“Let me see if there’s one more in there… you raunchy little bitch… yeah there we are… there’s the juice for Daddy… uh huh… rub those ...lutty tits into my chest and fuck my hand like the slut you are… that’s a good babygirl… mmhmm… you feel those fingers inside you... show me how slutty you are for daddy… you fucking whore… yessss, I feel you climbing… get there while I rub your filthy cunt.”“Shitttt!” she screamed as she came on my hand, drenching it. I wiped it on her face, messing her up for. The third, and easily the smallest, is where my mother and I live. We have two cramped bedrooms, a small kitchen and bathroom and an open area that only has a table that stands a foot off the floor. This room is used for our dining, training, and my home schooling. Right outside our home, we have a garden in which we cultivate our own vegetables. From as early as I can remember, every day was a routine. I was schooled in the normal student studies of math, science, literature, music, art, and. It was her job to takepictures of all the contestants who had entered the country club'swomanless beauty pageant. Although this year. The whole contest had beenchanged to a mixed competition with males and genetic femalesparticipating with the judges not knowing the contestant's actual gender.This was a first for both the club and town.Tina, my sister, had decided that I, John, as Jennifer needed a littleextra help in the body shape department. I thought I passed pretty well,but Tina insisted. And maybe convince her to partake in some long-distance illicit activity before the kids got home.1752.Finally.He had asked to be put on the opposite side of the hotel from the cheerleader convention. The view might have been interesting, but he just didn't have it in him to listen to the high-speed, high-pitched blabber of college-age girls rambling on about nothing in the halls until the wee hours of the morning.The card-key weapon stabbed into the eternal wound above the doorknob. The little.