He uttered some “good girls” and told her how he was going to be a better Daddy in the future. John now hard— Sarah, her mouth now tired climbed up on the mature silvering male and she pulled her cotton panties aside. His penis went in easily because she was soaked and swollen.
She sat on John with him deep inside of her and she did whatever it is a young girl would do on top of an old man. John got to rest during these peaceful times when Sarah occupied herself. A break from the constant constant chasing and supervision or attention she usually required. It was good to see her busy without a cell phone in her hand. “What would you kids do if all the cell phones suddenly stopped working?” “Daddy that’s never gonna happen.” she’d say, “Phones are more important than food!” She rocked to and fro, some times vigorously with a staccado tempo and then she’d work her canal by bouncing slowly. Simultaneously she used her fingers on her clitoris—pinching and pulling at it, then she’d rub it like a lamp. There was a bottle of Johnny Walker on the night stand beside them.
Sarah’s clitoris was deformed, a little experiment of nature’s, it curved to one side and had extra flesh that normal girls clitoris’ didn’t have. Sarah’s huge prominence lacked nerve endings near its surface so the little wires that sent signals to her brain were deeper down and she had to work hard to orgasm. When she was little a worried John would listen outside of her bedroom door to make sure she didn’t hurt herself. There was a baby monitor in her room but they could be unreliable. She would work her vulva extremely hard, he could hear her pause with a huff in exasperation before continuing on, her bed squeaking away like a siren, earbuds in—her Hello Kitty nightgown pulled up above her budding breasts. She’d rub that mess like lotto ticket. You haven’t seen determination until you’ve seen Sarah masturbating.
She didn’t always have the key hole on her bedroom door covered. Her clitoris was as hard as a Halloween candy corn—white on the tip too just like the famed sugar burdened corn syrup treat—no blood or nerve endings where there.
It took awhile but they both got to where they needed to go and Sarah made it all happen. If John wasn’t intoxicated he would have ejaculated an hour ago. Probably back when Sarah first pulled her soiled cotton panties aside and slide down on his bent purple flag pole. For such a drunk old man he had a steel hard boner thanks to the muscles in Sarah’s vagina. It was a 63 on the Rockwell C scale, that is harder than a farmers plow blade. At intervals John would say “Scotch!” and Sarah would put the bottle from the nightstand to his lips. They laughed and giggled about stupid stuff. He was being all “old man” smart saying stuff and she was being all young girl adoring. The most important thing was that they kept rubbing friction between their genitals.
John’s old man parts screamed “Uncle” first, his autonomic muscles did their rhythmic dance of contracting and regrouping and this resulted in a nice a good load that filled Sarah to her cervix. She said she felt it, “Oh daddy, I felt that!” she said. She thought she pissed all over his belly and that he was gonna get mad. He told her she “squirted” and said “Good girl.” Still squatting on his withering dick she leaned into him and they hugged to keep warm. After ten minutes her arms pulled the covers over them like the wings of a bat.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/bgodb1/as_promised_adult_content_story_continued
Oh hell, this is amazing. I laughed in some areas ?