 2016 to 31 March 2017.

*You are welcome to refer anyone to get the preamble and be put on the potential applicants list they will need to register and participate on MOTHERLESS.com. We don't read deeply into your profiles but it does give certain insights. Only people on the potential applicants list will have their applications processed.*

The setting is a kick-ass mansion which is professionally staffed and stocked. All food, alcohol, attendants, security, medical, gimps, prostitutes, media capture, sex-paraphernalia, fetish gear, raffle tickets consumables and insurance is included. One strictly controlled zone will be live-streamed to certain broadcast partners / websites. Participants have the option of enforcing certain visage censorship options. However your image rights for the prescribed event times and all profits generated from the trade thereof will be contractually leased to us for the prescribed duration of the party.

No masks, cosplay or theme ; guest-list flavour is Pan-Sexual Libertine and we reserve right of admission and omission to make sure the spread is appropriate. All attendees will participate in an online orientation. There is a compulsory ice-breaker for all guests (in the city) the week prior which does have a COSPLAY element, critical to the success of our previous endeavors. Attendance and participation in these essential mechanisms will guarantee a partial refund of the 1000 US Dollar deposit.

This is a Full Hard Swing Party with themed niches, and Pan-sexual in nature, lipsticks and dipsticks will be weeded out during selection process. No cross-species or fecal interactions, nor any juvenile titillation. Any other legal sexual proclivity is welcome for consideration and all applicants need to have at the absolute minimum tolerance for all kink indulgences. If you have boundary list as long as the League of Nations cartographers stick to chat rooms and a some-sex marriage. And your new hobby of deciding how to rebuke me for that insolence.

To paraphrase our beloved site : if it's legal and it gets you wetter than an otter's pocket or harder than genius level Sudoku - it's on. My acid test on any sexual dilemma is "What would Belladonna do?". Then do it.

Everyone may request the preamble and suspiciously question me in an irritable tone via email or this site's inbox but eventual applicants need to be authentically pan-sexual and broadly sexually tolerant and participant Being offered an opportunity to book a place isn't an immediate process so if you are one of those folk that uses that infuriating brush-off "no ping-pong mails" Don't even bother.

Be fluent in English (written and spoken) and practiced in basic swinger etiquette. There are no physical or mental trump cards so if you pride yourself on your monolithic plumbing or Sting-level Tantric skills super - pop it under "Misc". And if you reckon you're the greatest fuck on Earth then we are lucky to have you and can I get a high five while we Australian Spit-Roast an androgynous hod-carrier with "Don't untie the balloon-knot" tattooed in the small of his back? The only way on planet Earth to manipulate me is to be Harley Quinn and threaten my life if I don't fuck you to within an inch of yours. And I don't mean Margot, I mean Harley.

If you meet the age, un-undead and species requirements and can afford the cost you are welcome to apply.

Any folk who are not living locally are offered a free concierge, accommodation, city orientation and travel management package with significant discounts as an optional extra.

old-agreed personal boundaries, discretion, respect and personal safety are FIERCELY sovereign and enforced by our staff who are uniquely experienced in what is a very intense and volatile environment. We rely upon the accuracy of our selection process to prevent any potential unpleasantness but where there are humans, alcohol and sex there is potential jeopardy. The hosts and hubbers manage the sexual climate but from the arrival of the first paying guest until the hosts departure our man Hein is in charge and decision maker. 'n sterk, sterk mannetjie.

All monies are handled via a Trust with external auditing and transacting.

There are 16 guest spots (excluding hosts and staff), I will be looking for one hub couple who will participate free if they take on that practical prefecture for the party. There are 15 remaining Valet and Fluffer positions which are paid contractual roles.

To get preamble:

Message me on the site with friend request (it will be accepted and must stay in place until you make a decision to apply or not. I'm not in the business of harvesting chaff online so unfriend me when it suits you. The premable will be sent out once a week, each week of this month, applications open 1 September.

If you meet age requirements, can afford the cost and are excited to attend you are welcome to apply. Bribes of under 75 000 000 US Dollars will be kept as evidence for about 20 years then thrown back in your face. Rights share participation is not on sale.

Time-wasters, BullShitters, assholes, The Welsh, Scammers, Trolls, Uber-Trolls and UCAs all are welcome to engage / annoy me, just be sure to expect an answer in kind. I don't use chat apps and only use a cell phone to fake calls and look earnest when I can't watch pornography on any other human-sized device. I do not understand pacmen or code, morse the pity.

Suggestion - this is not a compulsory exercise, religious evangelism, product or company recruitment process nor is it my way to antagonise folk. Please think about it before castigating me and questioning my motives, moral fibre, family tree, breeding, choice of jai alai team to support and gene pool.

Our agenda: We like fucking and we like earning money while we fuck, on a carpet of money. If possible.

Application is free, apparently so is Willy. Which is encouraging.

RIGHT here is the requisite CLICHE:

You will know if this is for you or not, act accordingly - of you are unsure or curious follow your nose.

ALWAYS Asked Questions............

How do I know you will deliver the party you are advertising?

Nobody is going to put down 1K USD without being convinced. If you aren't confident in what you have experienced with us by decision time - reject your option to attend and say cruel and uncouth things about my partners.

Other Hosts' Site Profile names please?

My Co-Hosts are not members of this site, so yes, if you choose to pursue interest here you have to deal with me. If you don't like that send a strongly worded email complaint to my boss: "Anonymous". He is often posting on the boards here and seems involved and just a lol of fun.

Can I talk to people who have attended previous such parties of yours (and I don't mean you or any other hosts / employees you Douche-bag)?

Yes, it is part of the process for successful applicants prior to invites being distributed. Although it strikes me you are the one that is full of shit.

Are you Bill Murray?

Fuck no, I wish.

