I guess there's no need to cry over spilt milk; I did it and I can't change the past. After all, it was only a dream, and I shouldn't feel ashamed ove... something I couldn't control.The warm spray of the shower felt good cascading down over her body. She washed carefully the insides of her thighs and buttocks, almost reluctant to wash away the sticky still-warm fluid from her soft, pubic hair. As her fingers moved up and down the warmth of the narrow slit between her legs, cleansing it of the. Daddy came up from behind me and kicked one of my legs to the side, parting my thighs. His hands gripped my cheeks and spread me open. I heard him spit, then I felt the glob splatter on my tailbone, drool between my cheeks, and pool about my puckered rim. I shuddered. All other escapades with my father, I’d prepared for beforehand, but I had no preparation for this. I was improvising, and the lack of control terrified me. My body trembled as I braced for his intrusion. Leveria, what the fuck. More

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