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To plummet his paternal, optimistic desires, here you stood. Floppy ears, a wagging tail, tufts of fur sticking in places that were nothing out of the ordinary for a pup like you. A permanent stain on the Kennedy name that he could not be more than embarrassed to take responsibility for. But in the end, Leon was still your daddy. Through and through. He tried to love you, really, he did. Put up with the same shit your momma pulled on him back in the glory days of two, solitude mutts under the trance of puppy love.

But those were different times, and with passing years came the burden of age sinking its unwanted claws into his skin. You’ve seen how he used to be—more threads of blonde lining his scalp over that accustomed silver, flexing limbs that barely ached and spasmed when he’d be let out to fetch the newspaper, and a mean gleam in that cobalt gaze which boas ted his determination, his will to take his mutt-thorough life further than whatever bum-fuck predicament the shelter had placed him in.

Back to said predicament at hand; he had six puppies to his name and a wife who could barely get it up with anymore, leaving her to her own devices of laying under the sun’s rays casted through translucent curtains and bearing those razor-tipped canines if Leon had even tried to insinuate signs of intimacy. That’s right. The fact had totally slipped his mind more than one time—this was a woman Leon was dealing with. A fully matured, overburdened woman who had eased out of puppyhood years ago. Liveliness had died inside of her years ago, leaving a lethargic husk of what used to be in place.

Then there was you. Thriving, pampered little you who could not look more like her, act like her, hover at his side as she once did.

Fathers knew their daughters the best, practically reads you like an open book, such as the grooves lining his palms and have been etched into the coarse flesh for a lifetime. He had been there for your first heartbreak, where there had been another mutt over and found himself uninterested in reciprocating your boundless love, wiped your tears when they dewed at the surface of his fur, coddled you senseless till it turned to dependence over independence. You had always been more of a daddy’s girl, it was only in your nature (with a family like yours, pieces of an Electra-complex were bound to shift into place eventually).

And consistent pampering was destined to put you on your worst behavior—putting your paws down in retaliation, pointing your nose in the air, always insisting on compliance. This was not how things were supposed to be. He had grown to be too lenient, too softened around the edges when it came to his youngest, and perhaps age had came into play for that matter. Old man sentimentality is no joke to your daddy where his heart tends to be worn more on his sleeve than to beat senselessly against his ribcage, dictating his emotions towards the rights and wrongs.

As much as a prized pooch you were, none of this could be dragged out any longer. Misdemeanor earned you punishment, and punishment is what kept the Kennedy name within that status of worthiness in check. Putting the over-indulged priss back in her place. Extreme measures and obedience and all.

Leon was here again, flopped with a pudgy stomach up towards the ceiling, grunting as you tried to make yourself comfortable clambering on top of him. His tails flicks below him in annoyance, ears pinned back in a means of defense, but you knew he would never hurt you, or, at least not on purpose. Such matters were only apart of your daily routine—play-fight with your siblings, poke your way to the food bowl, pad around the floorboards until you found him in solitude.

The spare bedroom to your owner’s apartment had been his temporary sanctuary for… possibly one, two years running now. It’s been the only part of his day where a sense of tranquility grew stagnant in the usually lively air, lacking of his wife, his children, his responsibilities. Nothing to blame him for, though. Spending his early twenties, late thirties active on law enforcement and wasting away in the bowels of fatherhood were no joke. Your poor, poor daddy is one sad, retired trophy of his former self.

To pile onto his aching, stiff-boned afflictions, your limbs kicked and kneaded Leon back into reality, small tail pat-pat-patting against his pelvis like its got nothing to lose, face now a mere few inches away from his where your ears drooped down to accompany the sloped position. Almost like seeing the girl he once loved again, younger and playful and retains that Wildcard persona to her. Oh, how he loved and hated the dichotomy of fatherhood; either get his cock hard at the very face he lended a hand in making, or play the part of white picket fence, nuclear family domesticity.

