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I mean, she had some tits that left fucking echoes in my brain. Those were the plumpest, perkiest, gravity-defying orbs of pleasure I've ever seen in my entire goddamn life.
It's not just her fucking tits, but Jesus, it's hard to move on past those. I mean the way that dress was clinging to them. The way it was low cut that it gave me just enough to see. Fuck.
But the rest of her body too. That slender, tight body. I can imagine just emptying my balls on her.
God, that ass. That dress clung to her ass like tissue paper.
I'm walking toward the Senator, but I'm still fucking thinking about that ass. It's causing my cock to keep twitching. It was twitching like a snake that came alive when Penny sat down next to me.
It began to get a heartbeat it was so hard when we were talking.
And I swear to fucking God, it's freaking me out, but I almost came in my fucking pants when she told me her name.
She's my fucking stepdaughter.
I'm literally three, or maybe four, strokes away from just shooting out a gallon of cum after what just happened here. Holy hell.
But let's pause for a second, okay?
Because I shouldn't be having these feelings for Rhoda's daughter. I shouldn't be thinking about rubbing my cock in between her tits. About squeezing those melons together as my cock travels in and out of that flesh pocket.
I shouldn't think about squeezing that ass. About smacking it. About sucking that pussy.
God this is my stepdaughter.
That's the only thing that keeps me from carting myself off and jumping off the fucking Empire State Building.
The fact that she's my stepdaughter. No relation at all.
But what the fuck.
That's no justification for having my brain filled with swirling thoughts of lust, especially for someone so young.
So innocent.
Looks at me like a father figure.
Mainly, because I am her father.
In a manner of speaking.
Fucking Christ, I'm going to hell, aren't I?
You don't gotta lie to me.
The worst part is that the crowd is still clapping and looking at me as I make my way without any outward sign of distress.
I'm shaking Parker Trask's hand and looking out at them from the podium.
I know what they want to hear.
But all I can see is one woman.
The girl at the bar. She's standing up now. Her wide innocent eyes are taking me in. Her breath catches when she sees me looking at her and I look at the rise and fall of her breasts—even from all the way over here—and I start to forget who I am and what I'm fucking doing.
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But just like the applause can take you by surprise, its quick death can be something that jolts you back to the present as well.
