I was his girl from Inglewood. Now I was a bitter, old, overweight nagging wife. I lay on our marital bed and I touched myself. I was wet and I could...feel my clit pulsating. I breathed slowly and heavily as I gently stroked my clit. It felt so good to feel sexual pleasure. It had been a long time since I had touched myself and months since my encounters with Jean Paul. I inserted a finger inside myself and then put it into my mouth. I tasted sweet and my white juices sent electricity through. She scooped out some of the jizz from there. I slammed my pussy down Daddy's cock. My clit rubbed into his wiry pubic hair. His bush tickled my labia, sending such wicked delight through my body.“Yes, yes, I love your cock, Daddy!” I howled at the top of my voice, the bed creaking as I raised myself up his cock again. My thighs flexed as I rode him, my breasts heaving. “It's the best.”“Yes, it is,” Mommy groaned. Her tongue lapped up more cum, savoring it. Then she rose, jizz on her lips, and. More

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