An out-of-work wrangler hires on as a field hand and stud, then the woman’s daughter arrives. A mother and daughter sex story.
“Morning,” he said with a smile. “I’m here about the job you advertised, a field hand.”
The woman looked up over her reading glasses at the lean man standing before her desk. “Any experience?”
“Yes,” he said and handed over a sheet of folded paper.
She set it aside. “Let’s go outside. I’m sick of this office.”
She stood and the young man licked his lips and felt his cock quiver. She was a big, healthy woman with a fine rack and a shapely ass, maybe five-ten or so and a good hundred and fifty, he guessed.
He followed her out a side door, admiring her rolling buttocks in her tight britches. She wore short boots and a loose-fitting shirt, open at the throat. Her hair was tied back with a piece of rawhide and flowed richly halfway down her back, red highlights in the chocolate curls.
‘We got about two thousand acres. I assume you can ride.”
“Yes,” he said, stepping up beside her and watching her obviously unfettered breasts jiggle, the nipples sharply defined under the silken shirt. They were more than a handful, those big jugs, high and proud.
“Stop calling me ma’am,” she said with a smile. “I don’t need that. How old are you?”
He told her and found that it was easy to match her stride.
“And you’ve done this kind of work, range hand, wrangler, whatever you want to call it?”
“Yep,” he said. She smelled good too.
“Well, what I need to somebody who can get out and check the fences regularly, move some cattle and a few sheep about as needed to give the grass a rest, keep the machinery running, chase off the varmints, both two and four-legged, all that sort of thing. You any good with a gun, a rifle?”
“Okay,” he said as they strode to a hillock’s rounded top. She pointed and swung her arm in a semi-circle. “Just about as far as you can see. That gully over there, that’s on our land.”
“You manage this yourself, all this?”
She smiled at him and nodded. “Isn’t hard except for finding good help.”
“Pay?” he asked.
She squinted up at his tanned face. “Three hundred a week with a ten percent raise every six months.”
“Two a day, breakfast and supper. You can make your own lunch with what’s in the kitchen, you’ll be away from the house most days.”
“Of course.” She sat on a large, gray flat stone, gestured and he sat beside her. “That reminds me.”
“What does?” he asked, their hips touching.
“Bed. One of your chores is my, what will we call it, my libido I suppose, my sexual needs.”
“You’re not married?”
She nodded. “He ran off, found another woman that was not so demanding I guess. Don’t know where he is. Took all the cash on hand with him, about twelve thousand.”
“Shit,” he said.
“Exactly. So I need a man now and then and don’t want to be moseying around the county seeking companionship. Might cause trouble, you understand? Lot’s a’nosy folks around.”
“Uh huh. Well, I don’t see that as a problem.” He smiled and felt himself starting to be aroused.
“Good. OK, I’d like to see you ride so let’s saddle a couple of horses, and then I like to sample your, your, ah, hm, your,” she laughed.
“My cock,” he said.
She chuckled. “Exactly.”
“My pleasure,” he said.
“Better be mine too.”
So they rode out, the cowboy on a big gray gelding and the woman on a skinny-legged riding horse of good breeding and excellent manners. He rode Western and roughly but he stayed with her even when he had to post. He knew his ass was going to be sore tomorrow. It had been a couple of years.
Back in the barn, they turned their animals out and went toward the big farmhouse, hands touching now and then. She led him up to the back bedroom and snapped back the covers. “My room’s in the front,” she said, standing before him, her hands on his waist, his on her hips, “but this will do, won’t it? This will be your room.”
He bent and captured her mouth. Their tongues met and their hands explored. “Not so fast,” she gasped when she was able to pull back her head. She was smiling. “I’d rather you did not hurry.”
“Yes,” he said, turning away and pulling his shirt over his head. They undressed quickly and she lay atop the bed, bare and on one hip when he turned toward her, wearing just a smile.
“Good God,” she cried when she saw his raring manhood which stood nearly upright, the head purple and the shaft easily as thick as her wrist.
“Think it’ll do?” he asked with a grin.
She licked her lips and nodded as he rolled in beside her. “You like being on top?” he asked
“How did you guess,” she said with a laugh, “but I’m far from ready.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe I can help.” And he bent over her so his head was between her legs, his hands on her knees and his big cock was flopping about near her shoulder.
