Breed Me Please

My friend owned a mobile home, similar to the round aluminum looking Streamlines. Parked on the side of his house, it was me, her and three of my friends partying, hanging out late into the early morning.With her looking the way she was, surrounded by the four of us late at night is going to inevitably lead to her getting fucked. We'd dated almost about two years at this point and have already enjoyed sharing her in several threesomes. The first time was with one of the guys in "this" group of four. Three other times were with two other close friends of mine, with one of them getting the chance having a second threesome with me, fucking her. Also had the good fortune of fucking her in a FFM threesome, with sexy white girl I dated, off & on, prior to "us" dating.On this particular night, she's wearing a short grey tennis skirt that extends mid thigh, some cute stripe knee high socks. Tight little pair of black booty shorts on her cute petite ass. Black & pink stripe thong panties

Emboldened I reached round and undid her bra, pulling the cups down to reveal her young tits. And what wonderful tits they were; soft, smooth and pert as they stood there without the support of the bra. Eagerly I returned to my sucking and licking and she moaned louder at the touch of my mouth and tongue on her bare young tits.Still touching and kissing her tits, I eased myself down so I was kneeling, and carefully moved between her legs, gently forcing her legs apart as I moved closer so she didn't notice in her excitement.I couldn't resist touching her long sexy legs and I softly slid my hands up the outside of her legs, and then the inside. Her body quivered when I touched her legs and she unconsciously shifted forward in the chair, her body seemingly eager to get closer to me.I slipped my hands up, under her mini skirt and stroked higher on the inside of her soft thighs. My own heart was beating faster now that I was getting closer to my prize. She was wearing matching white

He heard the soft pad of bare foot against the hardwood, and the quiet exhale of someone wandering in the dark at the late hour of the night when people are either sleeping or doing something else.Jacob raised his head from the glass of water he had been nursing, his pulse was steady until she stepped into the kitchen.Emily.His daughter-in-law.Her hair was messy in a way that he had learned, meant that she had been tossing under the sheets for hours. Her shirt was thin, and oversized, clearly stolen from his son’s drawer which clung to her hips and was dipped low enough to tease the soft valley between her breasts.She paused when she saw him.Then she smiled. Soft. Coy. A little too relieved.“You’re awake too,” she whispered.“I could not sleep,” Jacob murmured.It was not a lie.Not when she had been in the guest room down the hall, breathing, moving, and wearing his son’s name but also holding a piece of Jacob’s sanity hostage.Emily moved closer, and the hem of her sleep

Jacob has always imagined that guilt would hit him like a brick that is loud, violent, and impossible to ignore. But when he woke the next morning, sunlight was stretching across the guest room carpet, and the first thing he felt was not guilt. It was the ghost of her. Emily’s scent clung faintly on him, soft and warm, a reminder that he did not dare breathe in, too deeply. Her touch was still lingering on his skin, and it was impossible to shake it even as he sat up and raked a hand through his hair. And the memory of how she had looked when she kissed him was even worse. It was only when he heard the movement downstairs that he came to reality. His son was awake, and Emily was with him. Jacob closed his eyes, his breathing was slow, steady, and controlled. He needed to be calm and to pretend that last night had been some hallucination, a spark of madness. But he knew the truth. He had crossed the line he wasn't supposed to, so did she. And nothing suggested that she re

Jacob had always believed that before a house snapped, it always made a sound like a creak in the walls, a shift in the foundation, and a quiet groan that said the structure wants to give up.He heard that same sound in himself, the moment he walked into the kitchen that afternoon and saw Emily standing at the counter.She turned at the noise of his steps.Her hair was slightly tousled in a way he recognized—not the messy bun she makes whenever she is cooking, but the restless sleep kind.Her oversized shirt, which was clearly borrowed from Alex’s drawer, was dipped low enough to tease the faint valley between her breasts. It clung to her hips in a way that made his breath freeze.She smiled, small and startled, like she had not expected him home early.“Jacob—hey. You’re back sooner than I expected.”He forced a nod. “Traffic was light.”Traffic.What a pathetic lie. He had practically sped home and was shaken by a feeling he couldn’t explain—some instinct telling him that he need