Fruit of My Crime 2

She looks at me coldly. With some resistance on her part, I manage to push her onto the bed. I can’t hit a woman to hurt, the only times I did it was as an act of pleasure. – Take off your pantyhose. She takes it off gently as she looks at me, teasing. – I think it would be better if you told her everything, than torturing me. – excellent! Since that’s how it is, just hit me with that belt and I’ll tell you. In a bra, panties and heels, she gets on all fours, rolls, rolls. – don’t you want me to tell you right away? Hit me.

Even if it took away my peace, I knew that everything had a beginning, I knew that I was the main factor in the situation. If she does and leaves with her mother, I at least want her to have some good memories of me. I lay it on my back. – Are you afraid that she knows? I take no notice of the provocation and run my tongue from the bottom up. – bastard, you’re jealous. I lick around her neck, kiss until I get close to her breasts. I notice her sigh after being surprised. He splays it over my chest and glides on gently. In that I kiss her, taking her by storm. I take advantage of the bra opening at the front and massage a breast while touching her vagina.

– I lied. It wasn’t “program”, it was just to annoy you. You are the only man I have sex with. After confessing in my ear, I would be angry on another occasion but I didn’t care. Her toned and defined body, denies clear, I remember when she was 12 years old and I complimented her girl breasts, so at the end of the night I went to her room and sucked them. I remember when I used to make her dance funk while a hidden camera filmed her, among other fetishes that I’m ashamed to mention. She wasn’t even 14 years old. In everyday life it torments me, but when fucked it makes me go crazy even more, it deceives me to the point where I see not the rebellious teenage daughter, but the sweet and obedient girl of the past. It lasts about an hour and a half. We slept, but at two o’clock I woke up and couldn’t sleep anymore. I cover it with the sheet. I go to my room and lock the door. I reflect heavily. I remember a friend from work who offered me m********, saying that any problem she would dilute and make me forget. I take my secret notebook and review some photos, videos I took with her. There are so many, many I didn’t even remember. The ones that were made when she was under 11 I couldn’t stomach seeing them. I didn’t feel horny watching any, but the videos where she cried buried me (usually the ones I belted when I wanted BDSM). At the time of the horny we only look at our navel. In the other part I will tell you about the beginning…

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