Monday, October 18, 2010

art-[L-02]-(lesbian-voyeurism---part-1-of-1

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Art 101

Part-1-of-1

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A slight chorus of poorly contained titters went up around the room as the three lovelies shed their robes. They all seemed very comfortable in their naked skins, yet two of them had merely switched their robes for a professional bearing. The third was an avowed exhibitionist. All eyes were riveted on them for a few uncertain minutes. He had gone to great lengths to create a balanced set. The blonde was of California ilk, trim and golden brown with piercing blue eyes and D-cup breasts. The brunette was a coffee colored Mulatto. She had a no nonsense body, sturdy yet sensual. Her dark eyes commanded one’s attention. The redhead was breathtaking. Her gleaming creamy white and freckled skin provided the perfect backdrop for her orangey-pink nipples and matching bush. Her knowing eyes belied the Irish farm girl sweetness she otherwise projected. The walls themselves quivered in anticipation.

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“If I may have your attention please,” Professor Jolsen announced. “If you will all peel your eyeballs off the young ladies. Yes, thank you. Throughout history the great masters have created scenes with heavy sexual overtones. Some have, in more recent years, attempted to capture raw emotions. In the weeks to follow, class, we are going to attempt to merge these schools of thought and capture the emotions we find associated with sex. We will explore many different kinds of sex, from the sublime to the perverted, and finish with the traditional. We will compare and contrast these emotions on both an art and a moral level. Today,” he gestured towards the nude models, “we are fortunate enough to experience these three lovely ladies as they share their bodies with each other. We will all analyze our emotions, as well as the emotions that they project, and compose a painting based on those findings. Any questions?”

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A homely looking girl, wearing boy’s clothes spoke up, “This is nothing but pornography and pornography is degrading to all women.” She was so incensed that venom all but dripped from her mouth as she spoke.

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“Yes Miss Piasecki, we’ve had this conversation before. Anything else?” The room was otherwise silent. “Then, my dears, you may begin when ready. Take your time class. Let the play unfold before forming an opinion.”

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Jolsen, he congratulated himself, you’re a fucking genius. For decades he had quietly whacked off behind his impossibly oversized canvas while admiring the nude models his class painted. Pretty or plain, provocative or demure, male or female, he had enjoyed them all. Yet after the initial thrill wore off, he had begun to crave some sort of action. Still life and fantasy are wonderful tools for the mind to work with, but action broadens one’s horizons. With a class of painters, however, action was impractical. That is, until he struck on this ‘emotions of sex’ idea. With his paint speckled, silk brush rag at the ready, Jolsen settled back to watch the young ladies perform their pageant.

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There were some stalls and uncertainties at first. The blonde appeared a bit standoffish, or possibly shy. Finally the black woman took the redhead in her arms for a ‘lover’s kiss.’ Their tongues darted in and around each other's mouths for agonizingly quick moments. Nipples and clits reacted automatically to the stimulation with swelling curiosity. After some moments of watching, along with the rest of the class, the blonde bombshell was ready to rock.

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Taking the black woman’s cue, she moved into a kiss with the redhead, or vice versa. The retiring brunette circled around behind her West Coast sister so she could administer some tender kissing on her neck and earlobes.

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It seemed the golden one would play receiver for the moment. Each of her new lovers made simultaneous kissing trails down her svelte body, both front and back. The black woman did as thorough a sucking job on the points of her shoulder blades as the small redhead did on her engorged nipples. Soon they arrived on their knees, one perched at the fissure between her ass cheeks, the other poised at the hairy cleft of her tingling pussy. Tongues flicked out like hungry snakes tasting the air for prey. The class shifted on its stool.

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The blonde was breathing heavy and erratically as knowledgeable tongues danced where her panties had been. Desperately, she tried to balance herself in a bowlegged stance, to give the other girls more access to her horny holes, and to try to stay erect. At long last, though, the pyramid collapsed, crashing to the floor. Some students stood to maintain their view of the action. A few began to paint furiously. The feminist leaped to her feet and stormed angrily from the room in a noisy cavalcade of one. Forgotten by the class, Van Horne sat at the back of the room and teased his exposed cock with his silk paint rag.

