”He looked over at her, and then down at the two children between them.“She’s a photographer,” he said simply.“Yeah, and you must be too,”...said Misty, thinking about the picture of Christy.He smiled for some reason, and Misty felt anger trying to wiggle its way into her chest. She somehow knew that he wasn’t going to give her any information about those pictures.“She showed me how to work the camera,” he said. “That’s all.”“I thought maybe she was one of your sisters, at first ... when we first. If one fucking drop hits the floor I’ll bend you back over this fucking toilet and fuck you in the ass right now. So you better swallow all of it!”As I watched her swallow I was surprised to see her actually lick her lips. I reached over and grabbed some toilet paper and threw it at her and told her to clean my cock off. She carefully folded the toilet paper to wipe a few lasting drips of cum and before she could wipe them I told her, “No, lick it off you fucking slut” which she eagerly. There were teeth marks on them. Apparently the anonymous hands had been joined by an anonymous mouth.And then the hands were back at the holes, snapping their fingers, impatient for Samantha’s hurt tits. Instantly, again without hesitation, Samantha went flush up against the cum stained wood wall with her naked body and stuck her battered and bitten tits through the holes. She wanted more, and she wanted it all.The anonymous hands and mouth seemed to deliver as Samantha quivered with pain. She. I was shaking so badly I nearly dropped my jug when she gave it to me. As I stood holding it, she came close in front of me, put her hand in my jug, dipped her fingers in the horse semen inside, wiped them over my face, then dipped again and this time she made me lick her fingers clean.Walking into the farm house, we found that the men were starting to appear for breakfast. I wondered if the men could tell what we had been doing. She hadn't let me wipe my mouth or my face, and I was sure they.