“Daddy, I wanna play!” you yip enthusiastically, pressing your paws into his doughy chest, nose poking into his rough cheek where a layer of decent stubble laid,

“Didn’t you just do that with the others?” Leon sighs, taking his hands and slotting them under your arms to tug you a few inches away.

You pout, furrowing your brows and taking advantage of the airtime he gives you to squirm about till you’re out of his clutch again, earning a hearty umph as the weight hits his chest straight in the dab-smack center. “Yeah… but,” you pause, rubbing your cheek to his affectionately while there’s this gleam of manipulation beaming as stars in your eyes, “wanna spend time with you, the others are mean, they gave me a nasty bruise, look, right on my arm!”

“That’s just the things ways go, pup,” he shrugs indifferently, not even bothering to give the blemish a look before splaying an arm across his face to guard himself from the nearby sun, from your slobbering face, from literally everything that was getting under his skin, “you know, you’re getting older—you ain’t a little thing anymore, it’s time you get used to fending for yourself.”

“I know, and I try,” you retaliate, settling across his chest and putting yourself nose-to-nose, tits-to-tits with him, strewn about as if you owned every inch of his being (vice-versa to be honest in such circumstances), “but you have no idea how hard it is for me, oh my god, daddy—“ the tugging pout makes a return to your lips, rosy and professionally reserved for his bruising affection, “they’re real mean to me no matter how nice I am.”

He sighs, “Ain’t gonna cut it, sweetheart,” his pale, declining eyes of youth stare right back into your youthful ones, looking into a mirror of what had used to be when he moves his arm away slightly, “if they’re tough, then you can be too,” he shrugs indifferently, taking a free hand and rubbing your back in whatever consolidation was left in him, “didn’t raise my girl to be like this, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sniffle, giving another nudge to his nose for good measure, if he, by some divine intervention, decided to give into those puppy eyes and pressing paws lathering their prints to his chest.

It was in the eyes, and the paws, and the blossoming fat at your chest underneath velvety layers that protruded as tits. Still in the works, you’re not quite that developed yet. That’s a milestone for another day, somewhere in the near-far future when your frontal lobe plants its seeds in that head of yours. When he ogles brazenly at your form, the less you are your momma and the more you are his daughter. Made of his blood, born of joined flesh, unconditionally sappy and doing what every pup does; beg, whine, flick her tail around her daddy’s crotch—as if that were the most normal thing in the world—and tilt her head in a show of innocent curiosity.

A pervert Leon was. Some shameless, old rugged dog who’s still got a few kicks to his bone before it came to the bucket. One thing about him is that he could admire a good piece of work, especially when it had been laid out in front of him for the taking. Good tits, pretty face, soft ears and tail—it’s everything he’s ever wanted, or, at least he thinks it is in the heat of the moment.

He’s gonna regret this forever.

“You’re gonna get nowhere in life acting like this,” he tells you fatherly, edging on a hidden depravity, while his palms move to smooth reach to smooth over the backs of your thighs, moving up your lower back and settling at the center there, “can’t just be… stepping in whenever you’ve got troubles, honey.”

You shiver at his wandering touch, teeth gnawing your cheek, “Wanna be better—wanna get better for you, dad,” you whine, hanging your head and giving him a front row view of your blissed face, eyelashes fluttering closed and ears bent in half, “I’d do anything to make you love me.”

Under the blazing cascade of the sun, his stubbled jaw visibly clenches in a movement that reflects a partial guilt bubbling to the surface, I’m gonna regret this forever, while your pleas of desperation do it for him. The final tipping point before the descent. He moves his face in to press chaste kisses against your cheeks, smothering you in perverse affection and takes the distraction to sweep you under him where your body is put on full exhibition. His tail rests against your knee while it’s his turn to clamber on top of you, brawny arms holding his weight up as his lips move to find yours.