His tongue did not take long to find her engorged clitoris and soon her outer lips were wet with her lubricating juices as he licked and sucked until she grasped his arm and pulled him away, trying not to look at the huge rod bobbling in her face. It now seemed a lot thicker as well as somewhat longer.
He flopped on his back and held his phallus at its thick and hairy base. “You could have given it a lick.”
“I know, but, well, it’s one of those things.” She swung a long leg across his loins and crouched over him, lips pinched together. He stroked the head of his cock up and down her vulva, and she wiggled her tight-lipped entrance onto the head of his thick shaft.
The big woman grunted and scrunched her eyes closed as she took him slowly into her. She eased herself down and then rocked a bit to get firmly in the saddle with his big hands on her hips. She moved her pelvis to and fro and quivered when she rubbed an especially sensitive area while he just lay still, enjoying the feeling of his cock being caressed fully and warmly and the sight of her jutting breasts and smiling face.
“Ah,” she said, looking down at him and then tossing back her hair. “Ready?”
He nodded and she squeezed him with her knees and they began at a sedate and gentle walking pace, the woman moving up and down on the rigid shaft just an inch or two and the man, rocking his hips up and back so he rubbed at the front of her mound. When he discovered a place that brought a shudder he went back, held her bending to him, and rubbed that area several more times until she moved into a fast trot, urging him with her hands and heels, smiling widely and her eyes closed, her breasts bouncing freely, nipples jutting.
Now their bodies slapped together as she rose and fell and he thrust upward each time she descended, battering at her cervix and sending pain and pleasure messages throughout her body as he filled and stretched her sex as no man had ever done. From trot, they went to canter, and she posted so he had to arch his body upward to thrust into her dripping vagina. The woman was gasping now, just, “Ah, ah, ah,” over and over and the man was breathing hard and concentrating on holding back a growing need to ejaculate by crushing his ass muscles and trying to keep his need for friction under control. He hoped she would not try to gallop. She brought his rough hands to her full breasts and he kneaded them hard, squeezed out her tits.
The woman climaxed with a cry of release, shuddered and spasmed for what seemed minutes as a series of pulses shot through her, and then fell full length on the man beneath her, limber and loose-limbed.
He patted her back. “You on the pill?” he asked as he slowed and then stopped his coital motions, holding his heavy ram fully extended but quite still, his testicles hard and hot, his urge subsiding.
“No, no, I’m sorry,” she said, licking her dry lips. “I stopped some time ago.” Her breathing was ragged. “Damn, Should have thought of that. I’ve got some condoms somewhere. Let me think. Look in the drawer there, by your right hand.”
He fumbled open the drawer and felt around, still thrusting into her depths. “Nope,” he said.
“Shit,” she said as her hips began to move again. “Don’t go away.” She wiggled back off him and his prong jumped up when she pulled free and slapped down on his hairy belly. The woman looked at it, shivered, and then trotted up the hall. He admired her bare buttocks and dripping vulva. He held his balls, feeling the pulse. She was back in a minute or less, got on her knees beside him, and rolled a safety-tip condom down his hard cock, holding the end of the rubber carefully and then stroking to make sure it was tight and air free. The feel of his rigid shaft excited her fully and her pussy trembled. Then she cuddled down beside him and kissed his cheek, nearly purring.
He spread her legs with his knee, lifted her hips, and entered her slowly and deeply, keeping nearly all his weight off of her. She wrapped her legs about his beefy body, and he started slowly but accelerated quickly and brought himself to a highly satisfying orgasm in about three minutes of fierce fucking with the two of them bouncing and writhing on the narrow bed. When he was spent, he gave her a few more long thrusts and then rolled to his back with the woman still impaled on his well-spent cock, feeling eviscerated.
She pushed herself up on her extended arms, sat on his hips, and then rolled away and got her feet on the floor and sat by his legs. “Job’s yours if you want it,” she said.”
“Hell of an interview,” he said. “How about four hundred to start?”
She sucked her teeth. “$350’s best I can do right now.”
He grasped her right hand, pulled her to him, and kissed her firmly and deeply. “It’s a deal,” he said, releasing her.
“Oh,” she said as she picked up her underpants and stepped into them, “one other thing. There’s my daughter, she’s away at school, a nice girl, eighteen. Hope you’ll… hope you’ll stay away from her. You know what I mean.”
“Eighteen?” he said. “Jailbait. I promise.”
“Wait till you see her.”
