And to fuck me hard and good. I could have found me someone. I'm not a goddess, but I'm attractive. I'm fun, and, even better, I love to fuck. I knew ...omen who love to fuck have no trouble finding someone to fuck - so why obsess about making my father fuck me? Because it was the nastiest, most luscious thing I could think of. Once my father had looked at my ass and pussy and didn't look away, my pussy got wetter than it had ever gotten before and I liked it. I wanted more. I was even more. “Don’t start crying now, Whore. We are just starting.” “No! No! What do you want?”He let go of my ankle, eyed me like a hungry wolf as he sat down and touched the front of his pants.“I want you to be a good whore. Get on all fours.” I tried to back away but he was too fast. Before I could scream he had me in his lap. A blinding pain exploded up my whole body. His heavy hand landed again on my bare ass. I scream for him to stop but he hit me hard. Then rubbed his hand over the spot he just. -----------Martin wasn't a bad boss. In fact, as far as bosses went heranked up at the top. He was considerate and compassionate. Hegot the job done but he also took time to consider those whoworked for him. He only had one flaw. He was male.Well, that wouldn't be a problem much longer, thought Julie asshe fixed Martin's coffee. After three months of the specialhormone mix that Julie added to his coffee the effects werebecoming very obvious. Julie smiled as she added the prescribeddosage and. I had told my men that I wanted to play a nasty joke on the Comanches if we could, and they all agreed that it would be great fun if we could make it work. By phrasing it as a nasty trick played on an enemy, I was able to convince the men to shoot at the horses, not at the riders. I figured that one of the Comanches might survive if we did it that way, and he could take word back to his people that we were not to be trifled with. If not, we would just go looking for another bunch to try our.