Masturbating in a corset and stockings

But I know that ain’t true. Because part of the thrill, part of the attraction is that she’s my daughter, my flesh and blood, my baby girl. Maybe it’ll help if you knew what she looks like. Five foot four inches tall. The raven-dark wildness of her hair she got from her mother, along with her DD tits. Her world-class ass she earned herself, running six miles a day five days a week, part of a healthy obsession with fitness she got from her old man. Her eyes are emeralds and her lips are plump and soft and her skin is freckled across her nose and cheeks. More freckles dust the tops of her breasts. Her thighs, from running, are thick and thunderous and they look like they could crush a skull between them if she tried hard enough. She’s perfect, a goddamn sex-goddess, and she’s my baby girl. I have to protect her. That’s my duty, handed down from God, and that means I have to protect her from me. And the Lord don’t give no test that a man can’t handle and that’s the goddamn truth. So, I fed the devil in me morsels, busted off in her bras and panties, humped off on her pillow, then jerked off in the shower or before bed thinking about how she pussy would sleep on that pillow, wear those bras and panties, and how in a way, that was as good as fucking her, and I told myself that she was safe. Of course, then Esther comes home from one of her massage sessions early to find me standing in our daughter’s room, a leopard print DD bra cup wrapped around my cock, and that was really the beginning of the end. I didn’t argue with anything that came after. The divorce, the money she got, the house and the sportscar she bought with it, her taking Charlotte away from me, as long as she didn’t go to the press or the cops, I didn’t care. She promised she wouldn’t, only because to do otherwise would make things harder on Charlotte. I told her I was sick, that I hadn’t been in control of myself, that it was probably all the drugs and the steroids and the kicks busty in the head. I promised I would get help, see a doctor, get it taken care of. I lied. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe I should have talked to someone. Because what I didn’t realize was, without that outlet, without those morsels, the devil in me would start to starve. And believe me, I tried everything. I tried the vacation pictures. I tried buying bras and panties identical to the ones my daughter lingerie wears and jerking off into those. I even tried finding a prostitute that looked like her, but there aren’t any. Girls that look like my daughter don’t hook. They’re either models or porn stars or, dildo these days, both. I ain’t gotta tell you that none of that shit worked. And the devil in me just got hungrier and angrier until I couldn’t sleep. Until I was replaced entirely by the hunger, by the need, and my dick wouldn’t go soft until it was assuaged. Like I said. There was no high greater, and I ain’t never fiended for nothin’ harder. I started driving around shaved their new neighborhood in dark sunglasses, waiting to catch a glimpse of my little girl on one of her runs, careful to stay out of view. The restraining order Esther got was a doozy. “I like cum, master. “Choodu Maaa.. would like to talk about lingerie this afternoon." She pushed me off and reached for the tube of lubricant on shaved her bedside cabinet. "My pleasure was seeing you in pleasure. Ooh, it's pussy wonderful. I looked up to see her eyes half closed and head thrown back, and I jammed into her as hard as I could and let her fuck my fingers. A dog will usually stay tied for twenty minutes dildo at least, maybe even up to thirty of forty. Over the next hour After the party, Doug and I went to Lovers Cove busty to get it on. She had to be the one who initiates it completely, and I have to see it for myself.