Mag-log in"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I promise I will delete those pictures, and I won't do that again." Mr. Vincent said. He felt ashamed, realizing how far he had fallen from the image of the responsible father and businessman he tried to project. "Better, because I'm here now to do things they couldn't do for you." She said, looking deep into his eyes. She didn't back down; instead, she moved closer until her wet shirt was brushing lightly against his chest. "You don't need them again. Once we are done fucking our brains out, you can go ahead and wipe them off your phone." Mr. Vincent couldn't believe that her daughter's best friend was saying all that. He never knew she was that naughty. He had been seeing her as just an innocent girl who comes over to her best friend's house for sleepovers and movies, but the woman standing in front of him now was a predator, and he was standing like her prey. As much as he wanted to fuck her right there, the thought of her daughter a
Mr. Vincent was on a call, discussing some business logistics with a business partner when he heard a soft knock on his door.. "The door is open. You can come in." He answered without turning around. He knew it was Emily. Emily pushed the door and stepped inside. She carried the laundry basket in front of her, but she held it low enough to ensure her chest was the first thing he would see. As he turned to say something, the words died in his throat. His eyes dropped instantly to the front of her shirt. The wet fabric was almost transparent, clinging to the round, heavy curves of her breasts like a second skin. Every breath she took made her chest rise and fall in a way that was impossible to ignore. He stopped talking mid-sentence as his gaze fixed on the dark circles of her areolae visible through the soaked cloth. He was so distracted that the person on the other end of the line had to call his name twice before he snapped back to reality. "Yes... Yes… I will take a good look a
"But they are not that big." Mr. Vincent said, flexing his arms and checking them out. He let out a small breath, looking down at his biceps as if he were evaluating his progress. The way the muscle bunched under his skin made Emily’s pulse quicken, but she kept her face steady. "Sandra said the event has a dress code. You didn't tell me." Emily said as she leaned against a weight bench, crossing her arms so that her own chest was pushed up slightly, drawing his eyes without being too obvious about it. "Ohhh! Yes, I forgot to tell you. You have a red dress, right? I think it's among the dress code." He picked up a water bottle and took a long sip. His Adam's apple moved up and down in a way that Emily found incredibly attractive. It was funny how she found almost everything about him attractive. "Why do I love everything about him." She soliloquized while staring at him. "Yes, Sandra told me." She replied. "Though I don't have red shoes, I planned on buying them with the
Emily got to the laundry room and put the clothes in the washing machine, leaving the underwear. She wanted to wash it with her hand. She felt that his most personal items shouldn't just be tossed into a machine. As she filled a small bucket with warm water and soap, she felt a thrill running through her fingers. Holding his underwear made her feel a strange sense of intimacy, as if she was already part of his private life. While the machine was working, she was washing the underwear. She took her time, making sure she washed it very well. She scrubbed the fabric gently as her mind wandered back to the scene she had witnessed through the keyhole. She remembered the big size and how strong it looked as she rinsed the fabric. After washing, she put all of it, including the clothes, into the dryer. She waited for thirty minutes before taking them out. She dumped all the clothes into the basket again and made her way to her room. She needed to iron the clothes before taking them b
Sandra was coming out of the kitchen when she saw Emily carrying her father's basket with a glowing smile on her face. The basket was heaped high with clothes, and Emily was holding it with both hands. She doesn't need any prophet to tell her that Emily was carrying her father's clothes.But where was she taking them to? Sandra stood there with a glass of orange juice in her hand, looking confused. "Emily." She called, and Emily turned. "Oh! Sandra. You are here. Good morning." Emily greeted with an uncontrollable excitement. Her voice was full of a strange energy that Sandra hadn't seen since she visited. She looked like she had just won a prize."Where are you taking my father's basket to?" She asked, coming closer to her. She looked down at the basket and saw a dark blue silk shirt. "That looks like my dad’s favorite shirt.""Yeah, I'm taking them to the laundry room. I want to wash his clothes." Emily replied and adjusted her grip on the heavy basket."Wash his clothes? My dad ha
"I will fuck you so hard, Emily… I will make you scream my name… Yesssss!” He moaned, stroking himself faster. The sound of his voice, thick with lust and desperation, sent a jolt through her entire body. Emily increased her pace as well, matching Mr. Vincent. Every moan from inside the bathroom was like a command to her body. She imagined his strong, big dick replacing her tiny finger. She imagined him pulling her hair back and fucking her just like the man in the video last night. “Ah… Emily…” he groaned with a thick voice. “Fuck, baby! I’m going to cum so hard for you. Yess… Take it… take my hot cum, Emily…” He growled, and Emily bit down on her lip to keep from moaning out. With a final, shuddering jerk, his dick erupted, and he began to shoot his hot cum at the wall. Emily kept her eyes on him until his breathing slowed and turned lazy before he let his hand fall away. He stood there for a moment with his head bowed, looking down at the screen of his phone, where her pictu







