Chestnut hair, radiant and shining, swished with every move she made. My eyes locked on full, round breasts that had clearly been sculpted by God and ...not a cosmetic surgeon. The tips swept saucily upwards, topped by rosy nipples begging to be kissed.They were perfectly proportioned to her slender body, soft but firm. Her tummy was trim and her skin clear and unblemished, a perfect canvas for the neatly trimmed brown tuft at her groin sparse enough to give a tantalizing glimpse of a pink furrow. That morning I had woken up feeling old and it was a feeling that stuck with me throughout the morning, Marina, my daughter, had made breakfast just before shooting off to college and I had stood staring out the kitchen window at the pouring rain.It would have been a typical Friday had it not been for it being my fortieth birthday. It was as I had that thought that I realised that my daughter hadn't wished me a happy birthday. I put it down to her being in such a rush, not wanting to believe. Angel blinks at the number again to make sure she's not imagining it, that there isn't another digit that she just overlooked.Nope.97. Holy shit.This number is on her PornHub profile, just below the picture of her standing naked in front of a swimming pool on a beautiful cloudless summer day, naked except for a pink thong hanging off her left ankle, one hand running through her buzz cut pink hair while the other is plunged deep inside her pussy. The number means that she is now one of the. So I slapped the other side – then back again. She let out a breath but did not move.At my urging Jasmin had brought a few of her toys. I was particularly interested in the long leather paddle. “Lie on your stomach on the bed– let’s try out some of these toys!” She eagerly assumed the position. I picked up the paddle and hit her beautiful ass hard. No sound and little reaction from her, so I did it harder. Again and again. Mostly on her bubble butt, alternating between the cheeks. Her butt.