"So I'm free if you're free to do ... whatever," she looked down at the table again, embarrassed by her forthrightness, vague as it was."Good, I look ...orward to lots of ... whatever. But perhaps we should do something special?" I'm in favor of special," she punctuated that with a kiss. "What did you have in mind?" I have no idea," I said, my mind spinning. "We could go somewhere quiet for a long weekend perhaps?" You have good ideas. I expect to be pleasantly surprised when I get back from. Three burly Guardsmen dashed in."You've killed her," one of them said. "Three cheers for Dorothy! The Wicked Witch is Dead!"Dorothy stepped over to the nightstand and picked up the Witch's pointed hat. As she lifted it, a small, silver cap dropped out of it. She picked it up.She also picked up the Witch's black dildo, which was lying on the floor."May we?" she addressed the guard, holding up the two items."Please do," the Guardsman said. "And take them with you."Dorothy and her companions filed. We had quite the role reversal going on here, but I did my best to work with it. She would get so upset if I didn't cum, but she would be dry five minutes after cumming herself. If I kept going, it would hurt her. No fun there. All beside the point of this story, so let's get back to my step daughter's crush. She called me dad and that's how she introduced me to her friends. Some of her girlfriends called me 'daddy', and it made me hard to hear it. It got a little weird sometimes when I'd show. She was not crying loudly, but weeping to herself, yet in this quiet house the sound was very deafening. My muscles shook with fear, my hands were sweaty and my teeth ground together.Finally I reached the bottom of the stairs and snuck another peek at the woman before I would exit from the front door and run like hell. I saw an attractive small woman, dressed very nicely, laying upon the floor facing the fire. From my angle I could see the tears upon her cheeks, and her sad round face. My heart.
Read MoreIt smacked of treachery to me, but even more so when three older members of Qyburn’s “little birds” followed them into my room. These were lads,
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