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“We’re going to need some of this,” she said, unscrewing the cap. “Lubrication,” she said with a smile, seeing the confused look on my face. She poured a generous handful of oil and slathered it onto my shaft and my balls. She spied the label as she set the bottle down. “Hmm…extra virgin. That’s the only thing in this house tonight that is virgin anything.” I laughed nervously. I remember now my clueless mom never figured out why her bottle of olive oil kept appearing in my bathroom.

“Yeah maybe.” My spent cock slid out of Carol’s ass with a wet pop, followed by a creamy gush of my cum. I flopped onto the sofa. Carol plopped down beside me, an instant wet spot started oozing onto the leather cushion. “Should I get a towel or something? That’s quite the mess.”“I’ll lick it up before I go to bed. Or not. Don’t care. I’ll flip the cushion before my husband gets home.”“You never did that before?” I asked.

That Saturday passed like a blur as Sarah did her social duties with her friends, but in the back of her mind her guilt was steadily building. What she had done last night was not okay. But it was a moment of weakness, a mistake of her youth, so with one and done there wouldn’t be a problem, right? Her night’s rest seemed to disagree. Six times she woke that night, each time with the desire to visit her father again, but she managed to persevere. She had to watch her video from last night a few times before her lust could be controlled, but she got through the night, minus quite a few hours of sleep as a cost.