Chapter 8
Struck dumb with shock, his jaw slack, his eyes bulging, Alex Burkheimer stared helplessly at the incredible sight of his daughter, naked, strung up to the basement ceiling, and flanked by two equally naked boys, one of whom brandished a blatant erection, as well as a belt with which he obviously had been beating the girl.
Burkheimer was about fifty, a rather tall man, thickening now around the waist. His brown hair was greying rapidly, as was the thick mustache which gave him a somewhat bristly look. This was offset, though, by the glasses which seemed to run in his family. At the moment his mouth was working reflexively, but he was making only a low choking sound.
The surprised boys gazed back at him, as frozen as he. The first reaction came from Jane, who upon seeing her father gave a cry of fear and shame, and tried helplessly to turn herself away from him.
At last Burkeimer was able to speak. "Take her down," he got out, his voice sounding hoarse and trembling with rage.
Chuck swallowed, thinking fast. "Look, Mr. Burkheimer," he said quickly. "We can explain all this. See, it's just-"
Burkheimer suddenly charged across the room toward them. "Take her down!" he shouted. Chuck put up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Sure. Okay." He got the chair Joe had stood on, mounted it and quickly undid the rope, letting the girl down gradually. She sank to the floor. Joe, dropping the belt, went to her and fumbled with the rope around her wrists until he got it loose. He was shaking with nervousness. Chuck jumped down. Jane had tried to rise, but her legs wouldn't hold her. She lay huddled into a ball, her back to her father, sobbing.
Burkheimer was shaking too, but with shock and anger. "Monsters!" he shouted. "You dirty-" "Listen, Mr. Burkheimer," Chuck said desperately. "Just let me-"
"Shut up!" Burkheimer exploded. "Filth! Perverts!" His face was mottled, his breath coming hard. "I'm calling the police!" he declared, and turned, moving toward the stairs.
Chuck rushed past him and stood at the foot of the staircase, blocking his way. "I wouldn't do that, Mr. Burkehimer," he said, trying to keep himself calm. "It would just cause a lot of trouble."
"Get out of my way!" the man demanded. "Please," Chuck said, not moving. "If you'd just let me explain."
"Explain!' Burkehimer looked as though he was going to burst. "Out of my way!" he said again.
"I can't let you, sir," Chuck said. "You don't want to get Jane in trouble, do you?"
"Why you-" The man stood glaring at him. He obviously knew he could not get up the stairs if Chuck wanted to prevent him; but he seemed to be ready to try.
Chuck was still thinking rapidly. He called to Joe, and the other boy came over to him. "Listen," Chuck told him softly. "Go upstairs and call Linda. Tell her to get her ass over here. Quick!"
Joe nodded and scooted past him up the stairs. Burkheimer took a step toward him. Chuck talked fast. "Just listen a minute, Mr. Burkheimer. Please. See, this was all just a sort of-of game we-"
"Game!" the man spat out, incredulous.
"Sure. See, nobody's really hurt. We weren't doing anything to Jane that she didn't want us to do."
"You bastard!" Burkheimer shouted. "You were beating her! Tying her up! Having-having-" Chuck shrugged. "She likes it," he said simply. The man stared at him, speechless for a moment. "Liar!" he said at last. "Filthy, lousy liar!"
"I'm not," the boy said. "Ask her."
"I will not!" Burkheimer said, but his tone was hollow. "I know my daughter. I--" He broke off, as though his strength had suddenly left him. He seemed to sag all over. He walked slowly to the couch and sat down heavily.
"I don't understand," he said, shaking his head. He looked over at his daughter. "Jane ... Jane, are you all right?"
Jane nodded jerkily, not looking at him. She had found Chuck's shirt on the floor and pulled it over her huddled body.
"Did they ... were you . . ." Burkehimer stammered, but he couldn't complete the thought. There was silence. Chuck wished Linda would get there. Their house was not far away.
At last he heard the front door open. Joe must have been watching for her. He met them as they came down the stairs.
"Stay here," he said to Joe. "Watch him. Don't let him come up." He grabbed Linda and pulled her to the top of the stairs.
"What the hell is this all about?" she demanded. "You didn't even tell me you were coming here, you rat!"
"Shut up!" Chuck said. "Listen. We're in trouble. Old Burkheimer found us with Jane, and we've got to keep him quiet. He's liable to do anything. I want you to make it with him."
