Daughter’s Soccer Team Pt 4 – Heather Joins

Continued from Daughter’s Soccer Team Pt 3 – Crossing the Line

Images of the characters can be found here: forum.xnxx.com/threads/my-daughters-soccer-team.720293/

Hours later, a phone buzzed on the nightstand, shattering the haze. Heather’s name flashed on Diana’s screen. Diana stirred, her body still in a fog of total bliss, her pussy and ass throbbing with aftershocks, welts stinging as she reached for the phone. She answered, voice husky and dazed, “Hey, Mom…” Heather’s concerned voice crackled through, asking how Diana was after the game and sleepover. Diana, half-gone, murmured assurances, her free hand lazily circling her swollen clit. “All good… just… really relaxed. See you tomorrow.” She hung up, giggling, her tits jiggling as she collapsed back, her body humming with sated lust.

The call sparked something. The girls propped themselves up, their welted, glistening bodies shifting, eyes glinting with conspiratorial fire. Sara spoke first, her voice low, “Your mom’s hot, Diana. And she’s got the hots for him.” She nodded at me, her blonde curls bouncing, pert tits bruised but perky. Kaylee grinned, her athletic frame flexing, flogger marks red on her ass. “We should gift her to him. Get her here, wreck her like us.” Diana’s eyes lit up, her massive tits heaving. “Fuck yes. Mom’s been single too long. She needs this cock.”

They huddled closer, plotting like deviant masterminds, their marked bodies pressed together, pussies dripping at the thought. Here’s the plan they cooked up, filthy and precise:

1. The Lure: Diana would text Heather tonight, saying the sleepover was “so fun” and inviting her for a “post-game brunch” tomorrow at my place, claiming Sara’s dad (me) was an amazing host with a killer spread. They’d play up the “wholesome” angle, mimosas, pancakes, team bonding, to get Heather through the door without suspicion. Sara would back it up, texting Heather separately to sell the vibe, mentioning how “chill” I was.

2. The Setup: The girls would stage the house to look normal but charged with subtle tension. They’d wear tiny shorts and crop tops, no bras or panties, nipples poking through, asses barely covered, “accidentally” flashing welts or red marks to plant the seed of something wild. I’d be shirtless, maybe in low-slung sweats, my cock semi-hard, playing the relaxed but dominant host. The kitchen would have wine flowing early, loosening Heather up, her auburn hair and DD-cups straining her blouse as she drank.

3. The Seduction: Kaylee would start, “accidentally” spilling juice on Heather’s shirt, insisting she borrow one of Sara’s tight tees. The wet blouse would come off, revealing Heather’s lacy bra, her massive tits spilling out. Sara would escalate, daring everyone to play a “truth or dare” game to “break the ice.” Dares would start playful, Diana sitting on my lap, Kaylee brushing my arm, but turn filthy fast: Sara “losing” her top, Kaylee grinding on Heather’s thigh, Diana kissing her mom’s neck. They’d tease Heather’s body, praising her curves, hands wandering, until she was flushed and squirming.

4. The Reveal: Once Heather was tipsy and aroused, her blouse gone, her pussy damp through her skirt, Diana would confess, “Mom, we’ve been fucking him. It’s… insane.” They’d show her the welts, the cuffs, spreading their legs to reveal stretched pussies and asses, proving how I’d wrecked them. Sara would kneel, pulling me close, stroking my cock through my sweats to show Heather the prize. Kaylee would bind Heather’s wrists with silk ropes, “just to try,” framing it as a game, her DD-cups heaving as she realized what was coming.

5. The Gift: I’d take over, ripping Heather’s skirt off, her panties soaked. The girls would hold her legs spread, Diana whispering, “Let him own you, Mom.” I’d bind her fully, spread-eagle on the kitchen island, cuffs padlocked, her auburn hair fanned out, her massive tits exposed. The crop would snap across her thighs, the paddle cracking her tits, her screams mixing with moans as I slammed my cock into her pussy, then her ass, the girls flogging her welts, fingering her clit, pushing her to orgasms that’d shatter her like they’d been shattered. They’d take turns licking her pussy, sucking her nipples, making her cum until she begged to be mine.

The plan was set, their eyes maniacal with lust, their welted bodies already trembling for tomorrow. They curled back into me, Diana murmuring, “Mom’s gonna love you… Daddy,” as we drifted into a brief, exhausted sleep, the promise of Heather’s destruction fueling our dreams.

The morning sun blazed through the kitchen windows, the room still faintly reeking of last night’s debauchery, cum, slick, lube, and the sharp tang of marked flesh. The king-sized bed upstairs was a wrecked swamp of stained sheets, but down here, the stage was set. Sara, Kaylee, and Diana had cleaned up just enough to mask the chaos, their welted, bruised bodies hidden under tiny outfits: Sara in a cropped white tank, no bra, her pert C-cups and blonde curls bouncing, nipples poking through; Kaylee in a tight black sports bra and booty shorts, her athletic ass barely covered, flogger marks peeking out; Diana in a red tube top, her massive D-cups spilling over, and a miniskirt that rode up her thick thighs, paddle welts faint on her cleavage. I lounged at the island, shirtless in low-slung gray sweats, my cock semi-hard, a bulge impossible to miss, playing the relaxed but dominant host.

The plan was locked in, the girls buzzing with conspiratorial lust. They’d lure Heather, Diana’s 40-year-old single mom, with a “post-game brunch” and unleash their filthy trap. The table was set with mimosas, pancakes, and fruit, wine flowing early to loosen her up. The girls had texted Heather all morning, selling the vibe, wholesome, fun, a thank-you for the sleepover. She was on her way.

The doorbell rang at 11:00 sharp. Diana bounded to answer, her tube top barely containing her tits, and led Heather inside. Heather Lynch was a fucking vision. At 5’6”, her voluptuous hourglass figure screamed raw sensuality. Her auburn hair cascaded in thick, glossy waves past her shoulders, shimmering in the sunlight, slightly tousled from the drive. Her emerald-green eyes sparkled with warmth but held a playful edge, framed by long lashes and faint laugh lines. Her full, pouty lips, naturally pink, curved into a smile that was half-maternal, half-tease. She wore a tight white blouse, buttons straining over her DD-cup tits, soft and heavy, the lacy outline of her bra visible, her large pink areolas faintly showing through the thin fabric. Her black pencil skirt hugged her trim waist and wide, rounded hips, clinging to her plump, heart-shaped ass that jiggled with every step in her low heels. Her thick thighs pressed together, her pale skin freckled across her chest, a subtle perfume mixing with the musky hint of her natural scent.

“Hey, girls! Smells amazing,” Heather said, her voice rich and warm, hugging Diana, then Sara and Kaylee. Her eyes flicked to me, lingering on my bare chest and the bulge in my sweats, a flush creeping up her neck. “You must be Sara’s dad. Thanks for having us.” I smirked, shaking her hand, my grip firm, letting it linger. “Anytime, Heather. Make yourself at home.”

The Trap Unfolds

The Lure and Setup: The girls played their parts perfectly. Sara poured mimosas, her crop top riding up to flash her bruised nipples as she leaned over Heather, “accidentally” brushing her arm against Heather’s massive tits. Kaylee served pancakes, bending low so her shorts rode up, revealing flogger welts on her ass, her dark trim peeking out. Diana sat close to her mom, her tube top slipping to show paddle marks on her cleavage, giggling about how “wild” the sleepover was. Heather sipped her drink, her blouse tightening as her chest heaved, her eyes darting to me, then to the girls’ barely covered bodies. “You girls seem… extra happy today,” she said, her voice curious, a hint of arousal as she noticed the welts.

The Seduction: Kaylee “spilled” orange juice on Heather’s blouse, gasping theatrically. “Oh no! Let’s get you a new top!” Before Heather could protest, Sara was tugging her to the laundry room, returning with a tight, sheer white tank from Sara’s stash, no bra underneath. Heather hesitated, her blush deepening, but the wine and the girls’ insistence won. She peeled off the soaked blouse in the bathroom, her lacy bra barely containing her DD-cups, nipples stiffening in the cool air. The tank hugged her like a second skin, her large pink areolas visible, her tits bouncing as she walked back, her skirt riding up her thick thighs.

Back in the kitchen, Sara dared everyone to play “truth or dare” to “keep the party going.” Heather laughed, tipsy, and agreed. The dares escalated fast: Diana sat on my lap, her miniskirt hiking to flash her landing strip, grinding subtly as Heather’s eyes widened. Kaylee “lost” her sports bra, her toned tits and flogger marks exposed, nipples hard as she straddled Heather’s thigh, “just for a dare.” Sara kissed Heather’s neck, her lips lingering, whispering, “You’re so hot, Mrs. Lynch.” Heather’s breath hitched, her pussy dampening her skirt, her emerald eyes glassy with wine and lust.

The Reveal: Diana took the lead, her voice low and filthy. “Mom, we’ve been fucking him. It’s… beyond.” She yanked up her tube top, revealing paddle-welted tits, then spread her legs, her miniskirt showing her stretched pussy and pucker, dripping with old cum. Sara and Kaylee followed, stripping to show their bruised, welted bodies, crop marks on Sara’s pert tits, flogger stripes on Kaylee’s ass. Heather gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, but her nipples hardened visibly, her thighs pressing together. “Girls… what…” she stammered, but her eyes locked on my cock, now fully hard, straining my sweats.

