It was NOT a fatherly kiss, nor was hers a daughterly peck. It was an all-encompassing, passionate, tongue-exploring kiss that lasted for a long time....Her hand jacked along my shaft, and I, in turn, reached below to finger her slit. I remember thinking, ‘She was so wet!’ so I ran my third finger deep into her. She responded by moaning, and intensified her kiss. She gasped and grabbed the back of my neck, and pulled me to her, hard. We French-kissed for several minutes, until she broke away,. Her long jet-black hair swung from side to side as she tugged and playfully masturbated the Father. Her lips were parted ever so slightly and her nipples, sitting so proudly on her perfectly shaped breasts, extended a message of electric sexuality to the scene. Rachel could feel it. She knew it was coming. He knew it too. He had felt it stir him from sleep. Nocturnal emission. ‘Cum for me Father,’ she whispered. ‘Let me see it. Let me taste it Father. Hearing this prayer, the Father left his. More

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