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The action on the floor turned turbulent. The blonde made a reciprocating move to lick the dewy pussy of the fair redhead. She, in turn, kissed and otherwise fondled the proud breasts of her raven-haired sorority sister. The brunette found herself amused with fingering the blonde’s brown bud. All three made the most lewd noises, while the hungry freshmen looked on in wonder. Some of the less sophisticated among them were rapt in shock. The more aware managed a secret stroke of their own flesh, or that of a neighbor in one case. Frenzy was overcoming the models. They seemed to jump from one heaving body part to another in an attempt to do it all at once. It was obvious that there were no old lovers in this triad. Van Horne managed to tease his balls with a soft paintbrush as he palmed his old cock with the rag.

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The amorous young women seemed to calm their passions a bit, or at least find a rhythm. They settled into a daisy chain, each with her face buried in the sticky sweet pussy of the next. To the artists, their mingled skins reminded them of a color wheel. Stiff clits ground into moaning mouths. Anxious teeth nipped at puffy lips. Sweet cries of tortured ecstasy reverberated around the room. Not all of them came from the center of attention, either. The redhead begged to have her tiny asshole fingered as she reached down to help herself along. The coffee colored woman collapsed flat on the floor in a shuddering mass of Jell-O, begging for more. But her pained pleas went unanswered. Soon all three women lay panting on the floor, their energies and excitement spent. So too was Van Horne’s. He let the sticky rag fall into his brush bucket and adjusted himself accordingly.

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There wasn’t a dry pair of underwear in the room. The students had either cummed or wanted to so badly that they could scream. Jolsen wondered, for a brief second, whether the poor freshmen could handle five more of these sessions. Just as quickly, he dismissed the thought with a profound, “Fuck them.” One girl could stand no more. Urgently, she begged off and ran for the ladies room. An exodus followed her.

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As she entered the ladies room, a grunting of sorts called her frazzled attention to an unlocked stall at the far end of the room. Fearing that someone was in real trouble, the girl opened the stall door. There sat Miss Piasecki with three fingers pushed up inside her soaking pussy and a thumb teasing her clit. The recently arrived freshman girl just shook her head, in wonderment. But not too puzzled to keep her from getting down on her knees in the small stall. The moaning resumed.

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The End...

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Saturday, October 16, 2010

Bite-[H-01]-part-1-of-1_humor

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A Bite Out of Crime

Part-1-of-1

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Around 2:30 AM Saturday night. I wake up. I knew immediately that something just wasn't right, Cinnamon wasn’t sleeping beside me on the bed and I couldn't hear Brutus's snores/lip smacking from across the room. I inhaled deeply. No, I thought, it wasn’t Brutus's legendary flatulence that woke me up this time. Bleary eyed, I lift my head to look around the room. Both dogs were standing at attention in front of the closed bedroom door; ears back, hackles up, low growls rolling through the room.
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"Now what?" I sigh as I roll out of bed, slip on my favorite fuzzy pink slippers and drop my cell phone into the pocket of my jammies. With the bedroom door open, ‘the boys’ purposefully and rapidly make their way to the front of the house. I followed a little more cautiously in the dark, listening carefully and peeking around corners. When I caught up with them, the dogs were in the laundry room at the side door, again at attention and on alert. From where I was at I could see through the kitchen window to the driveway, where a dark figure is messing around the side of my car.
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”Fuck,” I thought as I clip a leash onto Brutus's collar and put Cinnamon in a down position behind me. With my hand on the doorknob, I take a deep breath and throw open the door.
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"Stop! Or I'll send out the dog!" I yell at the man on the opposite side of my car. He froze and looked up at me startled. For the briefest of moments, his eyes sparkle in the darkness and then he turned and made a run for it.
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"Sic'em, Brutus!" I scream, dropping the leash.
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Unhesitatingly Brutus took off after the intruder like he was Colonel Sander's himself wearing original recipe pants. When I round the corner leading to the front of the house, I'm met with the following scene; "The Colonel" was face down, spread-eagle in the middle of my front yard with his pants and underwear around his knees. Brutus is behind him, in-between his legs with a mouthful of jeans and boxer shorts, furiously thrashing his head side to side while soon-to-be Mr. Extra Crispy is trying, unsuccessfully, to kick Brutus away.
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"Brutus! Down! Guard!" I yell, grabbing the leash.
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"Get 'em off me! Get 'em off me!" the prowler wails
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"Quit moving or you're gonna get bit!" I cautioned him.
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"Get 'em off me!"
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"Not until the cops get here!” I told him, “Now stop moving, or you’ll get bit.”

