The shirt, her father's, was far too big for him. So baggy she could unbutton it without touching him. Easily.She wiped her hands on her dress. They l...ft smudges on the flowing lavender material. Her prettiest dress. She had made it herself.She was right. The flannel fell away from his skin after she peeled back the blanket and went to work on the buttons. She had never seen a man's body before (her father and her brother didn't count, of course).Nor had she ever seen anything like the. She didn't need the money she was just in it for the good fucking she got.After a while I was feeling a bit left out as she seemed to getting more action than I was out in the field, so I'd take her along to local dogging meets. She would dress as a slut with a denim jacket over a check shirt and a black leather mini skirt over torn fishnet stockings and white trainers on her feet. She never wore a bra or knickers cos she liked to flash her nipples and her cunt when we were out and about. Sure enough, I gently manoeuvre myself in Marks ass, and it sends me over – I move as gently as I can, all the while trying to satisfy the itch that has overtaken me. I am laughing again – my cock is all too sensitive, but again, still hard. I want more. Once I recover, I gently move my cock in and out, working Mark’s ass around my cock, he moans gently. “You OK?” I ask. “Oh yeah” he replies, “you?”. “Fuck yeah” I reply. I allow Mark’s ass get used to my cock, as I gently move in and out, I. He continued to ignore me that night and when I went in to see what he was doing I saw that he was chatting on line. Then he went to bed without kissing me or giving me a hug. It was the first time I could remember him never doing either. I knew I was in trouble.In the morning, just before he left for work he said, "There's an e-mail on my computer for you. Please read it."My father gave me a kiss then walked out to door for work.After I finally woke up and had breakfast I read the e-mail. The.