The boy was about 11 and had curly blond hair round a soft child's face. He was a pretty child. The girl must have been 13, was taller and darker, wit... black eyes, deep brunette hair and the beginnings of a figure. They came sheepishly into the living room."What time do you call this", barked Angie. They hung their heads and the girl stuttered that they'd missed their bus."Go to your rooms and get ready for bed. I'll deal with you later."Angie's father had been a religious fanatic and belonged. Ah, he wanted to use his thighs to keep her breasts together. With eyes still closed, he mingled his fingers with her own, found her wet nipples, and offered them small pinches, pinches she had long taught him to master with correct pressure and softness. And as he massaged them, caressed and teased them with his fingertips and his cum, she milked her areola from outside his touch, working her hands around in subtle circles, as she slid her grip in toward her nipple with gentle, squeezing. More

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