What is it about cumming inside a married woman?

True story. I went out with this girl in college for a while. Great sex. Bad relationship. We broke up but become occasional fuck buddies, even when she had boyfriends. She gave the appearance of some class, went to private school, wore nice clothes, and family had money. But deep down she was trash. Found out she had been banging at least three different guys early on when we were supposedly exclusive. So she had cheated on me, just like she had cheated with me when she had boyfriends.

I graduated, went overseas, came back a few years later, and she tracked me down at an event when I was in my college town. Still don't know how she did it, and never asked. She said she just needed to talk and clear the air. By this point, I had put her out of my mind and any feelings I had toward her were very negative. But I agreed to see her. We were going to meet near her hotel. I don't know why she was in town or had a hotel and, again, something I never asked.

We ended up meeting in her hotel room, supposedly before going to get a coffee and talk. We sat on opposite queen beds, facing each other, and she wanted to dig up the past and get forgiveness, etc., stuff I didn't care about. So, I told her whatever she needed to hear and just wanted to leave. She teared up and said she just needed a hug. She came over and sat next to me, and I hugged her.

Now, she was a bigger girl, to be sure, and had DD tits. Oddly, her tits were never very sensitive, but they had been fun for me in the past. Feeling her tits against my chest brought back old feelings. Our sexual chemistry began to override the otherwise bad fit that we were for each other, just as it had before. She held my hands in hers and looked at me. I looked down at her hands and noticed, for the first time, that she had a wedding ring with a big fucking rock. I was kind of an idiot about such things then, and didn't notice wedding rings. Before that, I had a vague sense she was married. Wasn't sure though, and didn't care. I was not thinking about her before this. But now I knew she was married and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

I told her it was a nice ring. She ignored what I said and hugged me again, and thanked me again for... whatever... listening, saying I forgave her, whatever the hell I had said to get out of the conversation. But cheek to cheek, her breathing got faster, and she started to move against me, just a little bit. I thought, fuck it, I'm going fuck this cheating bitch.

I moved to kiss her, and she acted like she couldn't do it. It was a game, and I knew it. I only needed to take her a little bit further. It was coming back to me about when she had a serious boyfriend and supposedly couldn't fuck me. All I needed to do was get her far enough, get a finger in her, and it was all over. I started to remember all the times that she had fucked me when she in relationships. She was an upper middle class proper seeming girl who could look you in the eye and lie to your face without blinking, and she was born to cheat. I almost felt sorry for her husband.

I kissed her again, and this time she kissed me back. I could literally smell her arousal on her breath. It was weird, but we had been animalistic in the past and it all came back. We laid back on the bed as we kissed and grinded and she grabbed my cock through my pants. She desperately unzipped my pants and grabbed my cock. She stopped and looked at it, then said that she had forgotten how nice it was. I'm not huge, but I'm definitely well above average. I told her to suck it, and pushed her head toward it. She resisted and I remembered how she didn't like that. Thought it was disrespectful or some such shit, as if she weren't a whore. So, I kissed her again. Then, because it was on "her own terms," she brought her head down and wrapped her lips around my cock.

It was the middle of the day, and even with the blinds drawn, there was plenty of light. I was staring down at this married woman sucking and stroking my cock with a hand that had a big wedding ring. I was worried I would blow right then and there. She had always been a fairly decent cock sucker, letting me blow in her mouth, although she wouldn't swallow. Another one of her rules to keep some facade of respect, just like she wouldn't fuck doggy style (although, that had turned out to be because she'd been sexually abused when younger, usually face down or on her hands and knees, but that's another story).

I had to get her to stop or I'd blow. I pulled her up and kissed her some more. Then I took off her shirt with no resistance. I undid her bra and saw the big tits I'd seen so many times before. I sucked one nipple while I cupped the other breast. Then I remembered that this was not the key to opening her box. She had said that rubbing her tits was rubbing her arm. Weird, but whatever. I reached down into her pants. I got past the wiry pubic hair and felt where she was wet. When I ran my finger up and down her slit, she gasped. When I worked my middle finger in, she moaned, and bucked, and I knew it was all over.

She pulled my pants down, and I kicked them off the rest of the way. I took off shirt, now fully naked, and then helped her with her pants that she was already taking down. Now we were completely naked on the bed and kissing, and humping, and I got her on her back. Missionary was always her favorite position. I positioned my cock near her entrance and she stopped me and said no several times. She told me she wasn't on birth control, and that I needed to put on a condom. I told her I would. But she didn't have a condom, and neither did I.

We couldn't stay still any longer, and while on top of her pushed my cock against her wet opening. She said I couldn't, that she couldn't risk it. I told her I would just use push in a little bit, that I needed to feel her. She said nothing, so I pushed a little. She gasped as I only gave her the first inch or two, and moved in her shallowly. She was tighter than I remembered. After about 30 seconds, she started panting out how we couldn't do this, how this wasn't safe. But she kept moving. I slowly creeped in a little bit more with each stroke, now using almost half my cock. She again said that we couldn't do this, but she grabbed my ass and pulled me in as she thrust up to meet me. I was almost balls deep in one stroke, and she let out a cry that would have been heard by anyone in a room next door. My next strokes had my balls slapping her asshole, another thing that she always loved.

She said I couldn't come in her. Then she asked me to say "okay." I said okay, that I would pull out. We fucked and fucked and I asked her how I felt in her. She said she loved me inside her, a standard line of hers from the past. I asked how my cock felt. She said it was so good. I asked her if it was the best cock she had in a long time. She wouldn't answer, so I stopped. She begged me to keep moving and tried to thrust against. I leaned up and looked at her, only letting the slightest movements of my cock inside her keep her pussy aroused but needing more. I told her I need an answer to whether it was the best cock she had in a long time. She said yes. I told her she had to say it. She paused, then said the words, that it was the best cock she had in a long time. I moved a little bit more to reward her, and she responded. But then I asked if it was the biggest cock she had in a long time. She said it was the biggest cock she had in a long time. I drove into her and got chest to chest again, and in her ear I asked if she would be thinking of my bigger cock the next time she fucked her husband.

