" Father and son sat down to breakfast. > "How was your fuck from the cunthole this morning?" > "I meant to talk to you about that, Dad. It was pretty...shitty. I mean she hardly put any enthusiasm into it at all. And I think her twat is getting too loose. I know you gave her exercises to keep her pussy tight, but this morning, it was like fucking a watermelon." > Maya held her breath. She had done her best. Now she would be punished for sure, and her dad's punishments were horrible to say the. Paul Sr. had already left for work, but Paul's mother was right behind her son, at the door, waiting to be introduced. "You're not too early!" Marjorie said, opening her arms to Lois' embrace. "We're up! We still have breakfast on the table! Paul's dad has already left for work! You're not too early."Lois was flushed with excitement. She'd carried her own suitcase to the front door from the car, no doubt hoping to avoid fighting with Paul about whether he would be the one to carry in her. She would move in just such a way that I got a very brief glimpse, and wanted more, and got more, though still not enough, and she would continue to move, apparently accidentally, so that I could stroke her calf, her thigh and eventually, after what seemed a age, to slide my finger between her legs and confirm what my eye had suspected. Diana’s cunt lips were, well I say not perfect because so much is obvious, but also pure velvet to the touch, exquisitely moist and glistening. And so we. He was Iranian, and and old crusty one at that. Did I mention he was old yet? He spoke English, but he only seemed to understand every other word. He was to be our driver in an actual gas-powered vehicle. ‘I’m Salamandy Ravenlock,’ Sally said with her Southern sass. ‘We’re from Tranquil Breeze Garden, here to tour Old Macedonia.’ As though he couldn’t tell by the twenty-four noisy little children and the tell-tale blue leaf that marked Garden officials. Despite, we still loaded up into the bus.