I don't like it when things don't match up like that. The walking stick and his tailored suit spoke of money, that was at least a story I could like. ...is face was overlong, intense, aristocratic. His nose gave new meaning to the phrase "hawk-like". Thin lips that I never wanted to see smiling, a carefully trimmed goatee, cheekbones you could use for chisels. His eyes were too big for his face, the creepiest thing, the way they bore into you. Those irises looked more like fire opals than. “What are you doing?”“I called shotgun,” I said, licking my lips. Then my hand darted out and squeezed his cock. “If we can't do anything at home, then let's do it on the drive.”“Sam!” he gasped as my head dived down, my fingers ripping down his pants' zipper. The loud rasp echoed. My hand darted inside as Mom slipped into the backseat. “Oh, this is your plan.”“Yep,” I said, pulling Daddy's hard cock out of his fly.I engulfed his cock before they could stop me. He groaned and a wicked shudder. More

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