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" "Nothing." "Then let me read it." "Drop it." Drew glared at his daughter. You're lucky you're not in jail." "People make mistakes." Vanessa took a long swallow of her IPA. He could see the bottom of her firm, right butt cheek curving out from the underside of her leg band. It had to be Gemma—she would be thin forever—but Vanessa had to work off anything she ate the next day. She had folded half the pages against the front cover, which meant she had been reading the steamy passages all by her lonesome. "We're all alone." "Interesting." "Finally alone." "And why do we need to be alone? There was a second, empty glass of wine on the table, and he filled it from the bottle standing next to it. She tasted warm, like a fresh-baked desert and her scent brought his senses to life. Lick me, oh, fucking lick that wet hole." Drew slid two fingers into his wife's lovely twat, her narrow channel squeezing his pumping digits with a snug, velvet hug.
"I mean it." "You spend more time with that journal than . "I've got my license back." "Get a job and buy a car. The rage radiating from her attractive features added a hint of danger to her beauty. Her body was akin to the fabled Midwest farm girls men dreamt about in secret, but she liked the slimmer look. "I love your pussy," Drew groaned into his wife's twat, his words wet and distorted as he feasted on her pink softness. Slippery juices dripped over his fingers, making it easier to twist and turn them through her buttery channel.
"I told you: I haven't seen it," Gemma yelled back from the kitchen.
"Fuck." He jogged upstairs two steps at a time, using the twin banisters to propel him upward so he could take three. "No," Vanessa said, shaking her head side-to-side with short, quick movements.
I was reading and playing and wishing you'd come home before I was forced to fuck that bottle of wine." She pouted.
The hallway split at the second-floor landing, and he could see the light peaking from underneath his daughter's bedroom door. You'd know that if you paid attention to me." "I'm not going to reward you for doing what you're supposed to be doing." Drew frowned. He didn't know why the words wouldn't leave his mouth. It pointed straight at her tender slash, hungry and hard and eager to fuck. He could feel his daughter's eyes on him, making him uncomfortable. Vanessa had been a cheerleader and colleges had recruited her, but she had declined all the offers given to her. "The cheerleaders wear more clothing than you." He hadn't known he was going to say that, it just came out. They didn't talk for long, but it was long enough to keep Drew from spending a few hundred dollars on eighteen-year-old webcam pussy. We haven't been there in years." Drew drank his wine. Didn't we agree to this when I almost fell into Niagara Falls? "You can't keep doing this." He tried to look away. He dropped to his knees, setting his glass down as he shuffled between her legs, pressing his lips against the softer, inside flesh of her thighs, kissing upward toward the pink center he could never refuse. "Come lick this tasty treat I have for you." Drew grabbed his wife's waist, pulling her pussy to the edge of the chair.He stopped outside Vanessa's door and knocked—hard. If she didn't always lock her door, he would have stormed in. The door cracked open as Vanessa leaned her head out.