"What! With that old fart?" Linda shook her head. "No way!"
Chuck slapped her hard across the face, forehand and back, and then again, forehand and back. He knew it was the quickest way to convince her, and he was right. Her eyes melted, and her body swayed toward him.
"You'll do what I say, bitch!"
"Yes," she said softly. "All right, Chuck. I'll do it"
"Now get down there and get to it."
He followed her down the stairs. Burkheimer was still on the couch. Joe had put on his trousers. Jane had disappeared, evidently into the bathroom.
"Mr. Burkheimer," Chuck said. "I think you know my sister, Linda."
Burkheimer looked up. He seemed to have regained some of his strength, though he still seemed unsure of what to do about the situation. "Now look," he said to Chuck. "If you think you can just get away with what I saw here, let me tell you-"
"I think, sir, you just don't realize the way things are," Chuck said. "See, we kids today are a little freer, probably, than in your generation. No disrespect, sir," he added hastily. "But see, we can have fun without so many restrictions, because we're not up tight about sex and stuff. I'm sure you understand that and I think you'd understand even better if you could, well, participate. That's why I asked Linda to come over."
Burkheimer stared at him. "What are you saying?" he demanded.
"She's very pretty," Chuck said. "Don't you think so?"
"Well, yes."
"Would you like to see her naked?" Jane's father was unable to answer. "Show him, Linda."
Linda took off her clothes.
Alex Burkheimer had been a widower for years. He had not been celibate during that time, but there had not been many occasions lately when a young, beautiful, innocent-looking girl with long blonde hair and a marvelous figure had undressed in front of him. Within himself he knew that by allowing this to happen, he was forfeiting the chance to do something about the shocking scene he had witnessed. But he could not bring himself to stop it.
The naked girl walked toward him. His eyes went over her full, firm breasts, her jutting hips, her wickedly curved legs. There was an undeniable bulge in his pants.
He glanced over at Chuck and Joe. Were they going to watch? He realized suddenly that Chuck was still naked, and that this naked girl was his sister. Kids were freer, all right. He thought of Jane. He saw her hanging by her wrists, her body stretched taut, her head back., her tight breasts with the pointing nipples heaving with her gasping breath, the marks of the belt against the smooth expanse of her back.
The guilty image faded out of his mind as Linda sat down in his lap.
She put her arms around his neck, her face close to his. Her mouth was open and inviting. His nostrils detected the faint clean scent of her naked body, the girlish sweetness of her breath. In spite of the last ragged voices of prudence which still sounded in his brain, he was helpless to keep his hands from touching the bare creamy flesh of her thighs, or from sliding up over the curve of her hips to the silky skin of her back.
"Ooohh," she said very softly, and her parted lips quivered deliciously.
He was lost. He kissed her.
She moaned sexily against his mouth as her soft lips yielded to his eager kiss. Her tongue came out to meet his, stroking it languorously within the cavern of his mouth. His head swam with a nearly forgotten intensity of passion as the kiss went on. He felt the firmly resilient bulge of her breast against his chest, and the blood throbbed in his cock as it thrust up painfully against his trousers.
The girl wriggled closer to him, and the hard bulge of his erection pressed against her thigh. She gave a little gasp and drew her mouth away. She smiled at him.
"Oh, Mr. Burkheimer," she breathed. "That feels wonderful!" Deliberately, she squirmed again, rubbing her leg wickedly against the stiffness at his crotch.
This time it was he who gasped. Linda continued to writhe gently on his lap, keeping up the delightful stimulation of his engorged prick. Now he bent his head to press his lips to the flesh of a naked breast. The girl sighed with pleasure as he opened his mouth to take in the hard nipple, along with as much of the surrounding flesh as he could. His tongue laved the small, firm nubbin while his mouth sucked eagerly at the luscious mound.
"Ohh yes," the girl said breathily. "Oh, that's nice. Do it harder. Bite me!"
He nibbled gently at her nipple, marveling at its rubbery yet tender consistency.
"Harder," Linda pleaded. "Harder!"
But he was afraid of hurting her. Instead, he brought a hand up to play with that breast while his mouth moved over to feast on the other.
She crooned into his ear. "Aahh. Oh that's good. That's so good." She was still twisting slowly against him. "I want you to fuck me," she whispered.
