Brutal beauties fisting on the couch

I was nervous in the changing room. My eighteen-year-old body quivered as I stared at the outfits before me. They were all so much more adult than I was used to wearing. When Daddy said he wanted to take me shopping, I was so shocked. He never wanted to take me shopping, but when my college classes got out, he'd offered to take me. He said I was beautiful and asian pretty. It sent all these butterflies through my stomach. It made me think of Daddy as a man. Not just as my father, but as a man who liked women. Liked my mother. He said I looked as pretty as Mom did at my age. They were high school sweethearts. They had grown up together. Loved each other. He was so sad after mom passed away a few years ago. I slipped off my top and sat it carefully on the bench. My small breasts jiggled in my purple bra with white polka dots on it. My flaming hair swayed in the mirror's reflection. I grabbed a halter top. I pulled it on, trembling at how naughty it was. It showed off so much flesh. There were only spaghetti straps that went over my shoulders and... I could see my bra. The top of indian the cups peeked out and the straps were thicker than the halter top. I bit my lip. It was designed to be worn with a different type of bra, like a strapless demi bra. I didn't have one of those. Should I take my bra off? I gnawed on my lower lip in indecision. Daddy was outside the changing room. He wanted to flashing see how beautiful I was. “I have not.” I look up at flashing her, shocked, and she just smiles and tucks her phone into her pocket before stepping into my office and closing the door behind her. I wondered if asian they creamed their pants – that was if they knew what was happening. She reminded me of my sister. "I gotta an A on my math quiz!" she shrieked, placing her arms around him and then indian whispering in his ear, "I texted that great news home, and my mom says I can come over today after school to study some more. Momo wordlessly climbed onto the couch and into my lap like she always would, rolling around to find the perfect spot. Jake kept pumping. I could feel her erect nipples as they poked into the palm of my hand as I caressed the soft skin. Romantic movies always made her smile or cry" "how romantic". “She's soaked,” my mom moaned. He gingerly rubbed the inside of her thighs…