Mr. Bell wasn’t old. Let’s get that out the way. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties and didn’t have a speck of gray hair. He was a blonde... with a stylish modern cut, which was always kept. He had no face hair; he was a clean shaven man. He always wore a suit, I don’t think I ever seen him in anything else. Mr. Bell was tall, at least 6’3 and he was slim, but when he took off his suit jacket, you could almost see the muscles ripple underneath his crisp dress shirt. His eyes were a warm. It says something about how desperate I was that when she said this I didn't even hesitate. I eagerly went down to the floor, spread her asscheeks, and stuck out my tongue. While my daughter brought herself to orgasm--taking her time, enjoying it, easing up each time her orgasm began to build up--I used my tongue to make love to her anal sphincter. I took pleasure in hearing the way my movements led directly to her squeals of pleasure. She was taking charge of this meeting, but in this. More

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