His mother wouldn't be so easily put off once she'd decided to 'talk about' something.Sure enough, the following morning he was nursing a hangover ove... a breakfast of a slice of toast and a cup of coffee when, as if called by magic, it happened. But it wasn't his mother."Morning Simon!" came a bright, masculine voice from the kitchen doorway. Simon looked up and saw his father and wondered where he'd learned to be such a sadist."Morning." he grunted.His father sat down next to him. Simon kept. He scratched his nails down her back. She was sure he left marks. “Ouch. That hurts!” He thrust into her harder. “You scratched the paint—it’s only fair that I scratch you.” “Oh, yeah. Harder. Harder. That’s it. Oh… Oh… Yeah.” Her gasps and cries grew in volume, until she erupted in ear-splitting orgasm. Her cunt clenched around his cock—clenched tight, as if it would never let go. His thrusts were no longer slow and rhythmic. They were rapid and erratic. He must have been close. He held. More

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