Kaylee moved fast, grabbing silk ropes from a drawer. “Just a game, Mrs. Lynch,” she purred, binding Heather’s wrists behind her back before she could react. Sara tugged the tank off, Heather’s massive tits spilling free, bouncing, her pink areolas swollen, nipples thick and erect. Diana yanked down her mom’s skirt and lacy panties, revealing her waxed mound with a delicate auburn landing strip, her full, pink pussy lips glistening, her clit prominent and pulsing.

The Gift: Heather’s protests melted into moans as the girls pushed her onto the kitchen island, her auburn hair fanning out, her DD-cups heaving. I locked her wrists and ankles to the table legs with steel cuffs, her thick thighs spread wide, her plump ass lifted, her pussy and tight pucker exposed. The girls grabbed the crop and paddle, snapping the crop across Heather’s freckled thighs, the paddle cracking her massive tits, red welts blooming instantly. She screamed, her body jerking, but her pussy gushed, soaking the table. “Oh God… what’s happening…” she gasped, her emerald eyes wild with fear and need.

I poured lube over her holes, three fingers plunging into her cunt, two into her ass, stretching her as she moaned, her tits bouncing with every thrust. The girls flogged her welts, Sara sucking her clit, Kaylee biting her nipples, Diana whispering, “Let him own you, Mom.” I slammed my cock into her pussy, her walls a scorching, soaking vice, her scream shaking the room. I fucked her mercilessly, paddle cracking her tits, her body thrashing in the cuffs.

As I pounded Heather’s cunt, the slap-slap-slap of my balls against her ass deafening, Kaylee saw her opening. Her athletic frame, striped with flogger marks, moved with predatory grace. She climbed onto the island, her dark trim and soaked pussy dripping, her toned ass flexing as she straddled Heather’s face, knees pinning Heather’s shoulders. “Taste me, Mrs. Lynch,” Kaylee purred, lowering her slick, swollen pussy onto Heather’s pouty lips. Heather froze for a heartbeat, her emerald eyes flashing with shock, but instinct took over. Her tongue darted out, lapping Kaylee’s clit, tentative at first, then hungry, sucking the younger girl’s folds with desperate fervor. Kaylee moaned, her abs flexing, her hands gripping the table’s edge as she ground down, smearing her slick across Heather’s face, her auburn hair tangling with Kaylee’s thighs.

Heather’s response was electric. Her screams muffled into Kaylee’s cunt, turning to guttural moans as she ate her out, her tongue plunging into Kaylee’s tight hole, swirling, sucking, her pouty lips glistening with Kaylee’s juices. The sensation of my cock ramming her pussy, the paddle snapping her welted tits, and Kaylee’s pussy suffocating her mouth pushed Heather into a frenzy. Her thick thighs strained against the cuffs, her plump ass clenching, her pussy gushing around my shaft.

Her first orgasm was cataclysmic. My cock dragged against her G-spot, the paddle cracked her nipples, and Kaylee ground harder, her clit pulsing against Heather’s tongue. Heather’s pussy locked so tight I roared, a molten flood of slick blasting my balls, soaking the island. Her body thrashed in the cuffs, her DD-tits bouncing like wrecking balls, welts red and throbbing, her muffled scream vibrating into Kaylee’s cunt. Kaylee moaned, her own climax building, her pussy squirting onto Heather’s face as Heather’s tongue lashed relentlessly, her emerald eyes rolling white in ecstasy.

I didn’t stop. I shifted, pulling out of her pussy with a wet schlorp, and rammed into her ass, her pucker stretching obscene around my girth, her walls hotter and tighter than her cunt. The paddle slammed her thighs, Sara’s fingers plunged into Heather’s gaping pussy, Diana flogged her tits with knotted tails. Kaylee rode her face harder, her athletic ass bouncing, her slick drowning Heather’s mouth. Heather’s second orgasm shattered her, her ass clamped so hard it hurt, another torrent of slick blasting from her cunt, soaking Sara’s hand, her body convulsing in the cuffs, her scream choked off by Kaylee’s pussy as her tongue thrust deeper, Kaylee cumming again, her juices flooding Heather’s face. Heather’s eyes were pure white, her pouty lips swollen, her auburn hair soaked with Kaylee’s slick.

I roared, my cock swelling, and unloaded, scalding, thick ropes of cum blasting into her ass, filling her to overflowing, spilling out around my shaft as her pucker spasmed with brutal pulses. Kaylee slid off, her pussy dripping, and Heather gasped for air, her face a glistening mask of slick, her emerald eyes dazed but burning with need.

The bedroom was a sanctuary of raw intimacy, the king-sized bed a tangled haven of stained sheets, lube, and the lingering musk of our depravity, now softened by the tender haze of aftercare. Heather Lynch, the 40-year-old voluptuous goddess, lay cradled in the center, her convulsing body finally stilling under the weight of exhaustion and surrender.

Her auburn hair spilled across the pillows in damp, glossy waves, strands clinging to her flushed, freckled cheeks. Her emerald-green eyes, once wide with shock and lust, now shimmered with a vulnerable, almost fragile glow, glistening with unshed tears. Her pouty, pink lips trembled with soft breaths, parted slightly as if still processing the onslaught of sensations. Her DD-cup tits, heavy and welted with red paddle marks, rose and fell gently, large pink areolas softened, thick nipples bruised but no longer rigid. Her trim waist and wide hips curved into the mattress, her plump, heart-shaped ass still leaking traces of cum and lube, her waxed mound with its delicate auburn landing strip glistening faintly, her full, pink pussy lips and stretched pucker pulsing with aftershocks. The red marks of steel cuffs and ropes encircled her wrists and ankles, her pale, freckled skin a canvas of crop and flogger stripes, each welt a testament to her destruction.

Diana, Kaylee, and Sara surrounded her, their welted, bruised bodies, massive tits, athletic ass, pert C-cups, pressed close, their hands gentle but possessive, their eyes glowing with a mix of triumph and fierce protectiveness. I held Heather in my arms, her voluptuous frame heavy but pliant against my chest, her welted tits soft against my skin, her auburn hair spilling over my shoulder. The aftercare, unlocking her cuffs, massaging her chafed wrists, carrying her trembling body to the bed, cocooning her in a soft blanket, had grounded her physically, but her emotional surrender was unfolding now, a deeper, more profound capitulation that bound her soul to our filthy empire.

Heather’s emotional unraveling began in the quiet moments after I laid her on the bed. As I stroked her back, avoiding the flogger marks, my fingers tracing the curve of her spine, her body sank deeper into the mattress, her breaths slowing from ragged gasps to soft, shuddering sighs. Her emerald eyes, glassy with post-orgasmic haze, locked onto mine, searching, pleading for something beyond the physical. “I… I didn’t know,” she whispered, her voice raw, cracking with the weight of her confession. “I didn’t know I could feel like this… like I’m breaking and whole at the same time.” A tear slipped down her cheek, not from pain but from the overwhelming flood of vulnerability, her heart laid bare after years of restraint as a single mom, a woman who’d kept her desires locked away.

Diana, curled against her mom’s side, her massive D-cups pressed against Heather’s arm, sensed the shift. She wiped the tear with a warm towel, her touch feather-light, then cupped Heather’s face, her own paddle-welted tits brushing her mom’s skin. “You’re home now, Mom,” she murmured, her voice thick with love and a fierce, possessive edge. “You don’t have to hide anymore. We see you.” She kissed Heather’s forehead, then her cheek, her lips lingering, sealing the bond between mother and daughter, now deepened by shared surrender. Heather’s lips trembled, a soft sob escaping as she leaned into Diana’s touch, her emerald eyes fluttering closed, trusting her daughter in a way she never had before.

Kaylee, nestled behind me, her athletic body warm, her flogger-striped ass pressed against my back, reached over to massage aloe into Heather’s welted thighs. Her hands were firm but tender, easing the burn, but her words cut deeper. “You let go, Mrs. Lynch,” she said, her voice low, reverent. “You gave us everything. That’s fucking brave.” She leaned down, kissing a raw crop mark on Heather’s thigh, her tongue flicking softly, grounding her in the present. Heather’s breath hitched, her plump ass relaxing under Kaylee’s touch, but it was the praise that cracked her open. Another tear fell, her pouty lips quivering as she nodded, her heart absorbing the validation of a younger woman who’d been wrecked alongside her, now offering absolution.

Sara, my daughter, lay across Heather’s legs, her blonde curls tickling Heather’s freckled thighs, her pert C-cups bruised but soft against Heather’s skin. She cradled Heather’s head in her lap, stroking her auburn hair, untangling knots with maternal care. “You’re one of us now,” Sara whispered, her voice filthy-sweet, her fingers brushing Heather’s cheek. “You took him, you took us, and you’re perfect.” She lifted a glass of water to Heather’s lips, letting her sip slowly, the cool liquid soothing her raw throat. Heather drank greedily, her emerald eyes locking on Sara’s, a spark of connection, a maternal bond forged in depravity, passing between them. Heather’s sob softened into a shaky smile, her hand reaching to touch Sara’s bruised knee, a gesture of gratitude and acceptance.

I rocked Heather gently, my arms a steel cage of safety around her voluptuous frame, her welted tits pressed against me, her thick thighs draped over my lap. “You’re ours, Heather,” I growled softly, kissing her temple, tasting her sweat. “You gave yourself to us, and we’re keeping you.” My hands stroked her stomach, tracing lazy circles around her navel, grounding her in my dominance but softening it with care. Her body melted further, her head resting on my shoulder, her auburn hair a curtain against my chest. “I… I want to be yours,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a confession that stripped her bare. “I’ve never felt so… free.” The admission broke something in her, a final wall crumbling, her heart surrendering as completely as her body had.

