I knew why he did it, though. He was hard and he was big, and I could feel it pressing against my buttocks as he held me in his lap. I looked plaintiv...ly over at my stepfather, but he just gave me a little smile. He moved me back and forth on it. If we weren’t wearing clothes, he’d be fucking me.It became even more intimate. Senhor Nuncio moved a hand under me, between us, and unzipped himself. He flared his trouser fly and there were only the thinness of my shorts and briefs material between. Was she squirting? Her legs felt wet, but all she could feel was the pry of his fingers in her cunt, on her pulsing, puckered asshole, and the bliss of her climax.She was gasping. She was coming down. She had no idea how long her orgasm had lasted. Her mind started to race as it recovered from what he had done to her—how he’d made her his molested bitch. She shame of it made her body hot. He was keeping her pressed against the glass. But then her mind rang again. How many stops had it been. We hadn't seen San Diego itself but the ocean side areas. We came to the end of the point at Cabreillo National Monument and slowly came around it intending to explore the area some. We entered the bay and saw smoke in the distance. To both our left and right had been Naval bases. I remembered San Diego as a great naval base where many Navy ships had been moored. To some extent, that was still true though a hundred years without maintenance had not been kind to them. We were motoring gently. Alessandra's cheeks grew hot as her body responded to the touch of her fingers and the overwhelming need growing deep within her. She had no idea if she was doing it right, but it certainly felt right.Her knees gave way as she watched Jessica's body arching off the recliner, her face grimacing with pleasure as her orgasm hit. Letting her panties settle on her hips, Alessandra's fingers moved more urgently, poking and probing at different areas between her legs. She jumped as she finally found.