Sapphic Women Making Love
0 They scared me so much Daddy! Don’t you think I’m pretty? They hate us because we’re blond and good looking and healthy and smart and happy and Americans and Christians…”
“I’ll always protect you sweetie,” Daddy promised again as he kissed the tears from my cheeks. I dressed better, no more jeans or sweats and sneakers at dinner, instead I changed to dresses, or blouse and skirt ensembles, just sexy enough that Daddy couldn’t ignore the woman I’d become. It took him stumbling minutes to unload the tray, to set the table, continually taking quick glances at me as he worked, finally pushed out of the room by Daddy, clutching the ten euros that had been offered him, the front of his pants bulging outward. It was so terrible,” I cried as I wriggled in his arms, the blond curls on my pubic mound being crushed by his pulsing shaft.