I thought I had gone too far. She wouldn't answer, and she hated calling it "fucking," another one of her ways of pretending she wasn't trash. I asked her again, while slowing down. She said it. She told me that she would be thinking of me the next time she was "with" her husband. I asked what she would be thinking about, and she said me, and my bigger cock. That got me so hot, and I might have had even more blood engorge my cock, if that was possible. It did something to her too. We moved in a perfect rhythm, and I could feel her walls begin to contract and release, and I knew an orgasm was near. She shrieked and moaned, and moved in a way that I was not going to be able to stop from coming. I tried to slow down, and she begged me to keep going, that she was going to come. I told her that I was going to come, and started to pull out. She grabbed my ass again and pulled me in, and moaned out a loud and orgasm as she fucked against me. I gushed into her just as she was coming, which was how we had usually done it.

I stayed inside her for a while, then I pulled out, causing a gusher of slime to run down her married asshole onto the bed spread. I got up and grabbed my clothes. She asked where I was going, and I told her I needed to get back because people would wonder where I was. She asked accusingly about whether I was going to spend any time with her, or just leave after that. I told her that she should get back to her husband, and she told me I was an asshole, which was kind of true in this situation.

She started to cry and rolled the bedspread around her naked body, as if to cover her shame. She said she couldn't believe she had just done that with me. She started to sob, and said that she had never been unfaithful to her husband before (which was almost certainly a lie). She said she wasn't on any birth control and was scared. That was my cue to go and comfort her and stay with her, and the younger version of myself would have fallen for it. I took it as my cue to wish her the best and walked out the hotel door to my car.

She tried to get in touch with me twice after that. She somehow got my email, probably from an old college classmate, and said that she often visited the far away place that I was then living. I ignored it. I looked her up on FaceBook later and figured out that she had divorced the guy she had been married to when we fuck. She remarried, she's pretty fat, and she has two kids. She probably cheats on him too. Poor guy.

While I'm glad I never had anything to do with her after that last time, I do think about it sometimes. I think about how I got her to go against all better judgment and let me -- even made me -- cum inside her, about how she drove home to her husband with my cum leaking into her panties, and how the next time she fucked her husband she undoubtedly was thinking of me.

Fucking married women became a bit of an obsession for a while, and I became a bit disappointed in how easy it could be to get women to ignore their vows. To not only cheat, but to ridicule their own husbands while doing it, and then go home and pretend to be the loving wives while my sperm was still swimming inside them.

It's come full circle, because it's made me think about my own wife. I don't think she has cheated. But I actually get turned on by the prospect of some guy trying. Could he turn my wife? Could my wife fuck some horse cocked son of a bitch who makes her say he's better than me while he stretches her hole? Would she come home to me and kiss me, and talk about taking the kids to school, all while some dude's goo is dripping out of her bruised cunt? Maybe. I'm sure a lot of women I fucked pulled off that fake act. I almost wish it would happen, but I don't know why. Maybe it's the fucked up mental payback for what I did.

Sub-Life
Does anyone else ever feel severely fucked up for being a sub? I'm a strong believer that bondage is art. It's a beautiful thing when done by someone who truly has good rope techniques. But do you ever feel seriously mental for needing to be controlled, or needing pain? I often have this war with myself. I NEED to be controlled and I NEED pain. There are certain experiences I have gone through that have made me this way. How do you get over the war that goes on inside your head? I've only been an active submissive the past 1.5 years. So this is all still quite new to me. Any advice/suggestions would be greatly appreciated! I often feel like a sick young lady for wanting to be : spanked, tied up, degraded, tortured, slapped, being made to beg, all of that good stuff. Has anyone else had this struggle and how did you overcome it?
Thanks much
Layni

my stepmother is such a cunt. she is the most controlling, judge-mental bitch i know. and i want to shove my dick in her mouth and ass. i play with her panties and rub my dick all over them. i leave cum where her pussy goes and put them back in her drawer. this bitch is sexy too. in her 40's and has a fat ass and delicious smelling pussy. i was walking by her room once and she was changing. i saw her in a black thong. she closed the door quickly but the memory is still with me. another time she came downstairs wearing some really tight, extremely short boy shorts. i saw her pussy lips. she knew i noticed but didn't say anything. another time i know she caught me trying sneak a peak while she was wearing a dress. i just want her to bend over and let me ravage her.

I wrote a KotH fan fic years ago then forgot about it. Just added a part 2. Enjoy!

Nights in Arlen
A KotH sex story
By: null

It was about 9:30 PM on a Tuesday night in Arlen, TX. Luanne Platter and her friend Jaime are sat on Jaime’s 2nd floor apartment balcony. Not a big place at all but Jaime kept it clean and welcoming. Hot but with a nice breeze blowing, the two of them are in shorts and sneakers. Luanne decided on a black bra and white tank top for her visit. Jaime’s was the last place on earth where Luanne felt comfortable and somewhat normal. Jaime has on a hoody but her D breasts are not easily stashed away.

