It’s gone. It’s not on your head.”My fingers ran up my sideburns, sweeping past my ears to slide through my short, blond hair, searching for it....I felt nothing. I frowned, my thoughts tumbling. My daughter’s eyes grew wider. She clutched her hands together, her mouth opened.Normally, that mouth just spewed abuse at me. Her lips were plump. “I am so tired of your mouth.”“Dad?” she asked, her voice so strangled.“I’m so tired of how you speak to me. How you act. Like a bitch. Like a whore.” This. Angelica undid my belt and button to my pants, then pulled them down just enough. She leaned on one hand on the floor looking down on me a little with her breasts hanging out and she continued to stroke my cock a little all the way up then all the way down, slowly but intently. She leaned over and took it her mouth again and bobbed up and down a little on it while my hand held one of her breasts in my hand.Then she stopped, and started to climb on top of me. In all my years, nothing remotely. More

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