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She relaxed into the massage, letting herself drift in a warm bath of sensation. His hands seemed to evoke warmth everywhere in her body; hadn’t she heard something about there being parts of the foot that were connected to the rest of the body? She couldn’t remember. In fact, it was hard to remember much of anything but the feeling of his hands on her feet. She was so relaxed, she thought she might fall asleep. The drifting sensation was soothing, like floating on waves of warm water…She realized he was no longer massaging her feet. She lay still, feeling the afterglow of the massage. Idly, she wondered where he would touch her next, but it didn’t seem terribly important. She wondered why he’d felt the need to incorporate handcuffs into the experience. Then there were swift clicks, and her ankles were bound, as locked in place as her hands.Suddenly, before she could start to analyze this change, there was a touch on her inner thigh. It wasn’t his hand, nor his tongue, nor … what was. "Whoa!" Charlotte growled, struggling to mount me. "Where do you think you're going? We're not done yet!" Recognizing what she was planning to do, I attempted to throw her naked body off of my hard on. However, Charlotte dug her light pink nails into my biceps causing my train of thought to derail and my muscles to flinch. With two wild thrusts, I ended up inside of my daughter's tight, hot pink pussy. I almost couldn't contain myself when she started riding my cock like she was milking a cow. Her little pussy was delicately shaved while my monster was barbarically lined with thick brown hair. A wicked smile came across her face as Charlotte howled her thankfulness to me and my "huge fucking dick." Then, with a calm sigh, she rolled off of me and went on all fours. Not breaking my wide eyed stare with the ceiling fan, I started stroking myself so I didn't lose my excitement. "Why did you get off?" I asked in a desperate tone, still stroking myself. "Did I gross you out?" "Of course.
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