The girls pressed closer, their welted bodies a protective cocoon. Diana hummed a low, soothing tune, her voice vibrating against Heather’s skin, her massive tits a warm anchor. Kaylee fed her bites of strawberry, Heather’s pouty lips closing around her fingers, her tongue flicking instinctively, her emerald eyes softening with trust. Sara whispered more praises, “You’re so strong… so fucking sexy,” her lips brushing Heather’s thigh, sealing her into our fold. I applied more aloe to Heather’s welted tits, my touch delicate, easing the paddle’s burn, my lips kissing each bruise, marking her with tenderness.

For over an hour, we bathed her in this intimacy, the bedroom a sacred space of recovery. Heather’s trembling ceased, her DD-cups rising with steady breaths, her body sinking into the blanket. Her emotional surrender deepened with every touch, every word. She laughed softly, a raw, awed sound, when Diana teased, “Mom, you’re a freak,” her emerald eyes sparkling with newfound confidence. She cried quietly when Kaylee said, “You’re family now,” her tears soaking Sara’s lap. And when I kissed her deeply, slow and possessive, my tongue claiming her mouth, she moaned, nodding, her soul fully ours. “I’m yours,” she whispered again, her voice steady now, her pouty lips curving into a shy, radiant smile. “All of you.”

The aftercare had sealed her, not just her welted, wrecked body, but her heart, her desires, her very essence. Pain, pleasure, and tenderness had woven Heather into our filthy empire, her emotional surrender complete, her convulsing body cradled in my bed, her soul bound to us, ready for whatever depraved acts we’d unleash next.

I held Heather in my arms, her voluptuous frame heavy against my chest, her welted tits soft against my skin, her auburn hair a curtain over my shoulder. The aftercare, unlocking her cuffs, carrying her trembling body to the bed, massaging her chafed wrists, cocooning her in a soft blanket, feeding her fruit, soothing her welts with aloe, had sealed her emotional surrender. Her whispered confessions, “I’m yours… I’ve never felt so free”, had bound her soul to our filthy empire, her heart laid bare, her desires no longer locked away.

But I wasn’t done with her yet. Her body rested for nearly an hour, her breaths deepening, her emerald eyes fluttering with trust as the girls stroked her, kissed her welts, and whispered filthy-sweet praises. Her DD-tits rose and fell, her plump ass relaxed into the sheets, but I saw the spark in her eyes, the hunger that lingered beneath her sated glow. She was ready for more, ready to be pushed further, to be claimed again.

I growled, my cock already hardening at the thought. “Time to tie you up again, Heather,” I said, my voice dark with intent. Her emerald eyes flared, a mix of nerves and ravenous lust, her pussy twitching visibly. The girls giggled, their welted bodies shifting with excitement, already grabbing the bondage kit, thick nylon ropes, a leather harness, and a bright red ball gag from Sara’s stash. Diana’s massive tits bounced as she handed me the ropes, Kaylee’s athletic ass flexed as she fetched a bottle of silicone lube, and Sara’s pert C-cups quivered as she clutched one of her powerful vibrators, its sleek black surface gleaming.

I rolled Heather onto her stomach, her voluptuous body pliant but trembling with anticipation. Her heart-shaped ass, plump and perfect, lifted slightly as she instinctively arched, her welted cheeks parting to reveal her tight pucker, still slick from earlier. I bound her into a tight hogtie, nylon ropes looping around her wrists and ankles, pulling them together behind her back, her arms and legs strained, her DD-tits crushed against the mattress, her auburn hair spilling over her face. The ropes bit into her chafed skin, red marks flaring anew, her body arched painfully, her ass high in the air like an offering, her waxed mound and glistening pussy exposed below. I strapped the red ball gag into her mouth, the leather buckling tight, her pouty lips stretching around it, drool already pooling as she moaned, her emerald eyes wide and submissive.

Diana knelt in front of Heather, her massive D-cups swaying, paddle welts raw, and lubed the vibrator, its hum filling the room as she tested it. Kaylee poured silicone lube over Heather’s ass, the cool liquid streaming down her crack, pooling in her pucker, making her clench and whimper through the gag. Sara stroked Heather’s auburn hair, whispering, “You’re gonna take him so good, Mrs. Lynch,” her blonde curls brushing Heather’s cheek, her bruised nipples hard with excitement.

I knelt behind Heather, my cock a throbbing, lube-slick weapon, veins bulging with need. Her heart-shaped ass was a vision, welted and raised, her pucker twitching under the lube’s sheen. I pressed the head against her rim, slow but relentless, her hole fighting the stretch. With a firm thrust, I breached her, the head popping past her rim with a muffled scream from Heather, the ball gag choking her cry. Her ass was a scorching, crushing vice, tighter than before, her walls pulsing as I sank deeper, inch by brutal inch, until my balls pressed against her waxed mound. Her hogtied body strained, ropes creaking, her DD-tits scraping the sheets, her auburn hair whipping as she shook.

Diana slid beneath Heather, her massive tits pressed against the mattress, and eased the vibrator into Heather’s soaking pussy, the thick toy stretching her full lips. She flicked it to high, the buzz intense, and pumped it in and out, slow at first, then faster, syncing with my thrusts. Heather’s muffled screams vibrated through the gag, drool dripping onto the sheets, her emerald eyes rolling back as the dual penetration overwhelmed her.

I fucked her ass with savage force, hips slamming, the slap-slap-slap of my balls against her clit deafening, her welted cheeks bouncing with every thrust. The ropes held her tight, her hogtied body unable to move, amplifying every sensation. Diana’s vibrator plunged deep, curling against Heather’s G-spot, the hum reverberating through her pelvis into her ass, making her pucker clamp harder around my cock. Her first orgasm was cataclysmic, her ass locked so tight I roared, her pussy blasting a torrent of slick juice around the vibrator, soaking Diana’s hand and the sheets. Her hogtied body convulsed violently, ropes biting deeper, her DD-tits thrashing against the mattress, her muffled scream a guttural wail through the gag, drool pooling, her emerald eyes pure white as her holes spasmed in unison.

I didn’t stop. I pounded her ass harder, the lube squelching, my cock swelling in her scorching vice. Diana ramped up the vibrator, fucking Heather’s pussy with brutal precision, the toy’s buzz a relentless assault. Heather’s second orgasm detonated, her ass clamped even tighter, her pussy squirting again, a scalding flood that drenched Diana’s tits and the bed. Her hogtied body thrashed in the ropes, unable to escape, her welted ass bouncing, her DD-tits scraping raw, her scream choked off by the gag, drool streaming down her chin. Her emerald eyes flickered, lost in ecstasy, her pucker milking me with savage, relentless pulses.

I roared, my cock swelling to the limit, and unloaded, thick, molten ropes of cum blasting into her ass, filling her to overflowing, spilling out around my shaft as her pucker spasmed. Diana kept the vibrator buried deep, pushing Heather into a third, smaller orgasm, her body shuddering in the hogtie, her pussy gushing weakly, her muffled moans fading to whimpers.

I eased out of her ass, a creamy torrent of cum and lube gushing from her gaping pucker, pooling on the sheets. Her hogtied body collapsed, still bound, trembling in the ropes, her auburn hair soaked with sweat and drool, her DD-tits heaving. I untied her slowly, massaging her chafed wrists and ankles, the girls swarming with towels and aloe. Diana wiped her mom’s face, kissing her gag-stretched lips, soothing her raw throat with water. Kaylee massaged aloe into her welted ass, her touch tender, easing the burn of ropes and thrusts. Sara cradled Heather’s head, stroking her hair, whispering, “You’re fucking perfect.”

Heather’s emerald eyes fluttered open, her pouty lips trembling with a sated smile, her emotional surrender deeper than ever. “I’m… yours,” she rasped, her voice raw but certain, her soul bound to us through pain, pleasure, and the unbreakable ropes of our empire. The girls curled around her, their welted bodies a protective cocoon, ready for the next filthy act whenever I chose to unleash it.

I knelt beside Heather, my cock throbbing, slick with lube and cum, veins pulsing with unrelenting hunger. Her emotional surrender had bound her to us, but I wasn’t done claiming every inch of this empire. My eyes locked on Diana, her curvy frame glowing, her D-cup tits welted but bouncing, her landing strip soaked, her tight pucker still dripping from earlier. “Come here,” I growled, my voice dark with intent.

I grabbed Diana by the waist, her muscular soccer legs kicking playfully as I pulled her toward her mother. Heather’s emerald eyes flickered with curiosity, a shy smile curving her lips as I positioned Diana face-down on top of her, using Heather’s voluptuous body as a living pillow. Diana’s D-cup tits pressed against Heather’s DD-cup tits, their welted flesh mashing together, nipples brushing, sending a shiver through both women. Diana’s brunette curls spilled over Heather’s auburn hair, their faces inches apart, Diana giggling softly as Heather’s pouty lips trembled with a mix of awe and arousal. Diana’s round ass lifted high, her landing strip and glistening pussy exposed, her tight pucker winking above Heather’s waxed mound.

“Hold still,” I ordered, pouring silicone lube over Diana’s cunt and ass, the cool liquid streaming down her crack, pooling onto Heather’s pussy below. Heather moaned softly, feeling the lube drip onto her, her DD-tits jiggling as Diana squirmed, their breasts rubbing together, welts stinging with delicious friction. The sight was mesmerizing: Heather’s massive, heavy DD-cups quivered with every breath, paddle marks red against her freckled skin, while Diana’s firm D-cups bounced with every movement, their nipples grazing, sparking soft gasps from both. The giggling was intoxicating, Heather’s low, husky chuckle mingling with Diana’s higher, playful laugh, their tits jiggling in a hypnotic dance, welts and bruises shifting with each ripple.

