.. where he lived with a black woman for the remainder of his life. They had twelve children, seven of them girls and he, in his insanity, raped every...one of them. Three of those daughters bore his children. One was a girl who he impregnated when she was twelve and he almost eighty. The son she bore was my father."Shanti looked the older woman eye to eye with a controlled hatred in her voice."My father began raping me at the age of nine. I told Laura I seduced my brothers. In reality, they took. Enjoy the story.Living in a small town had always felt strange to me. Not because of anything specific, but because of the feeling that I was meant to have something bigger. There are lots of people in small towns who feel like they need to see the world, and are being suffocated. Others feel like they fit right in, as if they were made for this. Weirdly enough, my problem has always been how suffocating it was to fit in so perfectly. I always felt I didn't have the control that I wanted. That. I smiled nervously, my hand, holding the coffee pot, shook, and I felt a rush between my thighs, a warm wetness, my pussy was telling me she wanted cock, I swallowed hard and tried to speak, putting the coffee pot down and walking out from behind the counter, over to the huge plate glass window, his eyes following my every move and gesture, as I looked left and right, and pondered more on the direction my husband would return.I heard his voice say, "We can be finished long before he gets back",. Finally, when the piece ended with a fortissimo, a final hard jerk from those delicate hands caused my sperm to spurt out in sharp, thick gouts, spewing onto the keyboard of her grand piano, and when she moved her hands to caress the head of my cock, onto those slender, tapering hands. I could hear Kamari crying out in joy as her legs squeezed my hips on an off. I shot load after load in a climax I could not believe, and covered those beautiful pianist's hands in a white mess of sticky goo..