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Wisely, he froze. By now Brutus was laying in between the Colonel's legs, tail a-wagging, mouth still full of clothing and eyes fixed on the "nether regions" not six inches from his snout. All three of us are panting, not moving or saying anything for a few beats.
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"If you move, you WILL get bit.” I reminded him; “So don't move!"
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Remembering that I had my cell phone in my pocket, I pulled it out and dial 911.
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"911, what's the emergency?"
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"Mydoganicaughaburglar!" I franticly blurted out.
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"I'm sorry Ma'am, what's going on?"
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Taking a deep breath, I said, "My dog and I caught a burglar." She asks a few more clarification questions and got my address. As I snap my phone shut, the Colonelstarted to struggle and tried to get up.
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"Stay down, don't move!" I yell, as Brutus still with a death grip on his jeans and gave a shake or two.
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"Can I pull up my pants?" the punk wailed.
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"Not until the cops get here, asshole!"
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At this point a couple of my neighbors come running up and ask if I need help. I look at them, look at Brutus and look at the glaringly white backside on my front lawn.
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"I think Brutus and I’ve got it under control. But thanks for asking!" looking at the fool lying in the damp grass, we all smiled and gave a little chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.
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"Actually, the cops are on their way. Could you two watch this guy and make sure he doesn't leave while I put the Brutus in the house?"
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"No problem."
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I freed Brutus from the bite and led him into the house. On my way back outside I swung around to the side of my car where the punk had been. The gas tank was open and there was a tube leading from the gas tank to one of those big green military looking gas cans. A tap on the side told me that it was half full of my gas.
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When the cops arrive, they cuff the Colonel,’ pulled his pants up, read him his rights, locked him up in their squad car and took statements. Somewhere in there I got a talking to about not just calling 911 and in hindsight that probably would have been the safest thing to have done. When the cops checked up and down the street, they found at least 4 other cars whose gas tanks had obviously been tampered with. A few blocks away they found the Colonel's parked pickup with several more gas cans full of gasoline.
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By the time the cops met Brutus, he’d clamed down and was his typical, goofy self, happy as a clam that he was getting all the attention and especially the treats. We showed them how well he downs and heels and sits and salutes and I even tried to get him to do his ever-popular drooling trick, but he didn't co-operate on that one.
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Brutus got a couple of Big Mac's as a "bonus" for all his hard work yesterday, so I'm guessing that it will be his legendary flatulence that wakes me up tonight.

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The end...

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Thursday, October 14, 2010

Slut Princess-[I-02]-(m/d/d incest-light bondage-spanking-blowjobs-swallowing-girl/girl)—part-1 thru 2-of-2_