I gripped Diana’s hips, my fingers bruising her welted flesh, and lined my cock, thick, slick, and raging, with her soaking pussy. Heather’s emerald eyes locked on mine, her pouty lips parting as she watched, her DD-tits heaving faster. I slammed into Diana, my cock splitting her tight cunt in one brutal thrust, her walls a scorching, soaking vice. Diana screamed, her body jolting forward, her D-cups smashing harder against Heather’s DD-cups, their tits bouncing wildly, welts rubbing raw. Heather moaned, her own pussy twitching as the lube and Diana’s slick dripped onto her, her hands instinctively gripping Diana’s shoulders, steadying her daughter as I fucked her deep and hard.

The slap-slap-slap of my hips against Diana’s round ass echoed, her cheeks bouncing, her landing strip grinding against Heather’s waxed mound with every thrust. Diana’s screams turned to guttural moans, her brunette curls whipping, her D-cups jiggling furiously against Heather’s massive tits, the friction making both women gasp. Heather’s DD-cups quivered like jelly, paddle marks flaring, her thick nipples hardening as Diana’s brushed against them, their giggling dissolving into moans. “Fuck… Mom…” Diana rasped, her voice shaking as my cock dragged against her G-spot, her pussy gushing, soaking Heather’s pussy below.

I pounded Diana relentlessly, my cock swelling in her tight channel, my balls slapping her clit, the lube squelching. Heather’s emerald eyes were wide, her pouty lips trembling as she felt every thrust through Diana’s body, her DD-tits bouncing in sync, her own pussy throbbing untouched. Diana’s first orgasm hit like a bomb, her cunt locked so tight I roared, a scalding flood of slick blasting out, soaking Heather’s mound and dripping down her thighs. Diana’s body convulsed, her D-cups thrashing against Heather’s DD-cups, their tits a chaotic blur of welted flesh, their moans harmonizing as Heather gasped, her own arousal spiking from the contact.

I didn’t slow. I fucked Diana harder, angling to hit her deepest spots, my cock stretching her cunt to its limit. Heather’s hands roamed Diana’s back, tracing her welts, her emerald eyes glassy with lust as she whispered, “Take him, baby…” Diana’s second orgasm detonated, her pussy clamped even tighter, another torrent of slick gushing onto Heather’s pussy, her scream raw as her body shook, her D-cups bouncing wildly, mashing Heather’s DD-cups, their nipples rubbing to painful peaks. Heather moaned loudly, her own climax triggered by the slick and friction, her pussy squirting weakly onto the sheets, her massive tits jiggling uncontrollably, her freckled skin flushed red.

I roared, my cock swelling to the brink, and slammed balls-deep, unloading thick, molten ropes of cum into Diana’s cunt, flooding her, spilling out around my shaft and dripping onto Heather’s waxed mound. Diana’s pussy milked me with savage pulses, her body shuddering atop her mother, their tits still jiggling, their giggles returning as soft, breathless laughs, their welts glistening with sweat.

I eased out, a creamy torrent of cum and slick gushing from Diana’s cunt, pooling on Heather’s pussy and thighs. The women lay tangled, Diana’s D-cups pressed against Heather’s DD-cups, their bodies slick and trembling, their giggles a filthy symphony. Kaylee and Sara watched, their welted bodies twitching with renewed hunger, pussies dripping as they crawled closer, ready to soothe or join. Heather’s emerald eyes met mine, her pouty lips curving in a sated smile, her soul deeper in our empire, her daughter’s wrecked body atop her a testament to our claim. The bed was a swamp of cum and slick, the air thick with their jiggling tits and unbreakable bond, ready for the next depraved act I’d unleash.

Daughter’s Soccer Team Pt 5 – The Morning After

The bedroom was a steamy, sated sanctuary, the king-sized bed a flooded swamp of stained sheets, lube, cum, and slick, the air thick with the musky aftermath of Diana’s brutal fucking atop her mother. Heather Lynch, the 40-year-old voluptuous goddess, lay beneath her daughter, her auburn hair a damp, tangled halo, emerald-green eyes fluttering with exhaustion, her pouty lips parted in soft, ragged breaths. Her DD-cup tits, welted with paddle marks, glistened with sweat and Diana’s slick, large pink areolas softened, thick nipples bruised but tender. Her plump, heart-shaped ass and waxed mound with its delicate auburn landing strip were soaked, her full, pink pussy lips and stretched pucker leaking a creamy mix of cum and lube. Diana, her curvy frame equally wrecked, lay sprawled atop her mother, her D-cup tits mashed against Heather’s massive breasts, their welted flesh pressed together, her brunette curls mingling with Heather’s auburn strands, her landing strip and gaping pussy dripping onto Heather’s mound. Their soft, breathless giggles had faded into contented sighs, their bodies trembling with aftershocks.

As the intensity ebbed, mother and daughter succumbed to exhaustion. Diana’s eyes fluttered closed first, her head resting on Heather’s freckled shoulder, her D-cups rising and falling with her mother’s steady breaths. Heather’s emerald eyes followed, a sated smile curving her pouty lips as she drifted off, her voluptuous body relaxing under Diana’s weight, their welted tits still pressed together, a filthy, intimate portrait of surrender. The room quieted, the only sounds their soft snores and the faint creak of the bed.

I moved with care, my cock softening but still slick, my chest heaving from the onslaught. I gently lifted Diana’s limp, curvy form off her mother, her D-cups jiggling as I set her aside, her brunette curls fanning across the pillows. Heather’s body was pliant, her limbs heavy with sleep, and I freed her from the lingering rope marks, massaging her chafed wrists and ankles, my strong hands kneading the tender skin to restore blood flow. She stirred faintly, a soft moan escaping her pouty lips, but remained asleep, her trust in me absolute. I spread her limp form out on the bed, her voluptuous frame splayed like a goddess on an altar, her DD-cups sprawling, welted and heaving, her thick thighs parted, her plump ass and waxed mound glistening in the dim light, her auburn hair a radiant halo. I tucked a soft blanket around her, cocooning her lower half, leaving her welted tits exposed to the cool air, her freckled skin glowing with afterglow.

Sara and Kaylee, their welted bodies, pert C-cups and athletic ass, glistening with sweat, crawled onto the bed. Sara, my daughter, her blonde curls damp, crop marks stark on her thighs, curled against Diana’s side, her pert tits pressing into Diana’s arm, her hand resting on Diana’s welted stomach, fingers tracing lazy circles. Kaylee, her flogger-striped ass flexing, nestled against Diana’s other side, her toned frame molding to Diana’s curves, her lips brushing Diana’s shoulder in a soft, possessive kiss. The three girls formed a tangled pile, their welted bodies intertwined, their breaths syncing as they drifted into a light, protective sleep around Diana, guarding her in their shared surrender.

I slid beside Heather, my body a wall of heat and muscle, and pulled her into my arms. Her voluptuous frame melted against me, her DD-cups pressing into my chest, welted and soft, her auburn hair spilling over my shoulder, her thick thighs draping across my lap. I stroked her back, tracing her spine, avoiding the flogger marks, my lips brushing her temple, tasting her sweat. “You’re mine,” I murmured, my voice low and possessive, though she was too deep in sleep to hear. Her pouty lips twitched in a faint smile, her body molding to mine, her soul bound to our empire.

Sara stirred briefly in the night, her blonde curls tickling Diana’s skin as she shifted. Her hazel eyes, glassy with sleep, found me across the bed, cradling Heather. A soft, filial smile curved her lips, her pert C-cups rising with a deep breath. She disentangled herself from Diana and Kaylee, careful not to wake them, and crawled to my side, her crop-marked thighs brushing the sheets. “Daddy,” she whispered, her voice a sleepy purr, laced with the intimacy of our forbidden bond. She nestled against my free side, opposite Heather, her slim frame curling into me, her pert tits pressed against my ribs, her blonde curls spilling across my chest. Her hand rested on my stomach, fingers tracing the lines of my abs, her crop marks stark against her pale skin.

I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer, her body light and warm compared to Heather’s heavy curves. Sara’s leg draped over mine, her shaved pussy brushing my thigh, still slick from earlier, her small clit pulsing faintly as she settled. She nuzzled my neck, her lips grazing my skin, planting soft, daughterly kisses that carried a filthy undercurrent.

“Love you,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and devotion, her hazel eyes fluttering closed. I kissed her forehead, my hand stroking her blonde curls, then her bruised thigh, grounding her in our twisted love. “Love you too, baby,” I growled softly, my cock twitching at her closeness, though exhaustion kept it at bay. Sara sighed, her body relaxing fully, her pert tits rising with steady breaths, her soul as bound to me as Heather’s, her taboo surrender complete in the safety of my arms.

The night passed in a cocoon of warmth, the five of us tangled in a pile of welted, sated limbs. Heather woke first at dawn, her emerald eyes blinking in the soft light, her voluptuous body aching but glowing. She moaned softly as I massaged her welted tits with aloe, her pouty lips parting as Diana stirred, kissing her mom’s cheek, their D-cups and DD-cups brushing. Sara and Kaylee applied more aloe to Heather’s thighs and ass, their touches tender, their giggles soft as they praised her strength. We fed her bites of mango, her tongue flicking my fingers, her trust in us unshakable.

