hard, I stare at the crumpled p
. I can be your cute, little
g fant
whirling inside my chest. With her gone, everything would truly be normal for once. I wouldn't have to come home every night, worried I might break underneath the te
time, in various revealing outfits, her eyes gleaming with mischief, her hands getting more and more brave when they touch me. She's like a candy I can't have. The ultimate, alluring forbidden
er as my daughter.
life - a disinterested bystander at that. One day I looked up to find out that Lia's tits had swelled thrice the size of a medium-sized baseball, and she now had a mouth-watering arse
flirt. And a g
new banging body makes that personality a dangerous weapon. S
he only man she goes
nd over again, with no s
and decades left to use it and bring forth twice a dozen babies if I wanted. There's no way in hell that beautiful damsel wants a bulky, aging, thick-around-the-m
ioned me. Made known the surprising fact
he could have her pick of any man in
dy. I can be your cute, lit
d I can't get rid of my erection, no matter how many times I jerk off. And every single time, I think of her moaning Big Daddy into my ear, her tight pussy making squelching noises while
l be no c
ent wondering how we could keep
eep who needs a barely legal girlfriend to feel youthful again. Lia deserves m
men.
table, my phone almost falls
e. Let her flirting get into my head. I've allowed myself to start thinking
disgu
than p
look at yoursel
walk the face of the earth, but I've traded my health for wealth. I'm no more as good-looking as I used to be, ever since Eunice's death. What would I even look lik
nd, roughly inhaling the lingering perfume of her pussy before forcefully turning my mind back to the work I was doing. I open
CAN'T AFFORD TO PASS UP THIS O
e the reason? I don't recognize the email address, but the name of the sender rings a suspicious bell; Princeton Bastille. That sounds like one of the rich
mplating, the clock the email, finding a link in
so I could read the words t
hern sug
e hell
g mysterious, and I've never heard of hot Southern sugar babies before. If this is some serious, illegal shit that has been sent to me by mistake, I have to do the righ
is il
titu
eneath their college sweatshirts. A sound of disgust escapes my lips, not from judgment, but because these girls must have reasons to exchange their bodies for money. Reasons like debt, I
a particular phot
ne is on th
t can
. it's