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Dad licking daughters friends pussy

Dad licking daughters friends pussy

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Trending Articles. He told me what He had gotten fixed, but I zoned out at all of the medical terms He had spewed at me. Daddy pulled my hair, and forced me to look up at Him. Feiends at home with my mother, I would crawl into her bed to sleep at night. I was 6. In my neighborhood, a small group of us kids used to expose our genitals to each other, but only I let one of the boys try to put his penis in me. He Asian full of cum he would really sort Claire out and this would never happen lickimg. Tell your friends. Booze, daguhters, holidays He will Dad licking daughters friends pussy first, we often joke. I pulled Jo close to my hip. I just had to tell someone.

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  • Moderator: Snaga.
  • According to a Citi FM report, the teenager said her father with whom she lives at Denu in the Volta region claimed the apparent sexual assault was a ritual meant to make him maintain his job.
  • Josephine sleeps cocooned in our comforter.
  • There is nothing sweeter than the bond between a father and a daughter.

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Copyright - 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. On the hospital bed, I lash at myself for my good choice at twenty, again, as I have so many times, in secret. Then He ushered me away from the kitchen, and into the living room. The seatbelt signs were on. One was 11, one was 9. We'd talk, Chris and "Susan," and he'd drink.

Dad licking daughters friends pussy

Dad licking daughters friends pussy

Dad licking daughters friends pussy

Dad licking daughters friends pussy. Legal Ownership

It happened a few days ago. Daddy had come home from the hospital. He had just had surgery on His right shoulder to correct it. He told me what He had gotten fixed, but I zoned out at all of the medical terms He had spewed at me. All I got was that there was a ball out, and that it had to be returned to the socket, whatever that means. He had been bed-ridden this whole time, with nothing but the T.

At the same time, spring break had started. I wanted to do normal things high school girls my age did: go to the mall, hang out with friends, go to the movies then talk about boys, etcetera. Daddy wanted me to stay by His side so that I could take care of Him. During this time, my mom was out of town for some psychiatric conference. She was always out of town, so I was used to this.

I was used to it. But I hated it. It meant being alone with Him. Thinking back to that occurrence, I feel my stomach churning, and bile rising up my throat. Sadly, I also felt the core in between my legs tingling. It angers and shames me to think about it…but I know I have to finish this. It was night, and I was making dinner for Daddy and myself. Nothing fancy, just something simple and out of the freezer. I was standing in the kitchen over the stove, stirring up some Bertolli pasta dinner, when I heard footsteps.

It sounded clumsy, and I knew He was coming. Daddy looked a frightful mess. He was topless, only wearing a black, blue, and red checkered pajama pants. I looked back down on the pasta I was cooking.

The ice particles were starting to melt. It just needed to be covered and simmer for about ten minutes. I walked over to the dish washer, and bent over to pick up the lid for the frying pan. I then covered the pasta, and reduced the heat to medium-low. Afterwards, I walked over to my Daddy to see if I could make Him feel better. With Him being in this condition, I figured He should be safe.

Or so I believed… I walked over to Him, and sat down next to Him on the dinner table. With my left hand, I caressed the side of His cheek, along with His strong jaw line. Daddy was a very handsome man. I could see how my mother fell in love with Him. He used to be so kind and gentle. He would never have been able to hurt even a bee. Looking at Him now, I missed the kind of man He used to be, and out of nowhere a memory popped up.

I was about five years old. I ran to my Daddy. He carried me, and assured me that one day, boys like that will be chasing me to play with them. After I had calmed down, He carried me over to the piano, and played something while keeping me encapsulated in His arms. As He played, I drifted off to sleep. After time had passed, He carried me to my room, and tucked me into bed.

He kissed my forehead, and told me that I was His favorite little girl, and that He would always love me, even if boys made me cry. Looking at Him from the dinner table, I felt pain envelop my heart. I miss the man who once promised that He would love me even if boys made me cry. I missed my Daddy. Thinking of the man who disappeared only to be replaced by this monster brought tears in my eyes.