By mid-morning, reality intruded. The girls had to go to school and Kaylee back home to her mom. Groans and sleepy giggles filled the room as the three girls dragged themselves from the tangle of limbs.

Sara’s dresser and closet became the center of operations. Sara herself slipped easily into her tiny uniform: white cropped blouse knotted under her pert C-cups, pleated skirt barely covering the lower curve of her ass, thigh-high white socks. The blouse was deliberately one button short, so the inner swells of her bruised tits and faint crop marks peeked out whenever she breathed.

Kaylee, athletic and lean, wrestled into a spare pair of Sara’s shorts and a baby-tee. The shorts rode low on her hips, exposing the dimples above her flogger-striped ass, and the tee stretched tight across her toned chest, her dark nipples faintly visible through the thin cotton.

But Diana… Diana was the spectacle.

Sara’s clothes were cut for a slim, athletic blonde, not a curvy, big-titted brunette with a 26-inch waist and D-cup tits that refused to be tamed. The girls giggled as Diana tried to dress.

First, the panties: Sara handed her a tiny black thong. Diana stepped into it, the string disappearing between her round, welted ass cheeks while the front triangle barely covered her landing strip, the fabric already darkening with fresh arousal. She tugged at it, laughing, “This is basically floss.”

Next, the bra: none of Sara’s fit. Diana gave up and went braless. When she pulled on one of Sara’s white uniform blouses, the fabric strained obscenely. Buttons gaped between her D-cups, revealing deep cleavage and the red paddle welts that curved over the tops of her breasts. The shirt tails wouldn’t meet to knot, so it hung open, framing her tits like a curtain. Every time she moved, the blouse shifted and her bruised nipples threatened to pop free.

The pleated skirt was the killer. Sara’s skirts sat low on slim hips; on Diana they barely skimmed the very bottom curve of her ass. When she bent even slightly to pull on her socks, the skirt rode up completely, flashing the black thong buried between her cheeks and the faint rope marks circling her thighs. She twisted to look in the mirror and burst out laughing, her massive tits bouncing so hard the top button pinged off and shot across the room.

“Jesus, I look like a porn parody of a schoolgirl,” Diana said, hands on hips, skirt barely legal, tits spilling out of the ruined blouse.

Kaylee wolf-whistled. Sara smirked and snapped a quick photo. “Evidence for later.”

I leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, cock already stirring again as I watched the three of them: Sara petite and wicked, Kaylee toned and teasing, Diana an overflowing hourglass of welts and curves, every piece of clothing fighting a losing battle against her body.

They grabbed backpacks, still giggling, kissed Heather and me goodbye (soft, lingering kisses on the lips that promised they’d be back), and clattered down the stairs, Diana’s tits bouncing so violently with each step that Kaylee had to steady her so she wouldn’t fall out of the blouse completely.

The front door slammed. Silence settled.

Down in the kitchen, Heather had already decided we weren’t going anywhere today. She’d called in sick to work, voice husky and convincing, then raided Sara’s dresser for something to wear. The only thing that sort-of fit was one of Sara’s oversized sleep shirts: a soft pink baby-doll nightie that hung to mid-thigh on Sara but on Heather barely skimmed the lower curve of her plump, heart-shaped ass. The thin cotton stretched like a second skin across her massive DD-cup tits, the hem riding high enough that every time she reached for a pan or leaned over the stove, the shirt lifted and flashed the lower curve of her welted ass and the delicate auburn landing strip above her bare pussy. Her thick nipples, still tender from last night, poked obscenely through the fabric, shifting and bouncing with every movement.

She moved around the kitchen barefoot, auburn hair loose and wild, humming softly as she fried bacon and flipped pancakes. The morning light caught the red paddle marks on the tops of her breasts that the low neckline couldn’t hide, and every sway of her hips made the nightie ride higher. The sight of those heavy, welted DD-tits swaying freely under the thin pink cotton, nipples tracing lazy circles with each motion, was hypnotic.

I came up behind her, hands sliding under the hem to cup her bare ass, thumbs tracing the rope marks still visible on her thighs. She leaned back into me, a low moan escaping as the spatula stilled in her hand.

“Breakfast can wait a few minutes,” she murmured, pushing her ass against my hardening cock.

The girls were at school in too-tight uniforms, probably squirming in their seats, welts rubbing against fabric, pussies already wet thinking about tonight.

Heather stayed, her voluptuous body curled against me, her welted tits soft under my hand, her emerald eyes locked on mine. “They’ll be back,” she murmured, her pouty lips curving, her soul fully mine. The bed was a wreck, the house quiet, but our empire was stronger, Sara’s nightly return to my arms a guarantee. But for now, Heather and I had the whole day, and she was dressed in nothing but a scrap of pink cotton that couldn’t hope to contain her.

The house was quiet, the girls gone to school in their too-tight uniforms, the faint scent of bacon still hanging in the air. Heather stood at the sink rinsing the last pan, the pink baby-doll nightie riding high on her thighs, her massive DD-cup tits swaying with every small movement. I stepped behind her, hands sliding around her waist, fingers brushing the lower curve of those heavy breasts.

“Shower,” I murmured against her ear. She melted back into me with a soft, needy sound.

We left the nightie in a puddle on the kitchen floor and walked naked upstairs, her plump, heart-shaped ass rolling with each step, faint rope marks and paddle welts still blooming across her pale, freckled skin.

The master bath filled with steam as the rain shower came to life. I pulled her under the hot cascade, water sluicing over her auburn hair, turning it dark and sleek, streaming down the curve of her back and between her ass cheeks. I took the cedar-and-citrus body wash and worked it between my palms until it foamed thick and fragrant.

I started slow, reverent.

My hands circled her throat first, thumbs tracing the faint bruises from last night’s collar play, then slid down to those glorious DD-cups. I cupped them from underneath, lifting their heavy weight, letting the water and soap cascade over them. I washed every inch: the soft outer curves, the tender undersides, the freckled tops still striped with paddle marks. I circled her large pink areolas again and again, watching her thick nipples tighten into aching peaks. When I finally rolled them between soapy fingers she moaned, head falling back against my shoulder, water pouring over her parted lips.

Lower. I traced the gentle swell of her belly, the flare of her hips, then turned her to face the tiled wall. I spread her legs wide, one foot on the marble bench, and knelt behind her. My hands kneaded her welted ass cheeks, parting them slowly. Warm water ran in rivulets down her crack. I washed her there with deliberate care: long, slippery strokes over her tight pucker, circling, pressing just the tip of one soapy finger inside, then two, scissoring gently until she was pushing back with small, desperate whimpers. I moved forward, washing her full, swollen pussy lips, parting them to rinse every fold, thumb gliding over her prominent clit until her thighs shook.

I turned her again, dropped to my knees in the steam, and lifted one heavy breast to my mouth. I sucked her nipple deep, tongue flicking the bruised tip while my hand cradled the other, kneading, water and soap dripping from my fingers. Then the second breast, slow, worshipful, until she was panting, hands tangled in my wet hair.

I stood, rinsed us both clean under the rainfall, then shut the water off. The air was thick with steam and the scent of citrus and her arousal. Without drying her, I scooped her up, water still beading on her freckled skin, auburn hair dripping, and carried her to the bedroom. She curled into my chest like she belonged there, arms around my neck, legs draped over my forearm, her bruised, welted body trembling faintly with anticipation.

I laid her in the center of the bed; sheets still rumpled and faintly damp from the night. The morning light slanted across her: water droplets glistening on her DD-tits, welts glowing pink and red, thighs parted invitingly, pussy lips flushed and glistening.

I took my time.

I started at her throat, soft kisses down the column, tasting clean skin and faint salt. I moved to her breasts again, spending long minutes on each one: licking broad circles around her areolas, sucking until her back arched, gently biting the bruised tips until she whimpered my name. I left a trail of wet kisses down her belly, lingering on the soft curve beneath her navel, then lower.

When I reached her pussy, I didn’t dive in. I kissed the creases where thigh meets hip, nipped the tender skin, blew cool air across her clit until she squirmed. Only then did I spread her open with my thumbs and lick, one long, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit. She cried out, hips bucking. I held her down and did it again, and again, until she was dripping, until her thighs shook against my shoulders.

I slid two fingers inside her, curled them, stroked that spot that made her gasp. My mouth sealed over her clit, gentle suction, steady flicks of my tongue, while my fingers pumped slow and deep. Her first orgasm rolled through her like a wave: soft at first, then shattering, her pussy fluttering around my fingers, a rush of slick coating my hand. I kept my mouth on her through it, drawing it out until she was sobbing with pleasure.

I added a third finger, stretched her gently, licked softer now, letting her drift down only to build her again. The second climax hit harder, her back bowed off the bed, thighs clamping around my head, a broken cry tearing from her throat as she came a second time, harder, gushing over my tongue.

I rose up over her, water still drying on our skin, and slid into her slowly, inch by deliberate inch, watching her face the entire time. Her emerald eyes locked on mine, wide and trusting. When I was seated fully, balls deep in her tight, soaked heat, I paused, letting her feel every throb.

Then I began to move, long, unhurried strokes, pulling almost all the way out before gliding back in, grinding against her clit on every downstroke. Her legs wrapped around my waist, ankles locking, heels digging into my back. I kept the rhythm slow, deep, relentless, kissing her mouth, her bruised nipples, whispering filth and praise against her ear.