The girl arrived in a big SUV with three young males. They helped her unload her stuff and then she hugged each of them and they drove away, waving. I carried her bags up to her room and we introduced ourselves. She said her name was Ginger.
If Ginger was eighteen as her mother had told me, she was the most well-developed 15-year-old he had ever seen, and he was quickly aroused, his eager cock jumping and swelling.
“Where’s my mother?” she asked, zipping open a bag.
“Went into town, said something about a lawyer.” He tried not to think about how she would look naked.
She nodded, tossing clothes on her bed. “And you’re the new hand, eh?”
“Yep,” he said, admiring her round ass in her tiny denim shorts.
“Think you’re the biggest one so far. You are screwing her, aren’t you?”
“Beg your pardon?” he said.
“Come on. I know she needs it. She’s worn out three men since I’ve figured out what’s going on.”
He chuckled, trying to guess her bra size and keep his cock under control at the same time. “Well, it’s not your business. I don’t play kiss and tell.”
“Oh, a gentleman,” she said, coming to stand right in front of him with her hands on her hips, her big jugs pointed out at his ribs in her tight t-shirt. “And I suppose she told you to stay away from me.”
He smiled and nodded, and she jumped up, got her arms about his neck, and kissed him open mouthed. Then she slid down to the floor, patted his bulging groin, and said, “Good luck.”
He left quickly, feeling sweat on his forehead, and went back to chores out in the barn. Her mother returned in an hour or so and he saw them again at supper. The girl was still wearing her chopped-off t-shirt and tiny shorts and her mother, for some reason, was looking amused. “You met?” she said as she sat down.
“Yep, sure did,” he said.
“How’s it going with that old baler?” she asked as the cook brought in the food.
“Beyond my abilities. Think you’ll probably have to buy a new one or invest more in that old thing. How long have you had it?”
A horn sounded out in the yard and Ginger shoved in a forkful and said, “Got to run.”
“Sit down,” said her mother. “They’ll wait.”
Ginger snorted but sat and ate rapidly, chewing and swallowed as the horn sounded again.
“Go tell them to knock it off,” the woman said to him with a wave toward the barnyard.
He used his napkin, went out back, and found a dusty Jeep wagon with four young men in it. “She’ll be right out. No more horn beeping. Come to the door and knock.”
“Fuck you, old man,” yelled the boy at the back window, his baseball cap on backward. He grabbed the front of the astonished young man’s shirt and pulled him out through the open window and deposited him among the chicken droppings. The boy scrambled upholding his wrist as Ginger appeared.
She helped him back in the car, glared at the tall man, got in beside the boy, and the Jeep fishtailed down the driveway and out to the road.
“Everything all right?” the woman asked when he resumed his seat at the dinner table.
“Yep,” he said. “Four boys out there. No manners.”
“It’s peculiar but I’ve never asked her,” the woman said. “I don’t think she has ever dated one boy, been somebody’s steady as we used to call it.”
“Pretty girl,” he said.
“And popular,” said her mother. “Let’s go look at that baler.”
Out in the shed they looked at the old machine, engine parts spread out on a piece of canvas. “I tried new ignition wiring and new plugs, it runs, but no power. Want me to pull the head?”
“No, I think you’re right. I’ll call for the distributor to come out and tell me what I can get as a trade-in. The new one’ll probably run four or five thousand. Put it back together.”
He stood and faced her. “How we going to work this now that she’s home. By the way, she knows you have sex with the hired help.”
She lifted an eyebrow and clenched her lips. “Not surprised. She’s got a quick mind. She’ll graduate next year at sixteen. We’ll find the time.” She headed back toward the house and he reassembled the old self-propelled string-baler’s engine.
By the time he got finished it was pretty late, and while he buttoned up the old machine and wiped it clean, he felt somebody watching me. He turned and there stood Ginger in the doorway, hair blowing in the breeze.
“You’re working late?” she said.
He smiled at her. “Are you’re home early or do you have a curfew?”
She lifted her chin and sniffed. “What’re you doing?”
“Trying to fix the old baler.”
“That boy I hauled out of the wagon, he OK?”
She smiled. “Hurt his feelings. I’m sure he deserved it. He’s got a smart mouth.”
“How come, if you don’t mind me asking, how come you’re going out with a bunch of guys instead of just one?”
“You’re bad as my mother. It’s my business.”
