On the way back to the motel, I texted my daughter to find somewhere to go for thirty minutes. She understood what I'm asking and replies, "You're gro...ss. You're too old to screw." We're only forty-seven years old, but must seem ancient to a sixteen-year-old.I told her she was being mean, to which she replied, "You would probably break something." Why did I have to raise such a smart-ass?In about five minutes, we got back to our motel, where we were met by our daughter and dog. I handed her the. Of course I wasn’t in a hurry. No, of course not! ‘Wonder what the women will do this weekend?’ ‘Kate mentioned maybe a movie or dinner.’ ‘Abby said lots of shopping. Glad they seem to get along so well.’ I watched until the car turned the corner and was out of sight before I pulled on Abby’s hand. ‘Hallelujah! There’re gone.’ Undressed, standing by the bed, we changed the sheets, putting something more feminine than the solid dark brown ones that Bob always insisted we sl**p on. She shook the. I feel my cock starting to rise up again anew as I see her erect tits jiggling as she walked sensuously in front of me.She grabbed my cock , a little forcefully, but instead of pain, I felt my cock grow fatter and longer with her hand wrapped around it. Her hand around my cock. And I couldn’t touch her, I can’t… The ecstasy of repression!I mentioned that Sophie was a gymnast. I remembered because she started lifting her right leg up, straight into the air, spreading her wet pussy and. I'd remodeled a police station in a small town and kept all the old jail cells. I'd installed some of them in this house, and they were about to become the girls permanent homes.The kitchen was my next port of call. I figured I'd eat something and drink a couple of brews to get over the anxiety, then go check out the fresh meat. I opened a can of ravioli and heated it in the microwave. Parmesan cheese sounded like a good idea, so I sprinkled some on, and shoved it back in the microwave to warm,.