I like her. She used to be on the plump side, but now she’s a fitness freak, always running or lifting weights or playing basketball in her backyard... with me, when she can’t find anyone else. I think all the activity is how she deals with being 30 and single. “Knock ‘em dead,” she said, chucking me on the shoulder, and completely ignoring my lack of enthusiasm. I watched her jog up her front steps. Of course she’d be at the game. Our community isn’t large. Everyone would be there, especially. Getting hard against her bush, separated by only two layers of thin cotton. Suddenly, daddy broke the embrace and pulled away. "Is the tea ready?" he said with difficulty.All day she danced on display for him, bending over to expose her breasts. Stretching out shapely thighs. Asking him "What would you like to do, daddy?" leaving unsaid "what would like to do to me, daddy?" but trying to imply it with a look and a saucy smile. When daddy left for his shift she spread herself naked on the living. This thought overpowered me and I shot my load in synchronization with his buttock clenching ejaculations.They still believed I was out and she amazed and thrilled me. My till then frigid wife bent herself forwards over the chair and told the now stiff cocked again Charlie to fuck her cunt from the back. He didn't need to be told twice and stuffed it right up her vagina in one go. They thrust against each other like wide things until she shuddered again almost threw him off. Now she wailed like. This shit is worse than prison.”“Wake me up,” you tease, voice cresting into song.“Fucking disco-pop is torture. White people killed music while I was disappeared.”“Ya know ya love it, tough guy. C’mon. I know you know the lyrics. Sing it with me. Trah-lah-lah.” You pull yourself up real straight, like a prim and proper white lady from Julliard or something and it looks ridiculous with your tomboy form and candy hair.And I can’t look away. But. “No. No. N. O. Hell nah, if that’s more.