“OK,” he said. “Just thought it was, you know, kind of strange.”
She snorted and then came in under the work light and hopped up on the old bench, displaying her long, lean legs, the top button of her shorts undone. “Since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you.”
He stood, wiping his hands on an old rag, and admiring the young beauty. She was about five-six he guessed and maybe 120 or so, all of it prime with a good ass and a great set of jugs which, as far as he could tell, were bouncing freely under her thin shirt. Her legs went on forever.
“It’s like this,” she said, not looking right at the man, “I haven’t found a single boy that satisfies me, that can satisfy me. Or a man either for that matter.”
He waited, tempted to ask several questions. She recrossed her legs the other way and leaned back, exhaling.
“Three years ago,” she said, “when I was twelve . . .”
Her mother called from the house and she hopped down, said, “Tell you tomorrow” and trotted away, saying, “Maybe” as she got to the doorway. Her rounded buttocks moved like well-oiled machinery.
He went and sat on the back porch, drank a beer, and pretty soon the woman joined him, a beer bottle in her hand. “She’s tired. Long ride today.”
“I asked her about those group dates.”
“Did you? And?”
“I was surprised. She started to tell me and then you called. She said something happened when she was twelve.”
“I’ve suspected she was raped. But she wouldn’t tell me. I was dating a man back then who might have humped her, just out of meanness because I wouldn’t let him into my bed.”
“You want to do it tonight?” he asked, hopeful, aware that the girl had riled him some. He could still see her hips sway and her boobs jiggle.
“Uh uh,” she said, “maybe in the morning, early. She’s a sound sleeper but we tend to get a bit noisy.”
They sat quietly, watching the fireflies, finished their beers and went to their separate beds.
No sooner had he pissed and rolled under the covers, wearing just an undershirt, than the door opened a crack and the girl tiptoed in and sat on the side of his bed. She put her hand on his leg. “Where were we? Oh, well, yes, when I was twelve.”
“Go to bed Ginger. You’ll get me in trouble.” He could see from the tiny light in the hall that she was wearing a football jersey as a nightshirt.
“But I want to tell you, to tell somebody.”
“I’m tired. Tell me tomorrow.”
“And you’re a flirt. Go to bed.”
“What’s wrong with this one?” she said with a smile and she flipped back his thin blanket. “Oh,” she said, “Oh god!” She pulled the covers back and ran from the room. It amused him that she and her mother had cried about the same thing when they saw his cock for the first time.
He chuckled, reached down and petted his long member, tousled his balls, and then lay back and slept. Early in the morning, right after sunup, he tiptoed down the hall, past the girl’s room with its closed door to the woman’s bedroom at the front of the house, his eager ram leading the way. She stretched as he entered and smiled at him. His cock was up, well above the horizontal despite its blood-engorged weight, and he brought it right to her mouth.
She licked its huge, hot head and tossed back her covers, spreading her legs. He mounted her quickly and sank his whole thick rod in her, arching up and admiring her lush body as he put his fists by her ears. Then they enjoyed the morning together, rocking and rolling as they say until they were spent.
The girl came down for breakfast as he went out to get to work with no more than a wave to her, hardly noticing how she was dressed.
Ten minutes later, out she came, munching on a piece of toast. “Hey,” she said, “Ma says the ground’s still too wet for you to plow up the kitchen garden.
“Got to get those seeds in soon,” he said, turning to face her. He nearly choked.
She had taken her scissors to an old t-shirt and trimmed away at it until the bottom stood out from her nipples and displayed the underside of her globular breasts. Below lay a lot of the girl’s stomach and some belly and her deep navel and tiny shorts, the top button was undone.
“Those probably used to fit you,” he said, eying her boyish hips.
She smiled. “They’re comfortable.”
“Don’t look it,” he said, noted her split lower lips which bulged invitingly around the tight seam of her shorts.
“She wants me to show you where the fence’s down, back along the County road.” She rolled out a four-wheel ATV and twisted it into action. “Come on, give you a ride. Get the gas.”
He filled the tank, screwed the top back on, and slid onto the wide seat behind the girl, noticing her knobby spine and the curved display of her upper ass. Down the lane, she roared and he had to circle her with his arms or get tossed off. Her big jugs bounced off his forearms and her butt wiggled back against his groin as she crossed a field, went down a steep hillside, and skidded to a halt where the two-lane road lay. The fence was lying nearly flat, probably from some stupid cows leaning on it to get at fresh grass. He was surprised one or more of them had not wandered out and gotten killed by a passing pickup.
