Dad had paid for us all to have three tubes of paintballs, thinking that would be enough to last the games we would play. After the first game I had a...ready used up a full tube already, I don’t think Dad or Alex were far behind.When it came to our turn to attack, we tried to be more tactical than the red team had been, sending some to the left, our four went right, and the remainder would hit straight on. We had much better success than the red team did, while the head on team got spotted and. The words escaped me in a swift rush, since as soon as I was done speaking, I inhaled sharply. “You’re too deep,” I thought bitterly. I didn’t know it at the time, but his erection was prodding my cervix. It must have been instinct for him to try and reach the one spot that would maximize the odds of a successful breeding.“Breeding”? I thought to myself. Was that really what I wanted, to get bred like some farm animal by my own father? It was a surreal fantasy, and yet, it could become reality.. That was part of the weirdest of the Presidential ceremonies, the signing ceremony. I had to sign the bill, but nowhere was it specified whether I did it with a pen or pencil or even a goose feather quill. For almost a century and a half, Presidents were content to simply sign the bill and be done with it. FDR decided to spice things up, by using more than one pen and giving them to supporters. The worst was LBJ, who when signing the Civil Rights Act used 75 different pens to sign the bill. It. She just mumbled and slowly got off the couch with my help. I slid my arm around her to help her walk and rubbed the sides of her breast while she walked in front of me. As we walked up the stairs, I grinded my hard cock against her ass through her yoga pants as we went up. I felt her push back and grind herself a little. I got her to her bedroom, and helped her lay down. I cupped her tits and squeezed them a little and trickled my hand between her legs and felt the heat of her clothed pussy on.