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It's your daddy. So the wife and I are leaving to the West cost for Christmas to visit family, but she is going earlier than me because I have work stuff to do before I can leave. She is leaving on the 19th, so the next day I want to be FUCKing you. I want you to be my Christmas present. Call me back, bitch"I love how Daddy Jake talks to me. I love being called dirty names and I love to be treated like a sex toy.--------------------------------------------------------December 6, 2019, 11:20AM * Daddy Jake's office phone rings *Daddy Jake: "There is my whore."Lola: "Daddy. I am soooo wet for your cock."Daddy Jake: "I know you are, you dirty bitch. So you ready to be my Christmas present?"Lola: "Yes, yes, yes Daddy. I need daddy's big cock deep INside me again."Daddy Jake: "That's right you fucking bitch. Do you remember Sam?"Lola: "Yes, daddy. He fucked me like 4 times last time we met."Daddy Jake: "That's right baby. You will not only be my Christmas present, but also my friends. It. Her lips just barely peek out and her love button is slightly visible. I was already hard as steel, but this has gotten me even harder! As she stands back up from removing her panties, her hands trail up her body. Up her calves, knees, to her thighs. Slowing and softly caressing her exposed mound, up to her stomach and ribs. Ever so slowly reaching her still bra encased breasts. Knowing that's what I want to see most of all. Softly running her hands over her beautiful chest, she steps towards me.It is very provocative to see this woman before me, totally nude except for her bra. It's like Christmas morning and I've opened all my gifts but "the big one". Kneeling before me she unties and removes my shoes followed by my socks. Standing back up she pulls me up from my seated position and removes my necktie. Unbuttons my shirt and tosses it aside. Then she pulls my t-shirt over my head, pausing for a moment to touch her fingertips to my chest. As her hand trails down my abdomen she.
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Here was someone Fatima had never met before, with rather fewer than the many weeks of preparation that Fatima had invested in getting to know Freddy better, who had so effortlessly succeeded in bedding him. And had already, in the interval of fucking that she’d already witnessed, enjoyed making love with him for rather longer than Fatima had done. And stimulating rather more passion in the man than she had managed. And they continued making love. If this wasn’t long, it was already, humiliatingly longer than any time Fatima had ever spent being fucked by a man. If it went on for much longer, it might even exceed the sum total of all the fucks Fatima had ever had. And Freddy was enjoying it so much. Fatima felt like running away from the room. Let the tears that were welling behind her eyes come to the surface. Instead, she felt obliged to sit there, on one of the two poorly sprung second-hand armchairs in Freddy’s room, mesmerised by the sight of real fucking, wishing that she were.

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