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Slut Princess

Part-1-of-2

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It was our first vacation as a family with our daughter as an official adult. This meant 2-things. One, she could take care of herself as far as going where she wanted to, and two, because of reason number one, my wife and I would be able to spend time pursuing our interests. Before, we would make distinctly separate trips, those as a family and those that my wife and I went on. Those were the ones where it didn't do well to have a kid tagging along.
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Several years ago my wife and I got caught in the rut that married people tend to get in after awhile. Over the years we tried a lot of different things to spice up our love life, usually with great success. For example, like most people, when my wife drinks a lot of alcohol, she loses most of her inhibitions. Depending on your definitions she could be classified as submissive or very willing and open to new suggestions. We played around with the submissive side of the definition for several years until that too grew to be routine. We had done threesomes with other women so it seemed fairly progressive that we would move into swinging.
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We joined clubs and even took swinging vacations. We would hook up with a couple and go out to eat and maybe to a club, and then leave with the other's partner. You can see where having your kid in the next room and wanting to talk to Mom could be difficult to explain. And I don't even want to think about some of the more vocal partners I've had over the years waking my daughter up in the middle of the night. The next morning over breakfast we would swap back, hopefully with everyone having enjoyed themselves the night previous.
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So with Tiffany now over 18, we decided that we would try to combine the 2-together. She hadn't been at the age where she wanted to go to amusement parks or sight seeing type trips for some time anyway. What we decided was a location where we would all find plenty to do. Our choice? Panama City Beach, Florida.
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We did our research carefully and found that there would be plenty to do in the area for an 18-year old girl. If nothing else I could give her my credit card and let her shop until she dropped. There were also clubs that catered to teens that were not old enough to drink alcohol but they could still have a good time. For my wife and I, we had met several couples on line and talked on the phone at great length about our get togethers.
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So with a reservation at a nice beachfront hotel, we were off. We spent the first day together as a family, doing the sight seeing thing and getting a feel for the area. We had lunch at a fabulous restaurant and went shopping for the required new swimwear. As the evening approached I handed Tiffany my credit card, some cash and a cell phone programmed with my own cell phone number. She already knew where she was going, and took off in the rented car.
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My wife and I made our preparations and went to the hotel lounge for a drink or 2-while waiting for our new friends to arrive. As sometimes happens, things didn't go as well as we planned. After waiting almost an hour I called our friends to find out that the wife was sick. We relayed our disappointment and wished her well. They recommend a bar that the local swingers tend to hang out in that we checked out after a nice dinner. We meet some nice folks but no one that we want to swing with on a first time meeting. We still have a good time and head back to the hotel around ten o'clock.
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We’d told Tiffany that we’d probably be staying out late, until at least 2 a.m. and for her not to worry about us. After a nightcap at the hotel lounge my wife and I head up to our room. My wife decided to take a shower and I open the mini bar and fix myself another drink. The suite we’d checked into had a nice living room type area and then the 2-bedrooms off to the side. The bedrooms both overlooked the Gulf of Mexico with a shared balcony. I opened the sliding glass door and was surprised at how much sound came from the crashing waves on the beach. A hint of the moon rising late in the evening danced across the waves and gave a soft glow to the beach as my eyes began to adjust.
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Along with my eyes adjusting to the dim light, my hearing adjusted to the night sounds. I was able to not only see people walking on the beach, but I could hear their muffled conversations. Nothing distinct enough to understand, but I had begun to learn how to block out the sound of the waves. I also thought I heard the sounds of lovemaking. I began to use my eyes to look for the source of the sound glancing up and down the beach. I moved a bit down the balcony and noticed the sounds got louder. And I was also able to tell from the sounds I heard that this was not lovemaking, it was fucking. And trust me, there’s a difference.
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That's when I really began to notice where the sounds were coming from. They weren't coming from the beach, but from the partially open sliding glass door to our daughter Tiffany’s room. I moved slowly towards the door listening carefully and was truly shocked at what I heard.
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"You like that don't you bitch. You like me fucking your hot pussy don't you? You little slut," from a male voice.
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"Oh yes, fuck me. Fuck me hard and fast. I love the way your cock feels in my pussy. Make me take it all, fuck me like the little slut I am," from a voice that I recognized even though I had never heard those words from my daughter's mouth.
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I peeked into the room and found that with the bathroom light on I could clearly see what was going on. There on the bed was my precious daughter Tiffany. It appeared she was on her hands and knees getting it doggie style from some guy. Now I don't care how much of an adult being 18-makes you, there was no way I was letting my daughter get fucked in a room I paid for. I throw the door open wide and make my presence known in the most polite manner I could manage.
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"Just what the hell is going on here? You think you can get your sorry ass off my daughter before I toss you off the balcony like day old garbage," I roar.
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The guy pulled out of my daughter's still humping pussy in record time.
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"Hey man, she told me she was 18," he tells me thinking he got hooked up with some jailbait.
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"Her age has nothing to do with the fact that if you don't get your shit and get the fuck out of this room right now, you’ll not live to regret it," I continue to yell as I approach the guy.
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A very quick size up and a now deflating erection
leaned him towards his decision to grab his pants and pull them on as he picked up the rest of his stuff and headed for the door. Then I looked back towards the bed expecting to find my daughter covered with a blanket. What I found was her still on her hands and knees, and she wa
s mad.
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"I am 18-damn years old. I can fuck whomever I want and you don’t have the right to stop me," she screamed.
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I move
d closer and that's when I noticed that she wasn't just on her hands and knees. She was on her knees but her wrists were
tied to the headboard.
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"You know," I
told
her, "you aren't in much of a position to be talking to me that way. And for the record, you’re right. I may not be able to stop you from fucking all the time, but I'll be damned if I'll let you be a slut in a room I paid for."
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"Fuck you," was her instant reply.
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Out of instinct I walk over to her and land …smack… the flat of my hand across her naked butt. She jumped and lets out a yelp and I …smack… swatted her again. Over …smack… and over …smack… I spank her as I …smack… correct her …smack… attitude.
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"You will not …smack… talk to me …smack… that way, not now …smack… not ever …smack… again. No matter …smack… how old you …smack… get I am …smack… still your …smack… father …smack… and you …smack… need to learn …smack… to respect me …smack… for that. Do you …smack… understand me, …smack… girl?"
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Through her tears Tiffany apologized. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. I promise to be good from now on."
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It
was when she’d finished speaking that I realize what Id done. By the light in the bathroom I could see that her ass cheeks were bright red from the punishment. I reached a hand out to touch her butt and she jumped as I felt
the heat from the spanking. I continued to rub her ass while I talk.
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"I'm sorry Tiffany. I shouldn't have done that."
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To be continued…

