#334976 - It was three evenings later, allowing chaste time for the girls to get anxious and for their daddy to replenish, a day for each daughter. After enough of this, Bridget thought her father’d put his fist between her buns, until she felt him affix his hands – both hands – to her hips while the force in question remained in place. A last clipped shout from her, and a brief, trembling silence – Bridget plainly doggy-style and her father square behind her, George well ploughing as he had her mom in the home video – then crazed hollers & squalls, Bridget baying to her sisters for help, that she couldn’t take it though he’d delivered to her by then already another dozen in as many seconds, the first fast moments of 20 more minutes the whole of which she’d remember as individual strokes: pack-slap, pack-slap – her buns shaken in short, jarring waves and as hard a ride as she would ever know, Gretchen and Eleanor witnessing this power-sodomy of their sister as as well their own fate.

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Keiko ayano

Very cool

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