She often slept on the sofa. She wasnt his daughter- not biologically anyway. When he met Carrie Molly was one. But he loved her like he was his own. ...he was the spitting image of her mother. He turned and walked upstairs, present in hand. He opened the door and what he saw broke his heart. His brother Tom wason his knees, with his cock sliding in and out of his wifes wet pussy. She was moaning in ecstacy, throwing her head up and down, begging to be fucked harder and deeper. They continued. “Sit on my face?” he offered.“Okay,” she said. After he scooted on the bed, she ended up on her side, upper leg high, opening her pussy for his lips and tongues while she continued attending to his cock. Joe tasted a hint of urine, but mostly her delicious sweet musk. Proof of her horniness in abundance. He pushed through the fog of liquor to concentrate. Somehow it worked. She moaned around his cock. Then just her hand fisted him while she moaned his name and shivered.“How do you want me?” he. More

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