Then dad said to me, “Get out of those clothes you are wearing and give them to me! Including all of your jewelry! You will find acceptably earrings...in your desk drawer!”At least he politely left the room and waited out in the hall for me to change. I started to cry as reality had set in. I had definitely crossed the line and not for the first time either. This was like jail. I undressed and threw my clothes out the door. I’d be damned if I’d fold them neatly and hand them to him. Then I lay on. Inside me," she panted, the need in her voice obvious. My own need had become more than I could ignore as well and so I left her sweet tender breasts momentarily. Then as she raised herself up off the bed a bit, I took hold of her tiny but meddlesome panties and slid them down over her hips, down her long legs, and tossed them next to the clothes on the floor. Now free of all encumbrances, she laid back and spread her legs, opening herself to me. Looking at the slick slit before me I watched. She had these zen philosophies, about being chill and happy and letting things slide off you like water off a duck’s back or something equally stupid. I wasn’t like that. My brother said I had a temper, but I was just simply no one’s doormat. Before working at this coffee shop that my parents decided to open a few months ago, I had been secretly working as a barista. With a fake ID, but that was not what mattered now. What mattered was that I had long since learned how to deal with touchy men,. Margaret began whimpering and moaning at being treated like a whore. Matata then stepped up to take his turn with her. He got his cock into her pussy with no fuss and pounded away. She struggled not to cum, but she was getting close. He fucked her real good, but didn’t cum. Then he grunted and roared as he ejaculated in her hot pussy. Before she had to clean his cock Margaret looked back and another black man was standing behind her ass - a very tall Maasi warrior type - who sported a long.