My father sat at the large wooden table, engaged in his customary morning ritual: reading newspapers from London, New York, Paris, and Berlin, while s...pping on a small cup of potent coffee. He usually did this while frowning at me, for my habit of pouring a full cup for myself, then only drinking half of it. ‘Liv, here,’ he looked up from his paper. ‘Take some of this, instead of pouring yourself a fresh cup. Coffee’s expensive these days.’ ‘You can afford it,’ I sipped from his cup. ‘We have. "Feels like you can," she replied, pulling up her skirt. "Just keep quiet." But won't we make a baby like this?" he asked quietly as she unfastened his trousers. She had explained everything Jason was being forced to do back at the other camp, though to her it didn't seem like the captured boy needed much forcing.She stroked his cock as she shifted on top of him. "Maybe," she agreed. 'Better you than Jason,' she added silently.As she rode Dylan to a shattering (but not as quiet as they were. More

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