It was their throne of glory. Glory of how much money they had. It was a dream house, the kind people walk through and dreamed about. Three stories, c...ean carpets, newly painted walls, a confusing lay out that would get Christopher Colombus lost, stairs every where, chairs no one was allowed to sit in, abstract paintings that looked like a mental patients did them, tables with a layout of frame pictures and candles, oriental rugs, sculpture of retarded tribe men, hard wood floors made to make. One day i brought statue worth of 2000 rs which i kept on the table and i went to bath in the evening time at that time no one was in house all went to cosuins marraige n would return in night then laxmi come in and was cleaning at that time when she was cleanig she had broken my statue and she took some 8 rs which were kept on the table after i came out the bathroom n dressend she was in the kitchen i obsreved that the statue was broken out of anger i called her asked abt the thing she told. “Please,” I asked her. “Please call me Brian.”She shook her head.“No way! You’re my Daddy. My filthy old pervert Daddy and I’m your little girl. You love being a filthy old fucking i****tuous pervert, Daddy?”“Yes,” I said feeling another orgasm building inside me.”“Tell me!”“Oh my little girl,” I said. “Oh my dirty little girl, my fucking little whore daughter.”“Yes!”“Oh yes! Ride me you filthy bitch! Ride Daddy’s cock you dirty little fucker.”“Yes, Daddy. I’m fucking riding you. How. His hands were squeezing and pulling on them. The cock in my hand was getting bigger and harder.I think four songs passed by me as I got my pussy pounded and the penis in my hand was rock hard and really thick. ‘Wait a minute here, Sammie, you’re not behind the high school now.’ My little voice again whispered.“Oh baby, this is so sweet.” The voice behind me. My pussy felt him hit the bottom over and over. His pelvis slapping against my ass cheeks. Where was the pleasure? ‘Careful Sammie, don’t.
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