Her words brought his excitement to a new pitch - even though, with the rational part of his mind, he knew what she was doing. He was aware that she was not all that turned on by him, a fifty-year-old man whom she hardly knew. He knew she had been put up to this by her brother in order to keep him quiet. But he didn't care. She was here, naked and ready. He wanted her.
He raised his head from her breast. She looked so young and unspoiled. She was probably underage, he realized. He wanted to hear those words coming from her innocent-looking mouth. "Say that again," he said in a croaking voice.
"I want you to fuck me," she repeated softly. Seeing that her words aroused him, she went on, looking straight into his eyes. "Fuck me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I want you to stick your prick all the way inside my cunt and screw me to death." She jiggled her leg against his throbbing bulge. "Would you like that, Mr. Burkheimer?" she said with a hint of a giggle.
He grabbed her and kissed her again. While she explored the inside of his mouth with her questing tongue, her hands went to the buttons on his shirt. She fumbled at them, undoing a couple and then tearing the shirt open impatiently, sending the remaining buttons popping. She ran her hands down his hairy chest, then leaned forward against him without breaking the kiss, turning her body so that both breasts mashed against his bare flesh. He felt the hard points of her nipples burning into his skin. She moved her upper body so that her tits worked against him. He moaned into her open mouth.
When they broke apart again her hands immediately dropped to his trousers. She unbuckled his belt, opened the button and eagerly pulled down the zipper of his fly. When her hand touched his cock, he gasped. Gently she pulled it out into the open. It stood tall and proud, jerking from time to time with the strength of his desire.
"Oh, wow!" Linda sighed, and stroked the shivering pole with a soft hand. "I want that inside me," she said. "All of it. Now."
And without giving him a chance to move, she rose from his lap for a moment and then straddled him, kneeling on the couch with a leg on either side of his. She hitched herself closer to him and reached for his straining prick, holding it straight up and positioning her cunt directly above it.
"You don't have to do a thing, Mr. Burkheimer," she said sweetly. "I'll do the fucking. You just sit there and enjoy it."
She lowered herself slowly, guiding the tip of his cock into her with her fingers. Then she took her hand away, and as she lowered her body further, taking all of him gradually inside her, Burkheimer's head fell back against the back of the couch, and he drew in his breath with a sharp hiss, which mingled with the low animal-like cry coming from the mouth of the girl.
She didn't stop until she had taken all of him inside her, and was sitting on his thighs, her buttocks two soft squirming pillows against his legs. She stayed there for a moment, her hips twisting in a slow, involuntary motion. Her eyes were half glazed and she was panting softly.
"Ooohh," she moaned. "Oh, lovely."
He felt that she was truly aroused now, and felt a surge of pride that his aging prick could still do that to a girl. He himself was breathing hard. Her sweet, tight twat gripped his cock from root to tip in its velvet grip, and sent tingles of passion crackling through his body.
Then she began to move. Slowly at first, very slowly, a small, almost stationary movement which hardy lifted her buttocks from his legs, but which set the walls of her cunt caressing his turgid dick like a warm, enclosing, hand. He heard his own breath whistling in and out of his mouth, and his hands found her smooth thighs and slid back and forth as if of their own accord over the curving flesh.
Gradually, almost imperceptibly. Linda's movements intensified. Her cunt began to slide up and down over his throbbing tool, making long, steady sweeps, punctuated by tiny shifting movements of her hips. These soon began to quicken, until she was fucking him in earnest, her body rising and falling rhythmically. He could feel the muscles working in her thighs as they pumped her up and down. Her tits began to bounce and jiggle. He raised his hands to them, cupping them in his palms and squeezing gently.
She smiled at him. They were both breathing hard. "You like it?" she asked breathlessly. "Fucking me?"
"You're fucking me," he reminded her.
"Yes. Fucking you." She had remembered how her words excited him. "Fucking you," she said, in panting rhythm with her increasingly strong up-and-down movements. "Fuck ... Fuck . . . Fuck! Oh yes ... Fuck!" She was bouncing hard now, her legs pumping, her body twisting over his cock, her hair loose around her face and bobbing in a crazy rhythm of its own.
"Linda," Burkheimer panted. "How ... how old are you?"
She smiled again. "Seventeen."
"Jesus!" But he was more excited than ever. "Seventeen ... is the best age ... for fucking," she got out.
He was not about to argue. What he was about to do was come. So was she. She was jouncing and squirming and gasping, and if he could only hold out...