“It’s getting late Jaime… I have to go soon” said Luanne as she tapped out another cigarette from her friends pack, her 3rd that hour.
“Do you want to go to Sugarfoots tomorrow? I’ll give you a ride. I definitely saw a ‘help wanted’ sign. They would hire you in a second!” said Jaime, Luanne’s friend of a few years. Not as pretty as Luanne but built the same way and on par mentally.
“I don’t know. I guess. I hate waiting tables. It’s like being a servant. You have to be happy when you’re really not.”
Luanne was visibly troubled and her friend was getting worried. Luanne had been broken up with Lucky for two months. Even before her and Lucky hit the rough patch that led to their parting ways her attitude had been different. Not the happy, blissfully clueless, piece of southern thickness those who know her have come to expect and love. These last few months she’s always seemed preoccupied and when questioned dismissive and distant.
“Luanne, what’s wrong? You’re not being Luanne. Are you still hung up on Lucky?” asked Jaime.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jaime.”
Jaime grew worried and decided to change the subject.
“So do you want to go to Luke’s Saturday night? He and his friends are crazy! We need to just wear next to nothing, go there, and show off. Then leave early. They’ll be so about us then we’ll just leave!” Jaime envisioned their victory and laughed. Her chest bouncing as she didn’t have any support on.
“I don’t know, maybe.” Luanne responded, blankly, as she finished another of her friend’s cigarettes.
Jaime was sure a wild night of flirting and showing off followed by an abrupt departure would be just what Luanne needed to get her back on the right track. She felt accomplished already. In the way that she and Luanne’s type often do as they envision their future through rose colored glasses.
“Alright, I gotta go. So you can give me a ride tomorrow?” asked Luanne, with a curious increase in vocal energy that Jaime could not explain.
“Anytime, just call. I’m off all day.”
Luanne made eye contact with Jaime for the first time in 15 minutes.
“You’re the best” said Luanne.
Jaime felt sad at that moment. It confused her as this small compliment should have lit her up. It didn’t and it was the way Luanne said it. As if it meant something more than a simple thank you. She stood up and squeezed Luanne tight. Their breasts each flowing outward as they tried to escape the pressure of the embrace.
“I love you girl… you know that right?” asked Jaime.
“Yea, I love you too Jaime. Mind if I take a cig for my walk home?”
“Take them. I have a carton in the fridge.”
“Thanks” Luanne responded, relieved. She squeezed back to equal Jaime’s embrace.

---

As Luanne walked home one thought, and one thought alone, was dominating her. She literally had to shake her head once in an attempt to push it away. The wind was calmer now. It was summer so kids were out playing hide and go seek. She saw a young boy find and start chasing a younger girl. The young girl was laughing uncontrollably as the boy tackled her onto the grass. Luanne was struck with a profound feeling of nostalgia. As she watched her steps she reminisced on her summer nights as a young girl running from boys. She tossed a cigarette butt into a drain. She crossed her arms under her breasts and her cleavage grew. The good memories of summers past were distorted then gone, replaced by a knot in her stomach. She had begun to hate her body. She hated that her breasts were so big. At one time they were such a source of confidence and pride. Now they disgusted her. As she thought about this she almost wanted to uncross her arms as she could not even stand indirectly touching them. She hated her golden blonde hair. A feature all of her girlfriends constantly said they wished they could have. “You can fucking have it” she thought. Anymore she just wore it in a lazy pony-tail. She hated her thick, round, protruding ass. Something most girls would hate but she loved once upon a time. An asset guys in her area were most keen on. She knew what she had and she flaunted it. Now, it was most decidedly a hate filled relationship. With her chest she could cover up, which she did when she was anywhere but at Jaime’s. But with her ass there was nothing she could do. All of her clothes were what they were. Short, tight, or revealing. In most cases all of the above. As she thought about her wardrobe she began to hate the girl she used to be. This caused her to tear up a little as the thought of hating ones younger and more innocent self is tremendously complicated and confusing. Luanne would never think on that sort of ‘meta’ level but she did know what she felt and it was weird. As she turned down the alley behind Rainy Street her steady pace was significantly slowed as her eyes met the yellow walls of the Hill residence off in the distance. Red truck parked in the driveway. For a second all thoughts and feelings were absent as if she were a deer in headlights. Slowly a feeling of dread surrounded her. She had been down this alley hundreds of times. If she had any talent in her hands she could draw it from memory. That said, for the past few months it has felt absolutely alien to her. She tightened the cross under her pale, ample boobs and began the final trek home. She was sick to her stomach now. She felt sweat beginning to accrue on her forehead. Her jaw was tight. Her hands were clenched. This all became apparent at once as she landed her first step on the driveway.
“Luanne!”
She felt as if she was hit on the back of her head as all the feeling of the past minute was instantly gone.
“Luanne look!”
She turned and looked towards the sound of her name. Bobby and Joseph were running toward her. Bobby was holding something in his hands.
“Bobby, what?” Luanne called out half in a daze having come from the mind state she was in.
“It’s a frog we found down by the Johnsons pond. Look how big it is!” Bobby cried.
Bobby and Joseph arrived at where Luanne was standing sweating and dirty. In Bobby’s hands was a rather massive green frog.
“Bobby that’s gross” Luanne said half aware.
“Do you think Dad will let it in the house?”
Luanne felt a quick jolt of electricity shoot from her head to her toes when Bobby mentioned him.
“I don’t know Bobby. Maybe you should let Joseph keep it tonight and find out in the morning. He might be sleeping” Said Luanne with ulterior motives for keeping him unbothered if at all possible.
Suddenly aware that he’s been mentioned by Luanne Joseph’s gaze was broken away from her thick round ass.
“Yea, my dad won’t care!” he stammered trying not to lose the image of Luanne’s deeply defined ass crack and underwear lines in her tight red cotton shorts.
“OK, Joseph. We can keep it at your house. But if my dad says it’s OK he’s moving in tomorrow! Now come on your mom got us hot pockets for the sleep over!” Bobby cried.
They both ran off towards Dale’s house. Joseph clumsily looking back at Luanne then disappearing behind his dads minivan. Luanne felt sick again as a result of seeing the dead insect on Dales truck. “He’s gross” she thought as she considered the type of guy who would have that on his truck. Then she turned and walked towards the sliding glass doors. Now sick to her stomach for another reason.