The girl dismounted, smiled at him, her nipples obviously hard, took a beach towel out of the small trunk, and trotted up the hill, a cloth-covered water bottle in her hand. “I’m going to get some sun.”
An hour or so later, with the broken posts set aside and most of the rusty wire, rolled up; he jogged up the hill and found the water hung in the shade.
The girl lay on her belly, naked, completely bare assed, reading a paperback book, her chin on her rolled-up clothes. She wiggled out a small bottle of lotion from the pocket of her shorts and called, “Come, do me a favor.”
He took the sunscreen, ignoring his incipient erection as best he could, squirted it on her back, and rubbed it around, doing her rounded buttocks as well as her smooth back.
“Need anything else?” he asked.
She turned her head, smiled, and pulled up her knees, raising her ass and wiggling, displaying her tight-lipped and nearly hairless sex. “You got the time?”
He smacked her butt sharply, a really good, loud whack. “You are one mean bitch,” he said as he went back to work.
“Chicken” she yelled after him.
Her mother soon arrived, the bucket of her small tractor full of new fenceposts. She dumped her load and asked, “Where is she?”
He pointed. “Sunning herself.”
She raised an eyebrow and climbed the hill. He heard some right loud conversation while he dug postholes and then the girl trotted down and drove off on her ATV without looking at him.
“I guess you can resist temptation,” the woman said with a smile.
“Usually,” he said, “but not forever.”
“She certainly has a fine little body.”
“Doesn’t she,” he said, undoing the wide belt of her Levis.
“Need a reward for your virtue?” she asked as he yanked down her zipper.
“No, just a break from handling barbed wire.” He pulled down her britches and underpants and let them hang over her boots, turned her to face the other way, freed his hard ram, and eased it up into her as she grasped the tractor seat and leaned forward.
“Ahh,” she cried as he sank it a half-foot into her and held it there, jumping and throbbing, his mind blank while his cock flexed and throbbed. She could not spread her feet very widely and felt a lot tighter than the last time he had taken her this way. He eased it back, feeling her muscles restrain his big-headed manhood, and then thrust hard and deep, bringing her up on her toes.
“Not so fast,” she grunted as he reached up and grasped her full breasts.
He went slowly and gently until she was hot and wet and began groaning and gasping, then they got going full speed, both of them exhaling with each ram. The heavy Kaboda tractor actually moved with each of his thrusts, rocking on its tight springs.
“Yes, yes, yes, damn you, yes,” she cried when she came, and he jolted her with his pumps of jism soon after that. They slowed, still clamped together, and then pulled apart.
She turned, smiled at him, pulled up her clothes and got back on her tractor, and drove off with a wave while he was still gasping for breath, his hands on his knees, long cock dripping and sore.
That night the girl came to his bed again in just her football jersey. She left the door open so there was a bit of light, sat beside him, her hand on his leg and they had a quiet conversation around midnight.
She sniffed, “When I was twelve, that summer, Ma was romancing this guy, a car dealer, greasy and rich, and, well, one day he came by and she wasn’t home, just me. So he started flirting and I started flirting and leading him on and, well, we went too far and he ended up on top of me right on the dining room rug. And, well it hurt and I cried and he called me a slut and left. So I cleaned up the mess on the rug and didn’t tell anybody.”
“You’re not the first,” he said.
She sniffed again. “Anyhow, when I started letting boys do it last winter, you know, after a lot of cocksucking and stuff,” she sighed, “anyhow, it’s no good.” She shook her head. “No good at all.”
He held his peace, finding nothing to say.
“The boys, they seem to enjoy it, but, well, I don’t. I pretend to, you know, but I don’t like it and I don’t get off.”
“Can you bring yourself to a climax with your fingers?” he asked very quietly.
“Sometimes,” she said, “and I use things, a carrot, toothbrush handle, you know.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Uh uh, nope.”
“So you do two or three boys, one right after the other?”
“Sometimes more. I’ve done five a couple of times.”
“Can you help me?”
“I’ll talk to your mother.”
“Oh shit,” she said.
“Do they come pretty quick, these boys; I mean most of them?” He eased his left hand up along her bare hip.
“Uh huh. I don’t think any of them last even a minute.”