"Squeeze me," she moaned. "Squeeze my tits!" He squeezed.
"Harder! Harder!"
He thought he must be hurting her, but he squeezed harder.
"More! Damn you! Harder!"
Her tone angered him a little. If that was what she wanted ... He tightened his hands as hard as he could over the beautiful bouncing mounds. "Aaaahh! Ohhhh god! Yes! Aaaaahhh!"
He had never known anything like the violence of her jerking, spasming, twisting climax. Inevitably it set him off too, and with a loud groan he shot his load up into her while she was still bucking and heaving above him.
Finally she collapsed, leaning heavily against him, her head on his shoulder and her rasping breath warming his neck. When they had both more or less recovered themselves, she pushed herself up and rolled off him, slumping down beside him on the couch.
"Wow!" she said, still somewhat short of breath. "You're something else, Mr. Burkheimer!"
"I think," he said hoarsely, "you may as well call me Alex."
"Okay, Alex." She grinned at him. He saw the marks of his fingers on her breasts.
"She's not bad either, is she, Alex?" Chuck said. He looked around suddenly. He had actually almost forgotten about Linda's brother and the other boy. Now he saw that Chuck had been watching them from one end of the room, where he now sat casually on the pool table, still naked. Joe was nowhere to be seen, and Jane had not reappeared. He remembered guiltily about Jane as he hastily fumbled with his pants, zipping himself up.
"Where's Jane?" he said to the boy.
"She's still in the bathroom," Chuck replied. "Joe's in there with her. See, he didn't get his turn with her before, and he's a horny little bastard."
Burkheimer understood that, having watched him ball his young sister, Chuck now felt he could say anything to him with impunity. He thought of his daughter with puzzlement and sorrow - and something else he didn't want to examine. He shook his head. "Jane," he murmured, half to himself.
"You shouldn't think badly of Janie," Chuck said. "She's a real nice kid. She's just discovering her sexual needs, that's all."
He shook his head again. "But she's always been so ... so ... quiet and . . ." He trailed off.
"Don't worry about it," Linda put in. "She's okay."
But he could not leave the subject alone. There was something he had to know. He looked over at Chuck. "You were beating her, tying her up. You said she ... she likes it!"
"That's right," Chuck said. "She digs pain. And bondage. And being ordered around, like a slave." "So do I," said Linda.
Burkheimer stared at her. "You mean ... actually like being hurt."
"Sure," Linda said. "Lots of chicks do. Men too. Don't you ever want to get rough with a girl?" "No," he said. "No. Of course not."
He couldn't keep it hidden from himself, and now suddenly he felt that he could talk freely to those young people. What did it matter, anyway?
"When I saw Jane," he said. "When I came down here and saw her hanging there ... I -well, I was outraged and horrified, and afraid for her too, of course. "
"Go on," Chuck said.
"She was beautiful," Burkheimer said in a low voice. "Hanging there like that. Beautiful. Her helplessness. Her naked body. Stretched like that. Vulnerable. Her breasts. Her hair hanging down. Her mouth open. The marks on her skin. Her pain. God!" he exclaimed, and put his face in his hands.
There was a silence. Then Burkheimer spoke without raising his head.
"When I saw her like that, I-I wanted to . . ." "You wanted to fuck her," Linda said.
He turned his head to stare at her. "Oh, no. No! My own daughter?" He shook his head violently. "No!"
"You wanted to whip her," Chuck offered. "No." This answer was softer. "No, I didn't. Really I didn't."
"Then what?" Chuck asked.
"I-I wanted to paint her," Burkheimer said.
Chuck recalled that Burkheimer was an artist. He had seen some of his paintings hanging around the house, and his easel and a table covered with artists' supplies stood in a corner of the basement room. Jane had told him once that her father had even sold a few of his pictures., although he made his living doing commercial work.
He was a little surprised at Burkheimer's statement, but he didn't show it. "Interesting idea," he said.
"Far out!" Linda chimed in.
"It was just a momentary craziness," Burkheimer said. "It just flashed over me. To get that kind of helpless beauty in a picture ... It would be . . ." He stopped, giving a forced laugh. "Well. That's what I felt." He shook his head as if to dismiss the subject.
Chuck shrugged. "Well, why not?" he said. "You can still do it."
Burkheimer gaped at him. "What?"
