bodil40

The thought popped into her mind that she should probably pull away and that sneaking into her dad’s bed and smelling him was already a bit off. But her mind was already beginning to ask some more questions.Did it look like mine?How much hair does he have?What does it look like?What does it feel like to rub my fingers through it?What does it smell like?

“Thanks, Mom!” I purred, kissing her on her lips. She tried to resist, but only for a second or two before she gave in and started kissing me back. It felt so different, kissing her instead of Daddy! She was softer, more gentle. I liked it... maybe not quite as much as I did Daddy's more forceful style, but still, it felt really good! I kinda regretted it, actually, when I had to pull away, but she deserved to be taken care of, too. I detoured to her breasts on the way down, sucking hungrily on her thick, erect nipples, making her gasp. She moaned, arching her back and running her fingers through my hair, pulling me tighter into her soft, yielding flesh. I couldn't help but giggle at her reaction, and to give her a few teasing little nibbles as well. I wondered, with her titties and nipples both being so much bigger than mine, if that meant they were more sensitive as well? It wasn't something I could directly test, but it sure seemed that way. Then I moved down again, and though her eyes were wide and she was nervously biting her lip, she opened her thighs eagerly enough. I made myself go slow, teasing and exploring, savouring my first ever experience with a pussy other than my own. She tasted good, just like I did, only maybe a little more concentrated and strong. That was probably just because I could only taste myself on my fingers or Daddy's cock, I figured, never directly from the source. I started getting more into it, kissing and sucking, flicking and playing with her lips with the tip of my tongue. She was quite a bit meatier than I was, which I kinda liked; it meant I could really pull and nibble on them, which she really seemed to love.

I ran from my guilt, immersing myself deeper in Galvin’s lies, telling myself that my power protected me from all accountability. The things he did were even worse, the things he did to women, but he was so sure that it was his right, that any wrongdoing could be dismissed, and I wanted that assuredness. I wanted to never have to worry about what I was doing, to never doubt or question myself, because as long as I thought what I did was right, I wouldn’t have to fear failure or be afraid of making mistakes. But that was the true mistake, my greatest failure, and so many people suffered for it.”