I dropped my hand from His face, stood up, and walked over to the stove. I increased the heat to medium, and placed the lid back on.

As I stepped back away from the stove, I bumped into something behind me. I looked up, and saw a look in His eyes that I had seen only twice before. Startled, I looked away, and held my hand over my chest to calm the beating of my surprised heart. Daddy then placed a finger underneath my chin, and urged me to look up into His eyes.

It was The Look. That look frightened me. It was as if He was on the hunt, and He had caught His prey. I wanted to move away, but I knew that if I backed away from Him, I would end up burning myself from the stove. So I stood still, and stared back into His eyes. Cold chills ran up and down my spine. It was going to happen again, and I knew it.

This is hard for me to admit, but a part of me wanted it to happen. Daddy pulled my face towards His, and kissed me. It was hungry, lustful, and primal. He forced my mouth open to receive His tongue. I wanted to fight Him, but my body responded to His touch. The moment His tongue touched mine, I melted in His arms. Daddy took His hand away from under my chin, and wrapped it around my waist. He held me steady as His tongue darted in and out of my mouth, slowly twisting and dancing with my tongue.

This was wrong, and I knew it in my mind. My Daddy had raped me, and stole my virginity, and He was going to defile me again tonight! But for whatever reason, all common sense left me as His tongue ravaged my mouth. I stood there as limp as a raggedy doll, only being held up by His good arm.

I felt so ashamed of how I was feeling, and how warm my body had gotten from just a simple kiss from Him. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. But I kept silent. A thought occurred to me at that moment; maybe if I was good, then He would stop. Daddy pulled me away from the stove, and turned off the burner that was heating our dinner. I started to protest, but Daddy just shushed me. Then He ushered me away from the kitchen, and into the living room. He led me to the larger couch, and shoved me hard.

Feeling slightly winded from being pushed to the couch, I looked up at Him pleadingly. I looked up in His eyes, and saw something frightening. The man who loved and cherished me was gone, replaced by this evil entity standing in front of me. My gaze started to travel southward, to His chest, then His strong stomach, and finally rested on His crotch.

Daddy was hard. I knew at that point that there was no turning back now. I will just do whatever He wants me to do. Daddy grabbed me hard by the hair, and shoved my face in His crotch. He was already hard. His pajama pants were thin and flimsy, so His erection was easily decipherable.

I pulled His pants down, and looked at it. It was big, long and thick. There was no use fighting it. I opened my mouth, and Daddy shoved His member down my throat, gagging me.

The tears I had been hiding sprang forth as His cock slid down my throat. I pushed Him away, and He held my head tighter. Daddy pulled my hair, and forced me to look up at Him.

I nodded in submissive compliance, and did as He instructed. I relaxed my throat, giving Him full access as He fucked my mouth. Slightly confused, I looked up at Him. Daddy then said that I should pretend that I was eating a lollipop, or a Popsicle. So then, I started sucking. As if my life depended on it.

Daddy must have liked what I was doing, because His hand that was tangled through my hair loosened up, and His head was arched back. It was smooth and hard and the same time. His taste and smell intoxicated me. Watching Him enjoy what I was doing was making me throb.

I wanted my Daddy happy, and I wanted Him to love me again. So I continued. After a few minutes, He pulled my head away from His cock. I looked up at Him with tears running down my face. He bent over to give me a slight peck on my mouth, then ordered me to take off all of my clothes. So I took off my oversized t-shirt, and then pulled off my boy shorts. My body was still small.

I tensed up, anticipating pain. I was surprised when pleasure I had never felt before took over my body. It felt so wonderful! My body wanted it.

Soon, Daddy started to push inside me with His cock. Although it hurt, this time the pain was bearable. She places her cheek against my bare breast. Blood pools beneath my skin; my belly is black. Snorkels poked like reeds through the surface of the water. At three Josephine has already seen the Mediterranean, Pacific, and Gulf. I grew up on a North Carolina military base near the steel-blue Atlantic.