---

The light were on but nobody was in the kitchen. The thought had occurred to her to rip one final cigarette before she went in but at this point was numb and plus Aunt Peggy didn’t want her sneaking cigarettes in the back yard anymore. The numbness was slightly lessened at the thought of Aunt Peggy. Basically Luanne’s mom now she felt close to her but more on a friendship level. She thought Aunt Peggy was one of the most intelligent people in the world even though most of the world thought, while friendly in her own way, she was an over confident windbag. Suddenly Luanne became aware she was standing at the sliding glass door looking into the house but unable to open the door. She was temporarily frozen in time as she neither wanted to go in nor continue to stand there looking like a weirdo. As she began to raise her hand to the door the light went off in the kitchen. Luanne stood there with her hand on the door handle for a few seconds. Then she slowly opened it. There was no risk of creaking or grinding as he kept everything in perfect working order. This thought caused knot to return. She slowly closed the door behind her and locked it. As she walked to the doorway to the living room she could hear Aunt Peggy talking to herself. Something about “fixing something when he should be in bed”. The acute awareness that often goes with sneaking around suddenly fell out of her. Numbness was all that was left. He was awake. In the garage. The sweat returned to her forehead. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to talk to Aunt Peggy in this state so she waited in the dark kitchen until she heard Aunt Peggy in her bedrooms bathroom then slipped into her bedroom. She shut the door and leaned against it. No lock on the door. There used to be one until a few months ago. She started crying quietly. She sat down on her bed and took her shoes off. She had white ankle socks on with pink paws dotted throughout. She peeled off her red shorts and dropped them into her hamper. The white cotton underwear matched her socks. She slipped on Jaime’s Arlen High sweatpants and got under her covers. She felt exhausted from the mental anguish of the past hour. Foolishly she held onto a single hope as she always did at this moment. Laying on her side in her room in his house she hazily stared at the clock on her night stand. Cigarette smoke and winterfresh gum on her breath. The clock read 10:32 PM…

>Part 2<

There was a tap at the window. Luanne cast a hazy look towards the sound.
“Luanne!”
She had not gained focus yet as she slowly rolled to a seated position and rubbed her eyes.
“Luanne! It’s Lucky! Come to the window.”
The voice of her ex-boyfriend somehow filled her with joy. She walked over to the window.
“Luanne… I’m an idiot. I nearly lost the best thing in my life. And for what? A bunch of losers? I need you back, Luanne. Will you come away with me?”

Luanne was filled with warmth and hope. She climbed out the window and into Lucky’s outstretched arms. He ran with her to his 4x4 and shut the door. Luanne was absolutely beaming. She was about to crank up the radio when she noticed the display looked weird. It looked like a digital clock. Slowly but deliberately her dream faded and she returned to reality. She had been looking at her clock. 11:17 PM…

As the hope and joy of her dream melted away it was replaced by the cold dread of her dark bedroom. As her mind made the transition she leaned up. There was light coming from underneath the door way. He was still awake. Luanne sat frozen. Listening for any sound. She thought she could hear something but then realized it was her own heartbeat. Pounding in her chest.

“Calm down, Luanne” she thought to herself. “He just forgot to turn off the light.” She could hope.

As she continued to sit there in silence a lack of any sound had a calming effect. Was she in the clear? The second she allowed her anxiety to relent she heard the garage door open. A cold pall was cast over her. Her only reaction was to silently lay back down and curl up. Her pounding heart the singular focus. As it began to echo in her ears all fell silent when she heard her door open. No sound. No feeling. Only the black of her eyelids. It felt like hours to Luanne before she heard her door close. As she listened to him walk to her bedside the chill turned to the feeling of insects crawling up her back. It was all she could do to not physically brush away the feeling he had draped upon her. Heart pounding again.
He stood at her bedside for a full minute. Looking at his prize. The line of her ample body causing his manhood to press against his jeans. He took one final swig from his Alamo can and put it on her bed table. Luanne heard the jangle of his belt as he removed his pants. As ants on her back were now biting her the knowledge of what was about to happen nearly drove her to vomit. She swallowed hard as he slunk under her blanket and pressed his throbbing dick against her. He wrapped his arms around her stomach and began to grind into her large ass. It was at this time that the cold sweat came and all feeling was gone. If Luanne had a mind she would understand that this was a defense mechanism to help her cope with the extreme nature of her predicament. But alas, she does not. However, what was undeniable was the feeling of nothingness that washed over her. He was now holding her hips as he pressed his penis in-between her legs as best as he could while still clothed. He liked the pressure. After a few minutes, another pressure was too much to bear. He removed his boxers. Slid her sweat pants down to her knees and placed his throttled member in-between the soft upper part of her thick thighs. He could feel the involuntary wetness develop through her white cotton panties as he started to dry hump her. Luanne could smell the mixture of his constant bad breath and stale Alamo beer creep down her face as he began to lick her neck and ear. She began to tear up as his hands moved across her stomach to her breasts. He began to fondle her breasts over the bra. As he kneaded her breasts he began to moan in her ear.

“I love you, Luanne” he stammered out as he continued his assault.

The mixture of precum and pussy juice had become audible with his thrusts. Sensing he was close he slowed down. He ran his hands over her stomach back to her thighs. He rubbed them over then moved one hand down to her pussy. The fact that the whole area was moist filled his entire being with excitement and a warped sense of connection to Luanne. “She is enjoying this” he thought to himself. He gently pushed her to the side as he removed her sweatpants and panties. As he laid back down beside her flat on his back he took a deep whiff of the mess she had made in her panties. The unmistakable smell filled him with carnal lust. He adjusted so that he was sitting with his back to the head board and she was sat in-between his legs facing away.

