After all, the old lecherous bastard, despite his obvious distaste for you, or perhaps out of some perverse desire to annoy his own children, had left...his mansion - Coldbrook Manor, in rural Maine - to you.Lots of stories about the estate have been handed down through the family - stories about it being haunted, or cursed - the kind of stories older kids in large dynastic families tell to their impressionable cousins to terrify them.The fact of the matter, as some of the more sober and. His fingers parted and spread the lips of her heat-awash pussy, and his lips and teeth closed over her clit. The last thing George heard was Jennifer screaming out a “Yes, George! God, eat me up!”. Then, her surfer’s thighs locked his face into her quivering, convulsing, climaxing gash. And George, had he wanted to, could not have withdrawn his mouth as he bit and sucked Jennifer’s clit into an orgiastic frenzy.It seemed minutes to Jennifer until the last of the uncounted spasms of her climax. “Three strikes mean you’re a bad boy.” He sighed with arousal as he fingered my slippery hole. “Only good boys get daddy’s cock.” His middle finger slid in deep and pressed against my g-spot. I pushed back against it, but he pulled it out. “Am I gonna have any more problems outta you?”“No, sir. I won’t do again.” I said, but he still gave me a few more harsh paddlings.“Better not.” His hands squeezed my tender cheeks.I twisted around and kissed him while grinding my ass on the front of his. She had to hitch up her skirt over her hips to give her more purchase on her pleasure. It was so wrong to be fucking herself on the clock but it was also so right. She heard her door click open but she was lost to the moment. It was her secretary. She was obviously louder than she had thought. He was about 5 years younger than her. She has specifically requested him as his dark good looks always made the day easier. "Do you need some help with that" he asked with a dark sexual look on his face.