Her third orgasm built gradually, her walls fluttering, then clamping hard as she came again, softer this time but deeper, her whole-body shuddering around me. I followed her over, burying myself to the hilt and spilling inside her with a low groan, pulse after pulse, until we were both trembling.

Afterward I stayed inside her, softening slowly, our bodies locked together. She curled into my chest again, arms around my neck, legs tangled with mine, her welted, bruised, utterly claimed body pressed to me from breast to thigh.

We had the entire day ahead, no school bells, no work, no one to answer to. Just Heather, soft and open and mine, breathing my name against my skin while the morning light painted welts and water droplets across her voluptuous curves.

Once again, the bedroom was quiet except for the soft hush of our breathing and the occasional drip of water from Heather’s still-damp hair onto the sheets. I stayed buried inside her, softening slowly, neither of us in any hurry to separate. Her walls fluttered around me in gentle aftershocks, little pulses that made her sigh each time.

Heather’s voluptuous body was draped over mine now, one thick thigh thrown across my hips, her massive DD-cup tits pressed warm and heavy against my chest, the faint sting of paddle welts brushing my skin whenever she shifted. Her auburn hair, dark and wet, spilled across my shoulder and neck like silk rope, cool where the water hadn’t yet dried. I could feel the slow thud of her heartbeat through those soft, bruised breasts, steady and strong, matching the lazy rhythm of my own.

I traced idle patterns over her back with my fingertips, down the gentle curve of her spine, over the raised lines of flogger stripes, along the deeper rope marks that ringed her waist like delicate jewelry. Every time my fingers crossed a welt she made a small, contented sound, half sigh, half moan, and pressed closer.

Her face was tucked into the crook of my neck, lips brushing my skin whenever she breathed. I felt the occasional flick of her tongue, tasting the salt and water there, more affection than arousal now, just the need to stay connected at every possible point.

I slid one hand down to cup the lush weight of her heart-shaped ass, kneading gently, feeling the heat of last night’s marks under my palm. She hummed, pushing back into my touch like a cat, then let her own hand drift up to rest over my heart, fingers spreading wide, claiming the beat as hers.

Minutes stretched into an hour, maybe more. Neither of us spoke; there was nothing that needed saying. The morning light shifted across the bed, slow gold turning warmer, catching on the water droplets still clinging to her freckled shoulders and the tops of her breasts. Every time the light touched a bruise or welt it looked like a badge, proof that she had given everything and I had taken it all.

Eventually I rolled us onto our sides, still joined, her leg hooked high over my hip so I stayed inside her. Face to face now, noses almost touching. Her emerald-green eyes were soft, heavy-lidded, the earlier storm of lust replaced by something quieter and deeper. I brushed a strand of wet hair from her cheek and she turned into the touch, kissing my palm, then my wrist, then the inside of my forearm, slow, reverent presses of lips against skin.

I gathered her closer, one arm under her neck, the other wrapped around her waist, palm splayed over the small of her back. She burrowed in, her forehead against my throat, one hand curled against my chest, the other tucked between us, fingers lazily stroking whatever skin she could reach. Her DD-tits were squished between us, soft and warm, nipples still tender enough that each small shift drew a tiny catch in her breath.

We dozed like that, half-asleep, half-awake, bodies locked together in the gentlest way possible. Every so often one of us would move, just enough to feel the other, to remind ourselves we were still connected, and the other would answer with a sleepy squeeze or a kiss pressed to collarbone, shoulder, throat.

Outside, the world carried on: the girls were in class, squirming in too-tight uniforms, welts rubbing against fabric every time they sat; phones buzzed in lockers with whispered plans for tonight. But in here there was only the slow rise and fall of Heather’s back under my hand, the faint taste of her skin on my lips, the warm, wet clutch of her body still holding me inside her like she never intended to let go.

And she didn’t. Hours slipped by in that quiet, perfect afterglow, two bodies tangled so completely that there was no telling where one ended and the other began, both of us bruised, marked, and utterly, peacefully owned.

The afternoon drifted in like a slow tide.

We never left the bed. The sheets were a wreck (damp, twisted, streaked with dried cum and faint pink traces of welts), but they cradled us perfectly. Heather lay half on top of me, one thick thigh still hooked over my hip, her DD-cup tits pillowed against my ribs, rising and falling with every lazy breath. Her auburn hair had dried into soft waves that smelled faintly of cedar soap and sex, tickling my neck whenever she shifted.

Every few minutes one of us would move, just enough to feel the other.

I’d trace the curve of her waist, thumb brushing the deep rope indent that ringed her skin like a belt, and she’d hum, pressing closer. She’d drag her nails lightly down my chest, over the faint scratches her own nails had left last night, then lower, fingertips circling my half-hard cock still nestled inside her, feeling the slow throb of blood returning. We’d tense together (her walls fluttering around me, my hips giving a shallow, involuntary roll), then relax again, laughing breathlessly at how easily our bodies still answered each other.

Hours blurred.

At one point she rolled onto her back, arms stretched above her head, offering herself like a banquet. I mapped every bruise and welt with my mouth; the paddle stripes across the tops of her breasts (soft kisses that made her nipples tighten again); the faint finger-shaped marks on her hips; the perfect oval of a crop bite on the inside of her thigh. She watched me with heavy-lidded emerald eyes, lips parted, chest rising faster every time my tongue soothed a sore spot.

I slid down her body and spent a long, lazy stretch between her thighs, licking her clean in slow, savoring strokes (tasting myself, tasting her, tasting us). She came once more, quietly this time, thighs trembling around my ears, fingers tangled gently in my hair, whispering broken little thank-yous that dissolved into sighs.

Afterward she curled back into me, her back to my front, my cock nestled between the slick cheeks of her heart-shaped ass, one of my hands cupping a heavy breast, thumb idly circling her nipple. We dozed, woke, tensed, explored again (never rushing, never fucking, just keeping the low current of arousal simmering).

Every time I felt myself hardening fully, I’d pull back with a low growl. “Not yet,” I murmured against the shell of her ear. “Diana and Sara will be home in a couple of hours. Those young cunts are going to need every drop I’ve got left.”

Heather laughed, a throaty, wicked sound, and deliberately clenched around the head of my cock where it rested just inside her entrance. “Then let me keep you warm until they get here,” she whispered, pushing back so I slid an inch deeper, then stilled again.

So that’s how the afternoon passed: slow, deliberate touches, quiet gasps, the occasional lazy grind that stopped just short of release, both of us conserving, savoring, storing up every ounce of strength and hunger for the moment the front door slammed and two sets of footsteps came racing up the stairs (Diana’s heavier, eager bounce, Sara’s lighter, teasing patter), ready to be wrecked all over again.

We lay there, bodies entwined, hearts beating in the same steady rhythm, the clock ticking down to the next storm, both of us smiling at the thought of what was coming.

The afternoon had stretched into a golden, languid haze. Heather and I were still tangled in the wrecked sheets, her voluptuous body draped over mine like a living blanket: one thick thigh hooked high over my hip, massive DD-cups pressed soft and warm against my chest, my cock resting half-hard inside her, kept gently sheathed in the slick heat of her pussy. Every few minutes she’d clench lazily around me and I’d answer with a slow roll of my hips, just enough to remind us both we were still joined, never enough to tip us over. We were saving everything for what was coming.

Then we heard it: the distant slam of the front door, followed by the unmistakable thunder of teenage feet on the stairs.

“Dad? Heather? We’re hoooome!” Sara’s bright, wicked voice echoed up the hallway, followed by Diana’s deeper, breathless laugh and the jingle of backpacks hitting the floor.

Two heartbeats later the bedroom door flew open.

They looked exactly like the fantasy we’d been nursing all afternoon.

Sara came in first, blonde curls wild from the wind, uniform blouse knotted high so the lower curve of her pert C-cups and the faint red crop marks on her ribs were on full display. Her pleated skirt was rolled at the waist, barely covering the tops of her thighs, white thigh-high socks sliding down one leg. Her cheeks were flushed, hazel eyes sparkling with mischief and pent-up need.

Diana followed, and the sight of her in Sara’s too-small uniform was pure erotic chaos. The white blouse gaped at every button, her D-cup tits spilling out the sides, paddle welts visible in the deep valley of her cleavage. The pleated skirt sat so high on her curvy hips that the lower curve of her round, heart-shaped ass flashed with every step, the black thong she’d wrestled into this morning now a thin strip disappearing between welted cheeks. Her brunette hair was loose, framing a face flushed with anticipation.

They stopped at the foot of the bed, identical grins spreading as they took in the sight of us: Heather and me still locked together, her DD-tits squished against my chest, my hand lazily cupping one heavy breast, the slow glisten of her arousal visible where we were joined.

“Jesus,” Diana breathed, eyes raking over her mother’s marked, glistening body. “You two didn’t even bother getting dressed.”

Sara was already toeing off her sneakers. “We’ve been wet since first period,” she announced, climbing onto the bed without ceremony, skirt flipping up to flash her bare pussy, no panties all day. “Every time I sat down the welts rubbed and I thought about tonight.”

Diana crawled up the other side, blouse finally giving up the fight; two buttons pinged off as her D-cups bounced free. She straddled Heather’s thigh, leaning down to kiss her mom slow and deep, tongues sliding, while Sara claimed my mouth in a hungry, daughterly kiss that tasted like cherry lip-gloss and desperate need.

Heather laughed softly into Diana’s kiss, then reached up to palm one of her daughter’s heavy, welted breasts. “We saved you some,” she murmured, voice husky, clenching deliberately around my cock so I groaned into Sara’s mouth.