“Luanne? Luanne… are you awake?” he whispered.
Luanne began to cry. The soft whimpers driving Hank Hill to near sexual insanity. He gathered himself.
“Luanne… hold your arms up.” A request that was always made and never followed.

He removed her shirt unassisted and pulled her towards him so that she was sitting on top of his engorged member. Driving it into her mattress. Softly he draped his hands over the top of her breasts and moved up and down over her bra. Hank liked the last little barrier. Soon it was more than he could take. He pushed her forward slightly and unclasped her bra. He moved the straps off her shoulders but was careful not to let it fall off the front. In one fluid motion, he moved his hands from the top of her breasts down. The bra fell to her lap and he fondled her heavy breasts. His fingers rising one by one as he dragged them over her large puffy nipples. Her whimpers became quiet crying. After a few minutes of groping her chest and kissing her neck one of his hands came up to wipe her tears. Her whole face was covered. This made Hank insatiable. He gently twisted her head to the side and began licking the tears from her cheek. Moved to the other side and cleaned that as well. The stink of his drying saliva altering Luanne’s perception. The salty taste in his mouth was the limit. He pushed her slightly forward at the hips and his dick popped straight up. He spun her around so that she was facing him, put her lifeless arms over his shoulders, and pulled her into him. Her chubby pussy lips were now wrapped around the base of his shaft. The heat from it surprised him. He began to involuntarily grind into her. Luanne was looking down, eyes closed, sobbing. Tears dripping from the bottom of her chin onto her breasts. He placed his hands on the side of her face and pulled up. Her eyes would not meet his.

“Luanne? Uncle Hank loves you. You know that, right?”
Luanne answered with question with more quiet crying.
“Luanne? I don’t want to hurt you. I want to love you. You’ll let me love you, right?”

He did not wait for an answer as his putrid tongue was thrust into her mouth. He began to grunt has his tongue made love to her throat. He had now moved his hands down to her ass cheeks so he could slide her dripping wet cunt up and down his shaft.

“Oh god, Luanne” he stammered as he began to feast on her neck and chin.

It was in this moment that awareness clumsily returned to her. It had never gone this far before. Never this intense. Luanne bravely ventured a quick a look into his eyes and he was not there. They were lifeless. Like a dolls eyes. She had to do something. She had to make a decision. To save the one shred of dignity she had left…

As he was mindlessly grinding her and the pace quickened she whispered, “…Uncle Hank?”

The sound of her whisper somehow shattered through him as he looked up at her.

“Uncle Hank…” she whimpered as she gulped down the putrid mix of his saliva and hers, face breaking out because of all his bacteria.
“…I’ll love you back if you’ll let me, Uncle Hank.”
The statement threw Hank Hill’s mentality for a loop. As he searched for words he noticed her arms slightly tighten behind his neck. It was all he could do to speak.
“How do you want to love me, Luanne?” he asked as he slowly began to grind again.
“Like this…” and with that she began to slowly counter his gyrations.

At this point Luanne stopped crying. Any thought aside from the void caused from being molested by her uncle was a light in the darkness.
Effecting an innocent Texas twang as best she could she asked, “Can we ‘jus rub ‘em together? As she softly but assuredly began to pick up the pace. All in the hope that agreeable vulnerability would calm his carnal lust.

Normally, this is not how Hank Hill operates He needs absolute control. Absolute dominance. But the magnitude of her request had pierced him. Had he finally broken her? These “sessions” have been escalating and getting dangerous. If she had succumbed to him, he had to play his hand right so he didn’t upset the delicate balance.

“Yes, baby. We can.” He answered as he slid down flat on his back.

Luanne wiped her nose with her arm, leaned forward over her uncle so that her heavy breasts were hanging down over him, and began working her hips. Slowly grinding her cunt up and down the length of her uncle’s big dick. Hank Hill had left himself again. Only this time he was in a haze of infatuation. Secure in the fact that he had broken her. She was his. He reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands. Pulled her down slightly and began to suck on her puffy nipples. Popping them as he released her large areolas. As he was tonguing her breasts the sickness returned to Luanne. As with any trauma, being present in the moment invites the pain to come rushing in. She had to end this quickly. She began to roll her wide hips and press down into her uncle’s rock hard erection. Suddenly he stopped sucking her breasts. She cast a quick glance at her uncle and his eyes were closed. He began to gyrate into her deliberately. He grabbed her large warm ass cheeks with his hands and pressed her into him even harder.

Her uncle breathlessly spoke, “Oh baby. Keep loving me.”
His ass was now rising off the bed as his pelvis lifted her with each thrust. So much so that she had fallen forward and they were chest to chest.
“Oh Luanne… oh, God! I’m cumming baby!” he choked out as four ropes of her uncles hot cum forced its way in-between them.

Involuntarily, Luanne rose up off him and the cum began to drop down her stomach. As it began to reach the top of her pussy she cupped in with her hand. She looked at her uncle. His eyes were closed and he had a tired smile on his face. She stayed straddling him. Afraid to move. She silently moved her hand up her stomach to get the rest of her uncle’s sperm off her body and into her hand then wiped it into the comforter. As she did that he looked up at her.

“You’ve made your uncle very happy, Luanne.”

And with that he leaned off her bed. Bent down and put on his jeans. The reality of watching him put on his jeans. The hairy legs and the jangle of the buckle was too much for Luanne. The vomit rushed up her throat and into her mouth. She clenched her lips as tight as she could. Mercifully, her uncle did not look back and silently left her room. Luanne stayed motionless on her knees on the bed. Nose and eyes running from the acidic vomit that had filled her mouth. She listened as she heard the familiar sounds of his “after session” bathroom sounds. As she heard the click of their bedroom door she rushed to the window, threw it open, and let the vomit shoot out of her mouth. Two more rushes after that. When she was done she dropped to her knees and openly wept in the corner of her room. The confusion of what had happened. The absolute disgust at what she did to avoid worse. The panging dread at what she would have to do in the future. All this mental anguish was cascading over her and breaking her soul.