“How do you do it, I mean usually?”
“On my back, missionary, always the same.”
“Let’s try something, an experiment, OK?” He rolled to his back, tossed off the covers, and held his stalk at its hairy base. It was pretty hard, maybe not fully engorged, but well past tumescent, and it stood up proudly, it’s head the size of a duck egg, the veins pulsing.
She looked at him and at it and blinked. “Lord,” she said.
“Come on, climb up here, and mount this thing. I want to see what you feel like inside.”
“I’m not sure I can,” she said, crouching at his knees and staring at the fat head of his big prick. She licked her lips and then bent forward and mouthed his glans, getting it covered with saliva. Then she crawled forward, rose up on her knees, grasped the hard shaft, and got the rounded cockhead between her nether lips. She trembled, surprised she was frightened.
He reached down and grabbed her lean hips, lifted her up slightly, and then eased her down on the thick stake which reared up in her slit. They wordlessly wiggled and adjusted some and it popped in.
“Oh god,” she said and trembled.
It was barely an inch in and held there by her tight vagina. Her eyes were closed and he could hear her gritting her teeth. “Ease on down,” he urged, arching up and becoming aware of things opening before his blunt-headed ram.
“I can’t,” she sobbed as she lurched upward and then sat down and it all went right up into her. She gasped.
It sure felt odd to the man, like a tight sleeve that quivered and rolled about his cock. He pulled her down so her head was on his shoulder and held her buttocks.
“You OK?” he asked.
They just lay there, his thick spar jumping and flexing, trying to get deeper. Her knees moved to and fro a bit alongside his legs. He rubbed her back some, his hand under her jersey.
“That’s wonderful,” she sighed after a few minutes.
“You’re awful tight.” He tried to move in and out a couple of times but stopped when he felt himself nearing a climax.
“Uh huh. I’ve never felt anything like this inside me.”
“What I think is maybe you should wait until you grow some, get bigger; that ought to make it easier for men to love you.”
“Hah,” she said rather loudly and he shushed her. “Hah, you just don’t want to do it.”
“Oh yes I do, but I told your mother I wouldn’t.”
“But here you are fucking me,” she said in a whisper.
“No, I’m not.”
“How about if I fuck you?”
“You can try,” he said, excited by the idea.
She wiggled back so only about half his hot ramrod was in her, pushed down on his chest, and sat up whereupon he filled her again and she winced. He lifted his knees behind her and reached up under her shirt to briefly caress her firm breasts.
She began to move up and down on his thick rod, just an inch or so and very slowly, her hands on her thighs and her chin up, eyes closed. It felt very good to both of them.
“Lean forward some,” he said, holding her at the shoulders.
She nodded and then started rocking a bit faster. “Um,” she sighed, “that’s awful good.”
She ground them together and started jerking to and fro, her big breasts bobbling beneath her football jersey. He was tempted to strip her and get his hands on those beauties, but instead held her butt and let her work.
Her breathing started to get ragged as she went faster and then it seemed to be just exhaling and suddenly she gasped, stiffened, and cried out with a long wailing “Ahhh.”
“That ought to do it,” said her mother who was standing in the doorway.
“How long have you been watching?” he asked, still holding her bucking daughter on his well-pleased member and feeling his balls begin to surge.
“Long enough,” she said with a smile.
The girl collapsed down on him, sobbing and clawing. He regained control of his cock and held back, stifling the need to ejaculate.
“She had a problem,” the man said, embarrassed.
“I’d hate to fire you,” the woman said. “But you promised.”
“Oh Mama,” the girl cried. “It was my idea, I screwed him. He refused to fuck me. Now I know, I know, we figured it out.”
“Well, it’s late. Let’s talk about it in the morning.”
The girl nodded and pulled herself off my still-hard prick and tumbled out of bed, pulling down her jersey.
“Good night,” the woman said, pushing the girl down the hall and closing the door behind her, ignoring the glistening rod poking up from my belly hair.
After breakfast the three of them sat in her office and talked. The girl mostly listened. So did he. In the end, the girl agreed to stop going out with groups of boys and letting them use her body. Her mother agreed that she could go away to college if she kept that promise. The two women agreed that they would share the young man’s sexual efforts, the girl no more than once a week.
And they lived happily ever after, it says here.
COW HAND is a mother and daughter sex story presented by eroticprose.com. The home of sexy stories and Literotica.