Sara broke the kiss, eyes glittering. “Good. Because we’ve got hours of detention to make up for.”

The bedroom door still hung open from the girls’ dramatic entrance, the air thick with the scent of teenage perfume and pent-up need.

Sara and Diana stood at the foot of the bed in their too-small uniforms, eyes bright, chests already heaving. I sat up slowly, sliding free of Heather with a wet sound that made all three women bite their lips.

“No,” I said, voice low and deliberate. “Don’t undress. I’m going to do that myself. I want to unwrap my naughty little schoolgirls exactly the way I’ve been picturing all day.”

Sara’s breath hitched. Diana’s thighs pressed together under that ridiculous skirt.

I crooked a finger at Sara first.

She padded forward on socked feet, skirt swishing, until she stood between my knees. I started with the knot of her blouse. One slow tug and the fabric loosened, revealing the soft inner curves of her pert C-cups, faint red crop marks crisscrossing the pale skin. I peeled the blouse open inch by inch, kissing every fresh bruise and welt I uncovered, tongue tracing the raised lines until she was trembling. When the shirt finally slipped off her shoulders I let it fall, then cupped her small breasts, thumbs rolling her nipples until they stood hard and aching. She whimpered, trying to lean in, but I held her still.

I dropped to my knees in front of her. My hands slid down her sides, over the flare of her hips, to the rolled waistband of her pleated skirt. I unrolled it slowly, revealing the smooth plane of her stomach, the faint outline of abs, then lower, until the skirt sat normally on her hips, still covering her, teasing. I pressed my mouth to the front of it, breathing hot through the fabric against her bare pussy. She jolted, hands flying to my hair.

Only then did I unzip the skirt and let it pool at her feet. Sara stood naked except for the drooping thigh-high socks, pussy already glistening, thighs trembling.

I turned to Diana.

She was breathing hard, blouse hanging open, D-cups spilling out the sides, nipples dark and stiff. I didn’t start gentle with her.

I stood, circled behind her, and pushed her forward until her hands slapped the mattress on either side of Heather’s hips. “Hold the bed,” I ordered.

Diana obeyed instantly, back arching, that tiny skirt riding high enough to flash the black thong buried between her welted cheeks. I didn’t touch the blouse yet. Instead I gripped the hem of her skirt and rucked it up slowly, folding it over her lower back until her entire round, heart-shaped ass was exposed, red paddle marks glowing. I spread her stance wider with my foot between her shoes, planted firmly on the floor, legs trembling.

Heather and Sara watched from the bed, eyes wide, lips parted.

I freed my cock (slick from Heather, rigid and aching) and lined up with Diana’s soaked cunt. One long, merciless thrust and I buried myself to the hilt in a single stroke.

Diana’s scream was raw, half shock, half relief. Her D-cup tits burst completely free of the ruined blouse, swinging heavily beneath her with every pounding thrust. The whole bed shook. Heather’s emerald eyes were locked on her daughter’s face, watching ecstasy twist Diana’s features, mouth open, eyes rolling back. Sara’s hand had already slipped between her own thighs, fingers circling frantically as she watched me claim Diana from behind.

I set a brutal rhythm, hips slapping against Diana’s welted ass, her tits jiggling wildly, nipples brushing the sheets. Each thrust dragged a broken moan from her throat, her walls fluttering around me, already close.

Only when she was trembling on the edge did I slow, lean over her back, and finally strip the blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall. I reached under her to palm those swinging D-cups, pinching bruised nipples until she came with a choked cry, pussy clamping down hard, soaking my cock and thighs.

I pulled out, spun her around, and pushed her onto the bed beside her mother.

Then the real chaos began.

Three women, two generations of surrendered flesh, converged on me at once.

Heather knelt up first, DD-tits swaying, and took my cock (still slick with Diana’s orgasm) deep into her mouth, slow and worshipful. Sara crawled between my legs from underneath, tongue lapping at my balls, then lower, licking where Heather’s lips couldn’t reach. Diana, still shaking from her climax, straddled my thigh, grinding her soaked pussy against me while she kissed her mother deep and filthy, their tongues sliding, D-cups pressed to DD-cups, nipples rubbing.

Hands were everywhere: Heather’s on my shaft, Sara’s nails raking my thighs, Diana’s fingers tangled in my hair pulling me into a bruising kiss. I let them work me higher and higher, then pulled away just before the edge.

“On your backs,” I growled. “All three of you. Legs spread.” They obeyed instantly.

I had them exactly where I wanted them: three generations of wrecked, beautiful women lined up across my bed, backs against the rumpled sheets, knees bent and spread wide like an offering.

Heather in the center, voluptuous and flushed, emerald eyes glassy with need. Diana on her left, curvy and trembling, D-cup tits still heaving from the brutal fucking she’d just taken bent over the bed. Sara on my right, my blonde daughter, pert and eager, crop marks glowing pink across her ribs and thighs.

I stood at the foot of the bed, cock jutting heavy and slick, veins pulsing, watching them.

“Show me,” I ordered, voice low. “Show me how empty those cunts feel.”

They obeyed instantly, like they’d been waiting for permission.

Heather went first. She slid both hands down her soft belly, fingers spreading her swollen, dusky-pink lips wide. Her pussy was already puffy and glistening, the delicate auburn landing strip soaked flat. She hooked two fingers from each hand into herself and pulled herself open, gaping wide, showing me the slick, rosy interior still fluttering from earlier orgasms. A thick string of her arousal stretched between her fingers, dripping onto the sheets. “Look how much he stretched me,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “I’m still open for you… please.”

Diana mirrored her mother immediately. She shoved the bunched-up skirt higher around her waist and spread her thick thighs wider. Her pussy was flushed dark pink, lips swollen and slick with her own juices and the remnants of the pounding I’d just given her. She used three fingers on each side, pulling herself apart hard, gaping obscenely, the entrance to her cunt a perfect, wet circle that winked and clenched as she held it open. Her D-cup tits jiggled with every ragged breath, nipples dark and stiff. “It’s so empty,” she whimpered, hips rolling. “I can still feel where you were… I need it again.”

Sara was last, and filthiest. She planted her feet wide, knees bent, and used just the first two fingers of each hand, spreading herself delicately at first, then yanking her tight, pink lips apart until her tiny hole gaped, showing me the slick, rosy channel that had milked me all night. A bead of my earlier cum still clung to her entrance, stretching in a thin strand as she pulled herself open. “Daddy,” she breathed, eyes locked on mine, “look how ready your little girl is. It’s aching.”

Three pussies, two generations, all held wide open, glistening, pulsing, begging.

I stepped forward and dragged the head of my cock slowly across each of them in turn, first Heather’s gaping entrance, painting her clit with her own slick, then Diana’s stretched hole, pushing just the crown inside and pulling out again, making her sob, then Sara’s tiny, perfect gape, teasing until she was whining and trying to push down onto me.

I let them stay like that, fingers buried in themselves, holding themselves open, hips rolling in desperate little circles while I decided whose cunt to ruin first.

Heather came first this round. I slid into her slow and deep, bottoming out in one stroke while Diana and Sara kept themselves spread wide, watching my cock disappear into Heather’s body. Heather’s back arched, DD-tits bouncing as I set a punishing rhythm, her gaping pussy squelching with every thrust. Diana and Sara leaned in, mouths on Heather’s nipples, fingers rubbing her clit in tight circles until she shattered, pussy clamping down so hard I had to fight to keep moving, a fresh gush of slick coating my balls.

I pulled out and moved to Diana without pause, slamming into her still-gaping cunt while Heather and Sara held her legs back, spreading her even wider. Diana screamed, tits jiggling wildly, welts glowing as I pounded her into the mattress. Sara reached down to rub Diana’s clit while Heather kissed her daughter through the orgasm that ripped through her seconds later, body shaking, pussy squirting in hot pulses over my cock and the sheets.

Finally, Sara. I flipped her onto all fours, dragged her hips back, and buried myself in one brutal thrust. Heather and Diana knelt on either side, fingers still wet from their own pussies, reaching under to spread Sara’s lips wider around my cock, rubbing her clit, pinching her nipples. Sara came almost instantly, screaming “Daddy!” into the mattress, her tight cunt spasming so hard it pulled my own orgasm out of me. I pulled out at the last second and painted all three of them again, thick ropes across Heather’s tongue, Diana’s welted tits, Sara’s open, gaping pussy.

They collapsed together, limbs tangled, mouths seeking, fingers sliding through the mess I’d left on their skin, licking each other clean with soft, filthy moans.

The school uniforms were long forgotten on the floor. The bed was destroyed. And none of us were anywhere close to finished.

The bedroom had devolved into a symphony of raw, animal surrender, the king-sized bed a quaking battlefield of stained sheets, scattered toys, and the heavy reek of lube, sweat, and ruined holes. Three women, two generations of utter depravity, knelt in a desperate row on hands and knees: Heather’s voluptuous frame trembling in the center, her plump, heart-shaped ass welted and raised like an altar; Diana to her left, curvy and shaking, her round, thick cheeks glowing crimson with paddle marks; Sara on the right, my slim blonde daughter, her tight athletic ass arched high, crop stripes stark against pale skin. Their toys, thick plug, ridged wand, vibrating egg, lay discarded, their asses already gaping from self-preparation, pussies dripping in anticipation.

I positioned them for maximum devastation: each time I claimed one ass, another would crawl beneath in a filthy 69, mouth devouring the pussy above, ensuring simultaneous destruction of both holes. The third would watch, fingers buried in her own cunt, waiting her turn.