"Sure. Nothing to stop you. We'll put her up there again, just like before. She'll love it. And you can paint her all you want. How about it?"
The man swallowed hard. "No," he said roughly, after a pause. "I couldn't."
"Why not?"
Burkheimer moistened his lips. He rubbed a hand over his face. He cleared his throat. "She's my daughter," he said weakly. "How could I -" Then he said: "Anyway, a painting takes too long. Too much time."
There was a pause. Chuck waited.
"I could do a drawing," Burkheimer said.
Chuck slid down off the pool table. "I'll go get her out here," he said. "They should be finished by now."
He went into the bathroom, and a moment later came back, followed by Jane and Joe. Joe was naked again, but Jane was wearing Chuck's shirt, which covered her almost to her knees. She did not look at her father.
"Guess what, Janie," Chuck said. "We're putting you back up there. Your father wants to draw your picture."
Startled, Jane looked up at the grinning boy with widened eyes.
"Yep," Chuck said. "You should be flattered. He thinks you're beautiful like that. Okay, you don't need that thing now. Take it off."
Now the girl gave a quick, apprehensive glance at her father, then looked away. Her face reddened, but she unbuttoned the shirt and took it off.
Burkheimer's heart pounded as his daughter's body was revealed. It was lovely, well worth painting simply for its own beauty. He stifled the other feelings that it aroused in him. He thought of leaving, forgetting the whole business. But he didn't.
Chuck had gotten the ropes they had used, and was approaching the girl with them. "Okay, Janie, just like before. Give me your hands."
Jane held her hands out in front of her, crossed at the wrists.
The sight of the naked girl docilely offering herself for the rope was so erotic that Burkheimer felt faint. He had never known this part of himself before, and he would not have believed it of himself. But his mouth was dry as he watched Chuck tie Jane's wrists together. He then led her under the beam, and together the two boys pulled her up and tied the rope, so that she hung from her wrists just as she had been when he had come down the stairs.
He gazed at her for long moments without moving. The sight was incredible. He had to capture it on paper. With eager haste, he rose and went to the table in the corner. He found a large sketch pad and several drawing pencils, and, clutching them, came back to the couch, where he had the best view of her. Linda still sat beside him. The two boys came to stand near the back of the couch and watch.
He found a fresh page in the sketch pad and, pencil poised, stared up almost reverently at his daughter. The strain was already beginning to tell on her again, and her head had fallen back, her mouth open to pull in air. Trickles of perspiration slid down her sides.
"Oh Christ," Burkheimer whispered. "Look at her."
"Like you said," Chuck answered. "Beautiful." He began to draw. He worked feverishly, unaware of anything outside of what he was doing. More than anything he had ever wanted, he wanted to get down what he saw. Everything. The agonized tension of the taut, straining body. The way her breasts were pulled up and flattened by her stretched arms, yet retained their shapeliness, bulging above the sharply defined ribs and tight belly - with the hard nipples jutting straight out from their pink centers. The dangling pillars of her legs, swaying softly in the un-supporting air. The way her hair hung down from her flung-back head. The open, panting mouth like a symbol of her vulnerability. The way the reddish marks left by the belt made an erotic pattern of pain on the sweet creamy skin of her back. The utter, overpowering beauty of her helplessness, her suffering, her bondage.
He drew for a long time. At first there was no sound except for the soft scratching of the pencil moving over the paper. Then, gradually, Jane's strain began to become audible. Her labored breathing filled the room, and soon she was panting loudly. After a while she began to moan. The moans increased in volume and intensity. They filled his head; they inspired him.
By the time he was finished, Jane was sobbing and gasping and bringing up deep, inhuman groans from the depths of her body. Her head rolled from side to side, and the sweat streamed down her skin. The ropes were cutting cruelly into her wrists and her body seemed stretched to the breaking point. Yet she had never uttered a word of complaint or of a desire to be taken down.
At last Burkheimer could do no more. He dropped the pad on the couch beside him. "That's all," he croaked. "Get her down now.'"
They did so. Jane again lay huddled on the floor, rubbing her rope-marked wrists. Linda picked up the sketch pad and the boys huddled around to look at the finished drawing.
"Hey, that's good," Chuck said appreciatively. "Damn good."
It was good, Burkheimer knew. He had been truly inspired, and had captured the essence that he wanted through the intensity of detail he had concentrated on. He would eventually convert the drawing to a full-fledged painting. He could never sell it, of course, or even show it to anyone. He would keep it for himself.