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Slut Princess

Part-2-of-2

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“No, Daddy you were right," she told me through her remaining sniffles, "I was bad and you were right to punish me. Thank you for correcting my bad attitude and showing me the proper way to behave."
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An instance of déjà vu rushed through me at her last comment.
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"Where did you learn that from?" I ask not sure if I want
ed to hear the answer or not
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"From Mom, when you use to punish her. I wasn't sure I would enjoy it as much as Mom seemed to, but I did. I enjoyed it a lot Daddy. I can feel my pussy juice dripping down my legs. Check for yourself, Daddy. As you said, I'm not much in a position to argue with you," my daughter told me, her voice filled with lust.
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I rub her ass more as my daughter wiggled her hips. Let
ting my hand trail down between her legs, I founded
that she was shaved clean.
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"I started shaving my pussy when I was 16. I knew you made Mom keep hers that way so I did it hoping that some day you would like mine that way too," my slut daughter told me.
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My fingers
found her soft lips and they were indeed as wet as she said. I slid a finger between her lips and gently rubbed
back and forth.
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"Oh, Daddy see how wet my young pussy got for you. Please don't stop Daddy. I promise to be good and do whatever you say if you just don't stop. I was so close to cumming when you kicked that guy out."
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I rub along her slit and Tiffany jumped as my finger made contact with her swollen clit. I ease a finger back along her slit and let it slide up her tight hole. I gently slid it in and out, teasing my daughter's pussy with my finger.
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"Oh that feels so good Daddy. Put another finger in me Daddy, finger my hot pussy with your hand," she begged.
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As I slid another finger in I moved around so my other hand could
find her breasts. I pinched her nipples as I continued to stroke my fingers in and out of her wet pussy.
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"Pinch them hard Daddy. Pinch my nipples hard. They’re so sensitive and I want you to pinch them like you used to do to Mommy when you made her cum. Please make me cum Daddy. I want to show you how much I love you and how much I like what you’re doing to me," she begged.
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As she requested I pinched her nipples hard and
then
I began to fuck her with my fingers hard too, slamming them in and out of her fast. She began to buck her hips and with another finger I began to rub her clit.
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"Fuck, I'm gonna cum Daddy
, I’m gonna cum. I've wanted this for so long. Yes, fuck your daughter's slutty pussy with your hand. Oh, Daddy, Oh," she wailed as she drifted
off into the place where people go when words no longer make sense.
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I
could feel her pussy spasm around my fingers as she cummed. I keep up my actions and she cummed again. I finally pull my hand away, leaving my daughter to trying to
catch her breath.
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"Put your hand up to my mouth Daddy. Make me clean my cum off your hand."
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Laughing, I placed my hand to her mouth and she gently licked and sucked my fingers clean of all trace of her pleasure. As for me, I began to feel confusion over the situation. It would be very simple for me to pull out my hard cock and do whatever I wished. I stood, uncertain for a moment and then walked back out onto the balcony. I got to the other door and walked
inside.
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"There you are. Are you alright?" my wife asked when she saw the look on my face.
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It took only about 5-minutes for me to confess the event to my wife. I was so ashamed of what had happened that I couldn't even look her in the eye.
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"And you didn't fuck her?" she asked when I finish.
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"No, I just… touched her."
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"So where is she now?" my wife wanted to know.
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"She still in her room, right where I found her."
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"Oh my god, Charles. You can't just leave her like that," my wife said as she jumped from the bed and headed out the balcony door.
