is beach bomber a sweat skin

“Jim, can I see you for a minute before you go?” My heart sank. When everybody had left, Carol closed the door and faced me with a stern look. What’s the matter Jim? You look like your puppy just died.”“I just feel bad about what I did to you. You know, your bum and everything. I hope you’re not mad.” Carol burst out laughing.

Fireworks were shooting off in her head now and her womanly instincts were in auto pilot now, and it didn’t seem to matter that her father was the target. Her right hand came up to his cock and pulled it towards her, making it easier on her neck to reach. Her left hand came up from the bed and rested on his waist, a much firmer purchase to steady herself. She spread her legs wider on the bed, her panties dripping with her own secretions smeared on her father’s knee.

“Good boy, Brucie! Good boy!” I encouraged him, ruffling his neck. “Mommy's turn this time!” And with a tongue-lolling doggie grin, he finally made his move, jumping up onto Mom's back and starting to thrust himself at her. She gasped in some combination of surprise, doubt, and fear, and I took her hand in mine, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Try to get a little lower, if you can,” I advised her. “If you let him get all four paws on the ground he'll be way less likely to scratch you with his claws. It'll feel better, too, if you give him more leverage for thrusting.” She did as I said, lowering her hips and pressing those huge, hanging tits firmly into the carpet, her eyes clenched closed as she waited for it to happen. Bruce was having a little trouble finding his mark, as he always did, so I reached in under her with my other hand and spread her thick, meaty lips with my fingers. That got it done, her eyes popping wide as that hot doggie cock finally slid inside. His claws scratched at the carpet as he tried to reposition himself, giving himself one more deep, forceful drive into her depths.