Since when had I started wanting my daddy to touch me? It didn’t really matter though. Every girl has fantasies about her dad right? So, I decided t... just go with it. I began picturing my dad, all 6’3’’ of him. He’s in shape and toned without being ridiculously ripped. He’s always had thick, dark, brown hair that I’ve always just wanted to run my fingers through. Before I know it I’m soaking the bed underneath me and screaming my orgasm, all while thinking of my dad. As I’m coming down from. Dark shavings fall onto her thighs and between her legs. I brush them away dutifully, as I work, my fingers lingering longer perhaps than needs be. Stroke by stroke, she is slowly revealed to me. I see her brown skin peeking through, no longer hidden behind the luxuriant growth that kept her sex secret. I am delighted to find that her mons is plump and full. Her clit hangs between her parted labia like a strange fruit that I feel compelled to pick with my tongue. I resist, even though my cock. The new Kennedy was even more heartless, I'd already taken most of her, there was little left to be her. I was also pissed. That is not the right frame of mind to enter into a BDSM scene with, mea culpa. So the new Kennedy was also pissed. My plan was to make things so unpleasant, he'd never want to see Kennedy again, talk about misreading a situation. I'm supposed to be the one who can read things like that.I turned up unexpectedly, typical Kennedy. Matt was working at home, I transformed. I stopped licking and moved up to her face, kissing her. Her hand reached for my cock, and she wrapped her fingers around my solid member, then was wanking me hard. I looked at her, and she looked hungrily at my cock. I knew that look, so stood with my cock next to her head. She turned to face me and pulled my member into her mouth and started sucking, rolling her tongue around the gland. I reached out and rubbed her pussy, teasing the clit back to action. She stopped momentarily, and asked,.