After a few minutes, she got up from the floor. She put on her sweatpants. “Jaime” she thought hazily as the tears rolled down her face. Slunk to the bathroom and showered. Slunk back to her bedroom. Ripped all the blankets and pillows off her bed then laid down in her towel.

As she regained focus she saw the can of Alamo on her night stand. She smashed if off and saw her clock.

12:31 AM.

To be continued.

I'd like to Confess that I spent the last year wanting to believe in a god. I tried, I really did. I researched every religion from Jainism to Christianity to Islam. I visited multitudes of churches, mosques, synagogues, and other places of worship. What did I find? Nothing good I'm afraid... The reality is.....most religions are filled with hateful, deranged control freaks, bent on controlling everyone and everything around them by shoving their version of right and wrong down your throat. I've seen dazzling displays of hypocrisy. I've seen behavior that is downright dangerous and frightening. I've been told that I'm evil or asking questions.

So here's the truth. Religious people are some of the most mentally ill people I have ever met. After this journey I have dropped my political affiliation with the Replicant party,shunned religion in any form and started paying attention to my own inner voice for guidance. I am my own captain, and choose to do the right thing only because it's right. Not because I'm being threatened with punishment.

The Freudian Slip
An erotic, mostly true story (names omitted) of finding the love of my life.

It was my first marriage, but she already had a child when she was a teen. I met her when I was 35, she was 33 and her daughter was 18. She dedicated her life to her daughter and finally when her daughter turned 18, she decided it was time to slow down and find someone special. The honeymoon didn’t last that long in our marriage. I was always ‘too sexual’ for her, always ‘groping her inappropriately’. The final straw was when I found some emails and a text message about how she liked sucking on his dick before he stuck it in her ass. I was a broken man for a long time. I invested myself into my ex-wife 1000%. Her daughter was very beautiful, and I never even once hit on her, or made any moves.
After much therapy, I came out the other end ok. It’s been 15 years and I’m 50 years old now. Sometimes I’ll have anxiety, so I’ll go through my insurance and find a therapist or counselor. My insurance recommended a woman and I called to make an appointment. It took about a week, but the day came and I went to her office and low and behold it was my ex’s daughter (step daughter). She was a bit shocked to see me. She said she saw my name but she was sure it was someone else. She had beautiful long brown hair, nice hourglass figure, brown eyes and soft supple breasts seemingly not strapped in by a bra. She blushed, she knew I was looking.
“It’s been a long long time, dad. What have you been up to? What do you want to talk about today?”
“Well I don’t know how this works, perhaps this is a conflict of interest – because sometimes I think I have PTSD because of what happened between you and your mother. I’ve been ok I guess. Well obviously not perfect, because I’m here…”
“Oh, tell me more…” She said, looking me in the eyes. I shied away, looking down at the floor.
“Don’t be nervous, you can tell me anything.”
“I’ve never been married since your mother left me, I just didn’t want to be hurt again. I feel my life is just bland but I also don’t want to go through the physical and mental pain again.”
“Physical pain?” she asked.
“Depression, when I’m depressed my body aches horribly.”
“Understandable. So I’ll be honest with you, when I moved out and after she did that to you I broke contact with her,” she said still looking at me in the eyes, she smiled, “she ruined her own life to be honest, and she did her best to ruin yours too.”
I looked at her confused, “what do you mean she ruined her life?”
“Take a deep breath, dad.” She laughed, “Can I call you that?”
“Yes, of course. You never got to know your own biological father, so of course you can call me dad.”
“Good, we’re on a Freudian path” she laughed, then continued, “Dad listen, the guy she left you for had her hooked on some bad things. I was away at school and she was smoking meth and crack. The last time I saw her she was at a clinic and had track marks all up and down her legs from heroin usage. You dodged a bullet. She’s tested positive for HIV, and a bunch of STDs – probably from whoring herself out to get drugs. So I couldn’t handle being around her anymore so I cut ties with her. And I found it awful that she did that to you. You were always so nice to her, to me. You expressed your love in so many ways and she shit all over you. I looked up to you, always thinking that when I find a guy or girl that I’d want someone like you. Hell, when my mom met you I had a major crush on you. In a lot of ways I wish you would have kept in contact but I do understand the emotional trauma of what she did pushed you away. I did kind of stalk you, you’re pretty easy to find on Google, so I kept track of you but kept my distance because I didn’t want to remind you of the trauma mom had caused you and me too.”
I didn’t know what to say, it was a lot to take in.
“I just don’t know what to say, that’s horrible what happened to her,” I said, feeling a little bit of peace that the bitch was getting dragged through the sewer like the cunt she was.
She put a hand on mine, “It’s ok dad. You probably feel a lot of rage and anger and that’s why you’re here.”
I looked into her eyes and I melted. She absolutely was putting on the moves.
“Tell you what,” she said, “My last appointment is at 7:30 PM, so why don’t we catch up over some coffee? You’re a coffee drinker, right?”
“Uh, yeah absolutely.”
So I made plans to meet her after she got off at a well-known coffee shop (Starbucks). I was a bit worried that I was taking her kindness wrong, that I was mistaking it for being interested in me.
I got her cell number and left.
On my way to Starbucks she texted me, “What kind of coffee do you want? Already here – I got this round!”
So I texted her I just wanted the house coffee with cream and sugar.
She was sitting at a table with her laptop and I approached her and sat down.
She looked up and smiled, and then gestured around her, “look at all of these nosey people who can’t mind their own business when an attractive looking man sits down near a younger professional female. That’s human psychology, always judging, always making shit up in people’s heads.”