Mom waitressed the dinner shift. Sometimes, during lunch, she drove me and my twin sister Cara to Emerald Isle. But once we were there, Mom always fell asleep on a blanket lain over the sand. Mom slept like the dead. While Mom slept, Cara and I spied long-legged sandpipers, clear rubbery jellyfish, and tiny pearl-shelled clams that fought the tide by digging underground.

Once I swear to God we found a human bone, a sun-bleached spine buried deep in a dune. I desired the exotic: sea cucumbers, starfish, Yellow Tangs. I wanted a mother awake enough to show me. My twin sister was all I had.

Josephine and I turned our backs on the Pacific and waved to Daddy. With my arm up, my hand numbed. My pinkie and index finger tingled until there was no sensation.

She leaned too close to the water, her nose nearly touching it. Her eyes moved back and forth, tracking a school of silver-bodied fish. Daddy sat in a nylon chair, hundreds of feet away, hiding from the sun beneath a beach umbrella.

Tony is prone to sunburn, and probably to melanoma. He will die first, we often joke. His moles have jagged edges. He scarfs pork ribs, gulps beer, and eats ice cream straight from the container.

Yes, I married a Marine, too. I eat kale. I take vitamins. The fish? Her hair is long, blondish, curly, and snarled. Dorothy, our neighbor in Santa Monica, had recently disappeared. We keep an avalanche of Jo's hand-me-downs in the corner opposite his desk, beside the bicycles. She wore a kilt and comfortable wedged shoes ruined at the toes from dragging them.

Her nude knee stockings rolled down to her ankles. Vanishing is common in California. People go broke and pack up in the dark of night. Jo submerged her hand in a tide pool. She closed her eyes, felt around for fish. She smiled, grabbing hold of one that slipped beyond her grasp.

A real pet. A purple starfish stretched over algae-covered driftwood. A tiny shell skittered by. Jo picked up the hermit crab. She flipped it over. Its legs scurried against air. She pulls no punches. Right after Cara and I were born, Mom had her tubes tied, right on the cesarean birthing table. At twenty-three, and after years of Dad hitting her, two was enough.

Two was the punch line. When we were just older than Jo, Cara and I played a game. It was called: Off With the Dingoes. First, the dingoes ate all the boys. We had fun pretending the other had vanished. I pulled Jo close to my hip. She rested her head against it. Waves crashed the reef with the sound of radio static. I lifted her by one arm, a move she likes. She swerved out legs first, my daredevil, her laugh a howl.

From my place on the bathroom floor, I bleed out, my girl tucked into my arms. She nods. Tony lifts me into his arms and carries me to the car. Josephine quickly dressed. She wears a pink gown and tiara, and buckles herself into her car seat. I gather the strength to run from the car into the hospital. In the ER, my bed is there, behind a pleated, pale-blue curtain. My head dangles over his elbow.

His heart drums against my side. That beating. Five years of hearing his heart go: after we make love and immediately fall asleep, or fight so shamelessly about the bills or our former lovers that our neighbors close their windows. I slip backward, into a place that is quiet and dark. I live far within, like a whisper in a loud room.

Nurses rush around the bed. Morphine pushes in. It enters my veins cold. I drift and drift from drug. He tells me the next decade of my life will be about children. Three months later, I was accidentally pregnant. My mother knew what to do. She forced me into a clinic. On the hospital bed, I lash at myself for my good choice at twenty, again, as I have so many times, in secret. I think: God is punishing me. I have done this to myself.

I have broken my body. A doctor asks me to scoot down. He places my feet in the stirrups, opens my legs. He pushes his gloved fingers inside of me. He kneads my belly like dough. He finishes his exam and pulls a recorder from his pocket, taking notes for my file. I blame California. This is a problem of geography. A year ago, we moved from Brooklyn; there was hope for a good life here. God-light shone over Los Angeles. The musky smell of eucalyptus everywhere.

At the farmers' markets, strawberries fragrant as perfume, dirt-covered garlic fresh from the ground, blueberries black enough to eat. But soon, I stopped noticing, a thing Californians do.

They take fair weather for granted.

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Dad licking daughters friends pussy

Dad licking daughters friends pussy

Dad licking daughters friends pussy