Hell, maybe that's why he'd married her as he was always gawking at them and groping them when he didn't think I was watching. On one of his infrequen... visits, Pa had had a couple of glasses of moonshine and we were just finishing up supper. Mom was wearing one of her lowest-cut blouses and the majority of her big, creamy-white tits were on display as usual. I found myself sneaking a peak at them every time I saw no one was watching me. Now I don't think of myself as a pervert or anything, but. I was about to use my own daughter as a sexual plaything, a task no mother should consider about her own daughter. “Are you wet”, I asked, “is you cunt dripping with desire”, I whispered in her ear. My hands held the table on either side of my daughter, as my body leaned forward, her head resting between my 38C breasts. I had her pinned.“Yes mommy”, she said, her breaths ragged.I slapped her arm, playfully, not enough to hurt her, but to tech her a lesson. “I want you to talk dirty, you. He had perhaps a foot in when he ended his long, slow first thrust, her whole body making a huge racket as she thrashed and thrashed on the hardwood and the hard wood. This was giving me an idea I'd have to execute later. “Ready?” Richard asked when she stopped thrashing, both of his hands wrapped around the more than half of his unacceptably enormous cock which had probably never tasted pussy. “Ungh yeah... but...” She started, her sentence ending as he began pulling his hips back, raking her. To her surprise she then heard a second voice which was a male that she couldn’t recognize, the male was talking in Bengali with a deep strong voice. Fright overtook Fatima again wondering if her sasi had been held hostage and the shop being robbed, her hands started to shake and legs trembling from beneath her. She didn’t know what to do, phone her chacha, phone the police or carry on. What she decided was to carry on up the stairs. Once she reached the top she peaked over to see what was.