I started with Heather.

I yanked the plug free with a wet pop, her pucker blooming into a hungry, dark O. Diana slid beneath her instantly, face up between Heather’s thick thighs, ravenously lapping at her mother’s swollen, auburn-landed pussy. Sara knelt beside them, three fingers plunging into her own gaping slit, eyes locked on the scene.

I drove into Heather’s ass in one brutal thrust, the scorching vice clamping down as Diana’s tongue plunged into her cunt below. Heather’s scream was apocalyptic, a guttural, throat-shredding wail that shook the bedframe. Her DD-tits slammed against the mattress, nipples dragging raw, back bowing until her spine cracked audibly. The dual assault detonated her: her ass locked like an iron trap, spasming in violent, rolling contractions that forced my cock halfway out with each pulse, while her pussy exploded against Diana’s mouth in a scalding, endless gush, slick flooding Diana’s face, chin, and throat in rhythmic jets that soaked the sheets. Heather’s eyes rolled completely white, mouth frozen in a rictus scream, every muscle seizing in a full-body convulsion, her holes milking in brutal unison, ass crushing, pussy squirting, as wave after shattering wave ripped through her, leaving her sobbing, drooling, utterly broken.

I ripped free, Heather’s gaping ass winking obscenely, and turned to Diana.

Sara dove under her without hesitation, blonde curls vanishing between Diana’s spread thighs, tongue spearing into her daughter’s soaked, landing-strip-framed pussy. Heather, still shuddering from her climax, crawled to Diana’s side, fingers circling her own clit as she watched.

I slammed into Diana’s ass to the hilt, the ridged wand’s stretch making her hole a molten, fluttering vice. Sara’s mouth sealed over her clit below, sucking hard, tongue flicking in relentless circles. Diana’s reaction was cataclysmic, her curvy body detonated forward, arms collapsing, face smashing into the mattress as a raw, banshee howl tore from her core. Her D-cup tits bounced so violently they slapped her chin with wet smacks, welts flaring like firebrands. Her ass clamped in a crushing, machine-gun spasm, rippling up her spine in shockwaves that made her entire frame jerk like she’d been electrocuted, while her pussy unleashed against Sara’s face, a torrent of slick blasting out in thick, forceful arcs, drenching Sara’s hair, eyes, and open mouth, each pulse a choking squirt that splattered Heather’s arm nearby. Diana’s eyes vanished to whites, mouth gaping in a silent, drool-slick scream, her body thrashing in helpless, seizure-like convulsions, holes pulsing in savage harmony, ass vise-gripping, pussy flooding, as the orgasm annihilated her, reducing her to babbling sobs and twitching limbs.

I pulled out, Diana’s ass left gaping and fluttering, and claimed Sara last.

Heather slithered beneath her, voluptuous body pinning Sara’s slim frame, auburn hair fanning out as her tongue plunged into my daughter’s tight, shaved pussy. Diana, wrecked but ravenous, knelt beside them, fingers buried knuckle-deep in her own spasming cunt, watching with feral hunger.

I eased the steel egg free, Sara’s tiny ring staying obscenely open, then thrust home, stretching her impossibly tight ass around my girth. Heather’s mouth worked below, sucking Sara’s clit like a vacuum, tongue-fucking her hole in tandem with my anal invasion.

Sara’s apocalypse was the most devastating yet, her lithe body went rigid as a board, then exploded into violent, thrashing seizures, a high-pitched, shattering scream, “Daddy!”, ripping from her raw throat like shattered glass, echoing off the walls. Her pert little ass slammed back against me in desperate, involuntary bucks, her hole clamping with shocking, bone-crushing force for something so small, then erupting in rapid-fire spasms that rippled visibly through her core, while her pussy detonated against Heather’s face in endless, arcing jets of slick that soaked Heather’s auburn hair, freckled cheeks, and welted tits, each forceful squirt a choking flood that splattered Diana’s thigh.

Sara’s hazel eyes rolled back to pure whites, mouth locked in a rictus of ecstasy, her slim frame convulsing in hard, rhythmic shocks that made the bedframe groan, legs kicking wildly, toes curling into agonizing cramps, her holes syncing in brutal, soul-stealing pulses, ass milking like a machine, pussy squirting like a broken firehose, as the orgasm eviscerated her, leaving her a trembling, tear-streaked wreck, whimpering “more” through chattering teeth.

I cycled through them again and again, trading asses and mouths in a relentless carousel of destruction. Heather’s second dual climax was a full-body cataclysm, her ass vise-locking while Diana’s tongue triggered a pussy deluge that drowned the sheets, her scream devolving into guttural, continuous growls, body seizing so hard her DD-tits left bruises on the mattress.

Diana’s third hit mid-thrust from Sara’s sucking mouth below, her ass spasming in earthquake-force ripples that nearly ejected me, her pussy unleashing a pressurized flood that blasted Sara’s face like a geyser, her curvy frame bucking like a wild mare, tears streaming as she babbled fragmented pleas.

Sara’s final double-orgasm was nuclear: Heather’s tongue lashing her clit below while I hammered her ass, her tiny body locking rigid then convulsing in lightning-fast shocks, ass clamping/releasing in a blur that milked me dry, pussy squirting in endless, arcing torrents that soaked all three women, her scream fracturing into high-pitched sobs, eyes whites-only, frame shuddering like it was short-circuiting.

When I finally erupted, I yanked from Sara’s destroyed ass and roared, unleashing thick, scalding ropes across them: painting Heather’s gaping pucker, Diana’s welted cheeks, Sara’s spasming pussy lips. They collapsed in a quivering, slick-soaked heap, aftershocks rippling through them for minutes, soft, broken whimpers, breathless laughter, fingers tracing each other’s ruined holes, licking cum from skin with trembling tongues.

Three asses and pussies, thoroughly, gloriously obliterated in tandem ecstasy.

The bedroom finally quieted. The bed looked like a war zone: sheets twisted and soaked, toys scattered, the air thick with the smell of sex and surrender. Heather, Diana, and Sara lay in a limp, glistening pile across my chest and thighs, breathing hard, bodies still twitching with the occasional aftershock. I was spent, cock soft and shining, every muscle deliciously wrecked.

We dozed like that for a couple of hours, limbs tangled, skin stuck together with cum and sweat. Every so often one of them would stir, press a sleepy kiss to whoever was closest, and drift off again.

Eventually Heather lifted her head, auburn hair wild, emerald eyes soft. “We should shower before we turn into one giant salt lick,” she laughed, voice hoarse.

The four of us crowded into the big rain shower, steam rising around us. It was slow, gentle, reverent: I washed Heather’s back, tracing every welt and bruise with soapy hands while she leaned against me. Diana pressed against her mom’s front, letting Heather shampoo her long brunette hair, both of them sighing as warm water ran over paddle marks and rope burns. Sara stood behind me, small hands sliding over my chest and stomach, occasionally dropping to cup my spent cock with a possessive little squeeze.

When we were clean and wrapped in towels, reality crept back in.

Heather and Diana had to get home before anyone started asking questions. We migrated to the living room, still half-dressed in whatever clean clothes we could scrounge: Heather in one of my T-shirts that barely contained her DD-tits, Diana in an oversized hoodie that kept sliding off one shoulder and flashing welts.

We curled on the couch, Heather in my lap, Diana’s head on her mom’s thigh, Sara tucked against my side.

“Next weekend,” Heather said, tracing lazy circles on my chest. “All weekend. No school, no work, no excuses.”

Diana perked up. “Kaylee’s definitely in. She’s been texting me nonstop about how bad she wants round two.”

Sara grinned wickedly. “And her mom?”

Heather’s smile turned slow and conspiratorial. “Vanessa’s been… restless lately. I’ve caught her staring when the girls are over in their little uniforms. I’ll feel her out this week. Start with some wine, some ‘girl talk,’ see how she reacts when I mention how close our families have gotten.” She leaned in, voice dropping. “If she blushes at the thought of watching Kaylee get fucked… or joining in… we’ll know.”

Diana shivered, biting her lip. “God, imagine breaking Coach Brooks the same way we broke Mom.”

I pulled Heather closer, kissed the top of her head. “Next Friday night. Everyone sleeps here. No one leaves until Monday morning.”

Promises made, plans sealed with soft, lingering kisses.

Heather and Diana finally gathered their things. At the door Heather turned back, stepped into my arms, and kissed me deep and slow, DD-tits pressing against my chest through the thin shirt. “Take care of our girl,” she whispered, nodding toward Sara. Diana hugged Sara tight, both of them giggling and whispering filthy secrets, then followed her mom into the night.

The house went quiet again.

Sara and I locked up, turned off the lights, and climbed the stairs hand in hand. She was already yawning, blonde curls tousled, wearing nothing but one of my old T-shirts that hung to mid-thigh.

In bed she crawled straight into my arms, small body curling into me like she belonged there (because she did). Her head settled on my chest, one leg thrown over mine, her hand resting possessively over my heart.

“Daddy,” she murmured, sleepy and content, “next weekend’s going to be insane.”

I kissed her forehead, pulled the covers up over us both. “Yeah, baby. It is.”

She was asleep within minutes, breath warm against my skin, fingers twitching occasionally in dreams I could only imagine.

I held her close and let the quiet night settle around us, the promise of the coming weekend already thrumming under my skin like a second heartbeat.

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Continues with Daughter’s Soccer Team Pt 6 – Vanessa Completes Us

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