.in me...daddy!" I carried on panting."No," I said, "I can't. Its...not safe." I kept going, getting closer and closer to filling my daughter with my ...um. The image of her dripping with my cum was too much. I got quicker and deeper all over again. "I'm on the pill." She whispered, and that was all I needed. I flipped her onto all fours and we went doggy. She groaned "fuck" about a million times as I crushed her with my dick. "Oh this feels so fucking good daddy, fuck your slutty daughter!" My. He began to wear whipcord or wool pants, collared shirts with a string tie, and sometimes a mid thigh length frock coat. Each week the girls at the laundry washed and pressed his clothes, it cost him twenty five cents a week. It was an expense he hadn’t had before but it sure beat doing his own things. Besides, he liked the way he looked and felt wearing cleaned and pressed clothes. His next stop was Sam Jordan’s, the gun smith. Dillon only had to fire his pistol a few times since becoming the. More

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