I looked at her and she had porcelain skin and she had a hungry look in her eyes. She was wet but there was still quite a bit of resistance, I noticed...a wince as I pushed harder into her. She smelled like expensive perfume, and had perfect skin, but the clothes she had on just didn't seem to match her nor did the old truck she was laying on, but those observations really didn't matter to me. I kept pushing in and out of her and I could feel her loosen and get wetter, my balls slapping the. I glanced from one to the other, trying to size up their thoughts. To my dismay, it didn’t work. I sat up straight on the sofa and let the blanket drop to my lap. “What?” I asked anxiously. “What’s wrong?” “Now honey,” my father began, “your mother and I have something we need to tell you. We didn’t want to worry you before your birthday had come, but we have to talk.” “You may be upset,” said my mother, “but we will try to make this work. We promise.” “Make what work?” I asked confusedly.. More

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