I laughed, “well, they have dirty minds then – forget them. How have you been all these years? You look absolutely stunning, and I’m not saying that out of turn – just letting you know you’ve grown into a very fine woman!”
She blushed, “And how does that line go…” she thought for a second, “you sir, have aged like a fine wine.”
I laughed, “you’re totally hitting on me.”
“I’ve got daddy issues, daddy. Seriously, my mother doesn’t know who she lost. I’ll be honest, I’d take pictures of you and masturbate to them, I had such a huge crush on you. You’d get my panties soaked just by giving me a hug, and well – just being around me, can confirm, you still do.”
My anxiety started to kick in, “is this a joke?”
“Absolutely not. I was so jealous of my mother, I wanted you so bad.”
My dick was getting hard.
“Yeah but you probably have someone special now, and I don’t want you to be unfaithful to them.”
“No, I’ve had a few girlfriends, but nothing serious at all. I’m a single girl enjoying my freedom. I didn’t charge you for the session today. I won’t ever charge you, ok?”
“So you’re a lesbian?” I asked.
“No, I swing both ways,” she laughed and spilled a little bit of her coffee.
“Yeah but I was your father for a few years and …”
“That’s what makes it so hot, you literally are my Freudian sexual fantasy, that step dad that every girl wants to fuck but never gets to fuck and here you are… and well, perhaps this pussy still has a chance?”
I was done talking, I haven’t had sex in years, “It absolutely does.”
We went back to my place, I was nervous as hell.
She unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out, “mom lied, she said you had an ugly little dick – this is a thick monster.”
Her lips wrapped around the head and she started sucking. I felt her open her mouth wider and I was in the back of her throat.
She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled her bra off revealing her beautiful breasts, looking up into my eyes as she continued to suck me.
“Daddy, I want you to be bad….” I pulled my shirt off, she caressed my chest and her lips stopped sucking, and she kissed me on the lips, and then let her tongue work its way back down to my throbbing cock. She pushed me down on the sofa, and started going to town on my dick with a passion I’ve never seen before. With her mouth full of my throbbing meat, she’d moan. I felt like I was going to cum, and pulled her head off of my dick.
“Mmmm, daddy likes my mouth,” she said erotically, “wait until daddy’s dick get’s a taste of his daughter’s tight little pussy…”
“You’re a bad girl,” I whispered to her.
“You have no idea daddy, I’ve been a very bad girl.” She moved her naked body across mine, I could feel her soft warm breasts gliding on my skin. Her mouth enveloped mine, her tongue jutting inside my mouth and I could taste her sweet saliva. Her hips swiveled, teasing the head of my cock with her dripping wet pussy. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Mommy never wanted me to have a dick this good, daddy,” she said as she pushed down on my cock, taking all of me inside her wet, tight hole.
“Make me a good girl, daddy I’ve been so fucking bad!”
I smacked her ass with my hand hard, “Watch your mouth, you know better than to swear around me!”
“Oh yess daddy! I’m so sorry daddy, it’s just that your dick feels so fucking good in me.”
I spanked her again, even harder as her pussy massaged my cock. I grabbed her beautiful tits and licked her nipples. I felt her body tense up, her pussy locked on to my cock – all of her muscles tightened and she let out a scream and began bucking wildly.
“Oh fuck daddy, daddddy your cock is so good I’m cumming.”
I felt a flow of warmth dripping down my balls as she collapsed on top of me.
I held her tightly and kissed her forehead as she panted, I could feel her pussy muscles convulsing in pleasure around my hard dick.
She whispered, “daddy, I always wanted to taste your cum…”
She got up and knelt between my legs and started stroking my cock, then licking it with her tongue.
Her lips gently kissed the tip of my penis, and then she swallowed it. I could feel my balls tightening up, and she cupped them in one hand and stroked my cock with the other as she blew me.
I called her name, “I’m going to cum.”
She didn’t relent, she quickened her pace, sucking harder, stroking faster. I emptied my balls in her mouth. Pulsating over and over, cum sprayed into her warm wanting mouth. I could feel her gulping down each ejaculation as I lost complete control of my body. I grabbed her head and pulled her lips down to the base of my cock and kept coming in the back of her throat. She swallowed it all.
We decided to date, and after a few years we tied the knot. Some people might be wondering about the legalities, but I never legally adopted her. My ex-wife and I were only married for about 3 years. My “stepdaughter” moved out when she was 19, almost 20 – but she always treated me with respect and we were pretty good friends. The last we heard, my ex moved to another state, and she might have passed on from a drug overdose. Neither my new wife, nor I want to research it or find out. I guess that's what prompted me to write it on Motherless. She's Motherless - and has been for a long time it seems.
Anyhow: That’s how I met my second wife. We have a lot of fun, and we’re extremely in love and she’s pregnant now. She’s due in 3 months! Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes you have to walk through fire – but understand that things will eventually get better, it just might take some time.
No, that picture isn’t her – I chose it because it looks like her (so much so that it could be her twin lol).
We still do daddy daughter role playing! I’m also ok with her having some fun with women if she wants but she chooses not to.
“You fulfill my fantasies, daddy.”
Real? Fake? I don't really care if anyone believes it - I just needed to vent.
Peace.

Hope you enjoy making less than 300 a month between the two of you discipline and chaos. You fucking fakes. You phonies. You fucking tourists. Enjoy beating the shit out of eachother and cutting one another. Seems like a mentally healthy thing to do. You should definately have control over what goes on here at this site. All I can say is fuck this place if a 2 bit cam jockey like you has any say or anything. With that I bid you farewell you sad, sad fucks. I hope whoever molested you as kids and made your sexuality so fucked up is still around. Hope you have to see them on a daily basis and not be able to do anything about it.