is sugar swan cookie good

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.

“Here, let me show you something. Give me your finger.” Carol sat up, slid a finger inside her pussy and took my finger with her other hand. She guided my finger inside her and touched what I later learned was called the G-spot. “Rub right here, finger me here while you eat my pussy. I’ll cum for sure.” She smiled at me and pecked me on the cheek. “I’m so glad that you want to learn how to do all this. Your girlfriends of the future will thank me.”

Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.