I hardly noticed that as I looked down from my first floor window and watched the passing traffic in it's never changing pattern of stopping and going... regulated by the pedestrian traffic light just forty yards down the road. I looked at the occupants of the cars and trucks and wondered about their thoughts and their destinations.With a sigh, I reached for the shirt on top of the pile of laundry that waited to be ironed and folded, then I saw her. Traffic had come to a halt again at the red. He could accurately depict the decay, but no prince would hang rotten apples on the wall of his palace. The same is true of the modern photographer, but our brush-wielding Italian is at a distinct advantage. If he wishes to paint an apple but has only a rotten one, he can choose to paint red where he sees brown, firmness where he sees softness, freshness where he sees decay. In the studio, the photographer has no such luxury. He must choose his model with great care, for no amount of lighting. Mike thrust his hips up, fucking his daughter's mouth with his hard cock. He loved the fact that his own, lovely daughter was sucking his prick, and obviously enjoying it so much.Lani whimpered as her father rode his heavy shaft into her face. Her mouth was stretched out as widely as possible, and the man was nearly choking her with his lunges, but she didn't try to pull away. She only whimpered and moaned with excitement and lust.Mike thought that he had never seen Lani look so beautiful.. When he removed his cock from me, he said "Do not wash inside. You will feel my seed for days as it works it's way out of you You will remember what it was like to be truly fucked." I nodded my agreement. "You know who I am?" Yes I know," I said."Is there anything you want," he asked."To never see you again," I said."You don't mean that, but as you wish," he said.I staggered back to the dock and then to my truck. I was a total wreck both physically and mentally. My body was betraying me, but it.