He was excited, and incredibly aroused. His cock had been stiff and throbbing all the time he was drawing, but now he was more aware of it as it bulged powerfully against his pants.
Linda noticed the bulge. Grinning, she reached out and touched it. "That really turned you on, Alex, huh?" she laughed. "You've got a hard-on there like a baseball bat." She unzipped his fly deftly and once more pulled out his straining cock. It jumped in her hands. "Let me take care of it for you," Linda said.
"Hold it, Sis," Chuck put in.
"What's the matter?" she asked, releasing Burkheimer's prick reluctantly.
Chuck said, "I think Alex would like it better if Janie took care of that for him."
Burkheimer turned to stare at him. "No!" "Why not?" Chuck said.
"No, goddammit! Not that! She's my daughter, for god's sake!"
"So what?"
"No," Burkheimer said.
"I thought you stopped being uptight, Alex. You can't deny you want her. She'll do it like a flash if I tell her to, and she's probably horny as hell from hanging up there so long. So who would it hurt?"
"No," Burkheimer said.
"You don't have to actually fuck her if you don't want to - if you're not ready for that yet. Let her get you off with her mouth. She's getting pretty good at that."
Burkheimer gulped. "No," he said.
"I think you'd really dig that, Alex. Let's try
"No . . ." Burkheimer said weakly.
"Jane," Chuck called. "Come on over here and suck your father off."
"No ... please," Burkheimer said.
"Let's go, Janie. You don't have to get up. Just crawl over here. Come on."
Jane managed to get to her knees and crawled slowly and painfully to where her father was sitting on the couch. She stopped at his feet. Burkheimer made a half-hearted motion to get up, but Chuck placed a hand on his shoulder, and he fell back.
"You don't want to leave, Alex. Jane's going to show you what a great little cocksucker she is. Just like she did with her brother."
"Her ... Paul!" Berkheimer started, then sagged, stunned by this latest of the many shocks he had received today. But his prick was as stiff as before, and a tiny drop of moisture was seeping from the tip.
"Show him, Jane," Chuck said.
The girl raised her head briefly to look at her father. He saw shame in her eyes. And he saw lust there too. "Daddy . . ." she breathed in a tiny voice.
"Do it," Chuck said.
Jane lowered her head and took her father's cock into her mouth.
A loud, involuntary groan came from his throat as his daughter's mouth closed over him, enveloping him in its wet, warm softness. He groaned again as he felt her sweet agile tongue caress him, stroking slowly over the throbbing underside of his prick. And then her head began to move.
Her lips were soft and magical - sliding over his sensitized flesh. Her mouth was a cavern of untold delights, inhabited by a tongue that stroked and circled his cock, searching out the most sensitive spots whenever they came within its reach.
Her head bobbed steadily, her clasping lips feeding him in and out of her wonderful mouth with loving strokes that nearly drove him out of his mind. He could not believe what was happening. His own daughter sucking his cock! He looked down at her. Yes, it was Jane, his naked daughter, kneeling at his feet with his rampaging prick in her lovely mouth. He could see the belt marks across her white back, and his cock jerked between her lips. With a moan, he leaned his head back and gave himself over to her ministrations.
Somewhere outside the roaring in his head, he heard Chuck's voice. "You're a lucky man, Alex. You have Jane living with you all the time. You'll be able to have her do this whenever you want."
Jane's head was moving faster, her mouth taking him in deeper. He couldn't think straight.
Chuck went on. "And you can fuck her - you'll want to do that, now. I'll tell her to do anything you want. See, she's my slave - and Joe's. But we'll share her with you. She'll like that, won't you, Jane?"
The girl on the floor made a muffled sound around his cock. It was crazy, but he was crazy too. He twisted in his seat as Jane's mouth sent him spinning toward climax.
And Chuck was still going on. "And of course you'll be able to tie her up anytime you like, and draw her, or whatever. So you see . . ."
The voice faded out of his consciousness as the blood pounded in his ears. But the words remained in his brain. Tie her up ... anytime you like ... anytime you like ...
He gasped, arching his lower body from the couch, jamming his cock deeper into the girl's face. His rolling eyes fell upon the drawing of her, hanging by her wrists, aching and beautiful.
He gave a loud, hoarse cry and exploded again and again into his daughter's sucking mouth.