Daughter's Slut Training Collection 2 by Reed James

Author:Reed James
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: prostitution whore, pussy licking oral creampie, incest daughter mother mommy brother sister, anal ass fucking dp double penetration, older man younger woman girl
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Leyla Umayyah

I shuddered as I kept rubbing my foot into President Carver's crotch, feeling his dick in there. The dick I'd fuck for money. He fumbled to pull out his wallet from his back pocket, almost dropping it. He opened the leather wallet, pulling out twenty dollar bills.

He handed five to my mother.

“Enjoy,” she purred. I didn't know if she spoke to me or the president. Maybe both.

“We will,” I purred, lowering my foot. I rose, my breasts jiggling before the president. He swallowed, staring at my tits. “It's okay to touch them. You paid for me.”

“Sweet Jesus,” he groaned, seizing my breasts in his rough hands. He squeezed hard, massaging my nubile tits.

I shuddered, loving how he manhandled my breasts. Pleasure surged through me, my pussy growing wetter and wetter. I unfastened my skirt, letting it fall in a puddle of dark fabric about my feet. I stood naked before him, my hands caressing him through his shirt, sliding up his torso to his shoulders.

He stared down at my shaved pussy, my tight slit gleaming with my excitement. He groaned again, seeing how wet I was for him, knowing that I was a true slut. I shivered, his hands squeezing my breasts so hard.

“Now let's get you naked,” I moaned, grabbing his blazer, pulling at it.

He had to let go of my tits to slip off his jacket. It fell to the floor while my hands went to his tie. I loosened it, the fabric rasping as it slid around his neck. I giggled draping it around my neck, the loose tails falling between my tits, the blue looking so nice against my dusky breasts.

Mother fondled her breasts as she watched, perched on a student's desk. Her dark eyes smoldered as she watched me unbutton the president's shirt. I shuddered, her gaze making me feel even more wanton and whorish as I serviced my first customer.

As I pulled off his shirt, mother slid a hand up her skirt, exposing her dusky legs. She whimpered, rubbing at her hot flesh through her panties, her naughty parts still kept hidden by the folds of her dress. But I knew she touched herself because I was such a whore I inspired lust even in a good, Muslim woman like my mother.

Faizel had to be wrong about her. Mom wasn't a slut like me.

“Oh, President Carver,” I groaned, running my hands down his pale chest. “What a hunk you are.” He wasn't my father or older brother, but he wasn't too pasty. “You make me so wet.” that part was true. I just wanted to fuck him. He paid for me.

Dizzy euphoria swept through me.

He seized my tits again, squeezing them and groaning his excitement. He shivered as my hands went lower and lower. As he pinched and played with my nipples, I unfastened his slacks. The zipper rasped, then they fell off his hips and down his hairy legs. His cock tented his plaid boxers.

“Ooh, someone just wants to come out and meet me,” I purred, stroking his shaft through his underwear.

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