After that I just kept making trips up and down her body worshiping her pussy.Stacey wasn’t a whole lot older than Ashley was when she first moved h...re. I remembered seeing her sunbathe topless with my wife on more than one occasion. I was secretly in love with Ashley’s mother, not that Ashley was second best by any means. After all, Ashley was naked and letting me abuse her body before fucking it. Once I had my fill of that lovely teenager I slipped my cock into her. She was every bit as wet. It makes me feel owned, especially if I've been told to wear it by someone else. A buttplug is almost like one of those signs that read 'Property of Such-and-such'. The person who tells you to wear it is laying his claim on you and your body. He's telling you that your asshole is his. You can still finger your cunt or maybe even insert a digit beside the plug, but the thing is there to remind you that full authority is not yours. Some would argue that the plug is actually a substitute for your. Rosy, well, let's just say she probably takes after her father.I am mentioning the Harpies as they have been a constant diversion in our ongoing affair especially since the passing of Bill. We have had to resort to lies and subterfuge to stay out of their way. They would not approve of their mother being with me especially so soon after the funeral. They are both 'Daddies Girls' and would not want his or their memories soiled with the likes of me!If I wasn't married I would jump at the chance. She started to hump back and forth.His other hand spread her cheeks, and she knew he was looking at her asshole. It was still sore from the night before, too, from his cock taking it. A fingertip teased her asshole as she ground against his fingers.She so, so, so needed to come. It had been far too long, and her clit was swollen, tender and needy. His fingertip pressed into her ass. Suddenly she was close, her clit twitching.“Please, please, Sir, may I come? Pretty pretty please?”His.