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I waited in our bedroom about 20-minutes for my wife to return. I figured she was trying to explain to our daughter about what had happened. Comforting her so as to minimize any trauma that I may have caused her. I also thought about me. What I needed to know was what my wife was going to say to me. I’d played it all out in my head and was even starting to think about where I could get an apartment that I could afford and pay the alimony that she would hit me up for. I needed to know.
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I decided to sneak out onto the balcony to see what was being said about me. As I approached the door I didn’t hear any talking. I peeked in and was astonished at what I saw. On the bed were my wife and daughter. My wife was propped up on a pillow with her robe open and our daughter was between her mother's spread legs. My lovely wife ha
d
her hands in Tiffany's hair guiding her in her efforts.
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"Oh, there you are dear. I hope you don't mind but I untied her. It's just easier this way for me. We can tie her up again if you want to when she gets done," my wife told me.
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Tiffany never let up as we talked. Stunned, I move
d
over and watched as she licked her Mom's pussy, her hands fondling my wife's breasts and teasing her nipples as she ate.
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"She’
s gonna need some more practice at servicing my pussy though. But I figure that by the time we get back home she’ll know just how I like it," my wife murmured
as she looked at me through half closed eyes.
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"Looks like you’re enjoying this too," she laughed, noticing the tent in my shorts. "You know you could give our daughter a self esteem problem if she thinks you don't want to fuck her. We wouldn't want that
, now would we?
Why don't you slide your cock into her hot pussy and show her how much you really want it while she finishes me off. Then when you're done, we'll both give you a nice blowjob."
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Pulling off my robe and shorts, I hoped up on the bed and got behind my kneeling daughter. My cock was harder than it had been in years, with a drop of pre-cum already forming on the tip. I took hold of my cock and slide it along Tiffany's wet slit, teasing her with it.
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"I think our slut princess liked that Charles; she's really licking my pussy good now. You better not tease her too much the first time though. Go ahead and stick it to her good. Show her how good you can fuck her hot pussy," my wife encouraged.
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I ease
d
the head in between her slick lips and then placed my hands on her supple hips. I eased about an inch in and then pull back out. Tiffany was making noises into her Mom's pussy as she ate her. Teasing her, I slid a little bit in and then pull it back out, before holding her tight and slamming in balls deep. I couldn’t believe how tight her pussy was around my cock or how wet she was. I pulled out and slammed into her again, pushing her moaning mouth against her Mom's pussy.
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"
Tiffany, you be a good slut princess and cum around your Daddy's cock now. He’ll enjoy the feeling of your tight little pussy rippling on his cock and then he’ll give you a nice hot load of Daddy cum up your sweet pussy. And you can start sucking on my clit now and licking it with your tongue, I need to cum too," my wife instructed
our daughter.
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Tightening my grip on her hips, I continued to fuck Tiffany hard, fast and deep, making sure that my balls slapped against her clit with each thrust. I noticed my wife's eyes closed and her face began to get flushed, the first sign of her impending orgasm. I pulled my cock almost all the way out, leaving just the head in between my daughter's pussy lips. As soon as I saw my wife's face clench, I slammed hard into Tiffany's pussy.
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I push in hard
two more times and as a moan escaped my wife's lips, I unload a torrent of cum up my daughter's pussy. My own throbbing orgasm was made more intense when I felt Tiffany
's muscles spasm in orgasm as she worked to milk my cock dry.
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When my wife pushed Tiffany's mouth away from her over sensitive clit, Tiffany rested her head on her Mother's stomach. While not as hard as I was, I remain thick so I took the opportunity to slide in and out a bit and enjoy the feeling of my daughter's
cum filled
pussy around my cock again. I pulled out and let myself fall onto the bed, exhausted but happy.

The rest of our vacation took on an almost honeymoon type feel. We never really left the hotel except for a few trips to the local adult boutique for some toys and other items. Once we returned home, my wife and I agreed that there would be no more need for swinging. Not as long as our slut princess was around.

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The end…

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