It was after two in the afternoon, and the streets were full of pedestrians coming and going, not to mention the traffic. hermosa was startled, and when she pushed Brent out of the way, her heart was beating out of order and her face was burning, but not from the sun. "What are you doing?" Hermosa pretended to scold him, but her heart was sweet, like the ice-cream that melted into sweet sugary water in the sun, "There are so many people here, what if the other parents see?" "I just want them to see." Brent said matter-of-factly. He came to pick up his children with Hermosa almost every day, and it was obvious to him that several of the male strangers looked at Hermosa with something more than a hint of innocence in their eyes. Hermosa himself had been aware of this for a long time and knew what Brent was jealous about, but he couldn't say anything when people just looked at him. "Are you that vindictive?" Hermosa laughed helplessly and raised his hand to slap Brent on the forehead
After the evening meal, the other relatives went home and Micky and Jeffrey drove their girlfriends home, leaving Brent and his family to stay over at his parents' house. Elisa was called to bed by her grandparents in the master bedroom to read her a whole storybook. So Hermosa and Brent lay together in what used to be his bedroom, cuddling and closing their eyes, but no one could sleep. Hermosa was mostly surprised. She still can hardly believe that she has integrated herself into Brent's home. At the party today, Brent's parents didn't mention the two of them outright, but it was clear that they thought Hermosa was part of their family. The others, too, seem to have taken the same view, wishing Hermosa and Brent every happiness. When they heard she was pregnant again, the grandparents and Simona were overjoyed, asking her questions and explaining what she should eat during her pregnancy. Evan didn't say a word, but when they had finished talking, he came over to her and asked he
"Since you won't fuck me, I'll have to do it myself."Hermosa pulled her panties forward, allowing Brent to lift his head and kiss himself. Their lips and tongues were wetly intertwined, parting with a tangled and erotic silver lining, "Comfortable, husband?"Hermosa's voice was husky and sticky, and when it rang in Brent's ears, the warm breath and vibrations of her vocal chords felt like they were reaching directly into her chest."Fuck."Brent was so turned on by her that he took a deep breath but refused to let go of the fuck and simply let Hermosa ride himself, swinging his hips slowly as he whimpered and stroked herself.But Hermosa's movements were far too light.As if in retaliation for Brent's excessive gentlemanliness and tenderness, Hermosa keeps her movements so minimal that they feel like an itch on Brent's boot, a torture rather than a relief from his desire.Hermosa is still smiling, admiring Brent's lust-stricken expression, his fingers teasingly stroking the knot in h
1.The ink-dipped pen scratched the paper, leaving behind a thick line. The hand gripping the pen was tightly squeezed, controlling the nearly imperceptible quivering of the nib. When he reached the final box labelled 'Experimental Data,' his handwriting dramatically deteriorated, the ink smearing across the white paper. Brent frowned and tore the paper out, crumbling it into a ball and throwing it in the trash. He turned his head and saw his phone screen light up with a message alert, accompanied by a “ding”. It was the surveillance software alerting him, "Biological activity detected, click to view surveillance footage." Outside, there was a knock at the door. It must be Mrs. Sala from across the street again, delivering her papaya salad, having been turned down three times in a row, as if she didn't understand how much Brent hated human contact, especially face-to-face contact. This bores Brent Keith. People react to seeing him in one of two ways: shock and amazement, f
Brent suddenly felt thirsty. His fingers on the armrest of the wheelchair twitched absently. He saw Elisa grab the woman's breasts which were like a small, tender dove and take a big suck on the nipple, her fleshy cheeks puffing out. "Haah... Uugh..." Hermosa seemed to be sore and gave a low moan, "Ohhh...Eat slowly, you're teething ......" She was breastfeeding. No wonder. This evening, the woman had volunteered to cook for Brent. He didn't refuse and even made a friendly gesture of asking if she needed something to eat. The woman suddenly blushed, equivocated and said "No... sir ..." Brent knew that with a few extra shots of empty pregnancy prolactin a woman could produce more breast milk even in some extreme cases, breast milk could replace food. But this child in front of him was past the age of breastfeeding in any case, not to mention that these were not war-torn times when food was scarce. What on earth was this child to her? At first, Brent thought she was her
"Sir." Hermosa was unaware of Brent's presence for a short while. She covered Elisa in a nice bath towel and stood with her back to the shadows as if she were expecting that the small amount of darkness might conceal anything for her. “Sir just…Excuse me, please." Hermosa said cautiously after a moment's silence, seeing that Brent had no intention of giving in. Brent then realized that his wheelchair was solidly in Hermosa's way. He backed away a little and heard Hermosa say in a low voice, "Thank you." "Hm." Brent responded, noticing that Elisa was staring at him with those big, unblinking eyes that looked so much like her mother's, innocent and clueless, and like she had seen his mind deeply. Brent looked away. "Elisa, don't look at Brent uncle like that, it's not polite honey," Hermosa whispered to the child with a slight sense of reproach. Looking somewhat apologetically at Brent, "I'm taking Elisa back to the room, good night, sir." She finished with a cautious
Either Hermosa should get to her knees and try to suck him off, or she should purse her lips in time like she really wants a deep kiss. Then, Brent would have had the opportunity to treat him badly, call her a bitch, or 'punish' her as he desired. But there was nothing, and Hermosa took Brent's fingers in stride, her lips spilling out in crystalline saliva as her teeth were pried open and stirred around the soft tongue. Would this make her feel funny? Seducing a man and then watching him go crazy over himself with lust. "Oooh ...... Brent, sir ......" Brent was pulled back to reality by Hermosa's pleading voice. He dropped his eyes and saw Hermosa's teary eyes filled with begging, those lips were already swollen with her own, her lipstick woefully melting away. His own fingers were being wrapped around her soft tongue, even if it didn't make him comfortable to do so. Brent withdrew his hand and wiped the saliva and tart juice from it with a tissue, "Sweet?" Hermosa
Los Angeles is a city that never sleeps, where the lights of the bars, clubs, and adult shows don't go out until dawn. Hermosa gets off the bus and walks around the villas, observing the puppies snoozing in front of each house and the couples holding hands in the morning breeze with their windows open, and realizes she doesn't belong there. Her nose was suddenly a little sour. She raised her hand and rubbed her eyes toward Brent's residence. Two days earlier, her fingerprints had been taken so that she could enter without disturbing him. However, before she reached the door, she sensed an inquisitive glance behind her. It was the wife of the family across the street, short, fat and amiable, her permed hair hooped up with a coloured hairband, creating a strong visual clash with the colourful cardigan she was wearing."Excuse me, what can I do for you?" Hermosa asked politely as she walked over."Are you Mr. Brent Keith's relative?" The neighbour’s wife inquired inquisitively. S