Leaks of raw ecstasy began penetrating your flesh, your bones, going straight to the throbbing heat doubling on itself inside of your modest panties. When he closes the gap no father-daughter relationship should ever cross, you feel a carnal hunger crawl up your spine, causing you to throw your arms around his shoulders, hands moving to cup his prickly face like your life depended on it. The kiss is nowhere near professional, lacking the way you’ve seen him and your momma do. Sloppy and missing a coherent rhythm, you lick and lap around his mouth, tongue occasionally slipping out to wet his chin and the corners. He feels a fleeting grin rise to his lips but it’s quick to be pushed down for your own sake. After all, this was his responsibility—be the guiding hand in everything you didn’t or hadn’t know.

His tongue acts as a natural means to stupefy your senses, licking your dull canines, the muscle intertwining with your own and getting a feel at the row of softened gums. Then, he pulls off with a string of bridging spit connecting your lips to his, moving down to your clammy neck, your stomach, reaching your covered mound which is earned one of his more earnest kisses. Leon wastes no time in hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties, lifting your legs slightly to get them off and discarded.

Right there staring back at him in the face of his own debauched wants were the repercussions. Chubby pussy lips sheen with evidenced arousal, swollen clit peeking out beneath the hood, silky and so utterly his for the taking. He takes two fingers and spreads you open efficiently, pulling a surprised yap from your lips while he gets a better look at your insides. Wastes no time in burying his head between your warm thighs, propping your legs on his broad shoulders and leaving a long, wet stripe across the steam of your pussy. Makes you feel whole, sedating what had put you on the worst of your behaviors in the first place.

Throwing your head back, you feel yourself surrender to the overwhelming sensation—ears scattered in a halo where your head laid, fingers finding purchase among the fields of flaxen-gray, pulling and twisting when things got a little too much for you. Leon mouths at you in an impudent manner, a barrage of open kisses quickly turning to punishing nips and devouring swipes. Building your tolerance was bound to happen at some point.

You’re quick to yield to his tactics, whining and yapping so loud he has to clamp a firm hand to silence you. Each clash of his tongue to your pussy goes straight to your barely-functioning puppy brain, suppressing a coherent train of thought and fixing to fog it over with a fog of polluted ecstasy. Good pups take what they’re given, submit to rightful punishment for the greater good, bad pups are left to the pound once they become of age—your daddy’s only doing what’s best for you. Cleaning up the act before it worsens with age (he knows because he’s been there, and again, it’s for the best, always the best).

Just as the coil bubbles under the onslaught of his moving tongue, lathering your pussy in spit and trickling arousal, threatening to snap and give way to the pleasure, he pulls back. It’s sudden and without warning, leaving a disappointed whimper to reverberate from your throat, big teary doe eyes shining as a porcelain doll’s as they snap open. You’re left there squirming your hips at him and leaving yourself open to show off what he’s missing, flaunting his handiwork in a show that says you’ve done this to me, you started this and must finish your own doing.

And he does, thankfully, although meticulously considering his bones and muscles don’t work the way they used to. He’s nearing his fifties, you know, or seven years if he wanted to feel that youthful high injected like dopamine through his network of feeling-unfeeling veins. Reaching down, a hand latches onto his belt and undoes the glittering buckle precisely yet desperately, shoving the encasing denim off those well-built thighs once free along with his briefs.

It was… certainly something. In the best way possible. No wonder your momma’s ended up with six pups to her name, plus a complex, ongoing and nearly miserable wedlock that this kept it alive. He’s not all that huge, but it’s most definitely above average. Hangs heavy against his inner thigh, twitching and leaking at the blunt head which leaves a translucent, moonlit trail. Pathetically, you try to make a grab for him with an outstretched arm but Leon is quick to move into position—slotting his domineering form between your wet thighs, eager for his claim, sinking his teeth into the carnage of your innocence.

Leon grabs either of your hips tightly in a bruising grip, bearing his teeth on the edge of a near-snarl while he prods his cock against your pussy. His head dragging along your hot folds, dousing himself in your slick, getting off on the way you squirm in impatience. In an act of perverted chivalry, he has the courtesy to hike your legs around his waist. One step closer to obedience at a time.

“You’re bein’ so good for your daddy, so good,” he praises sickly-sweetly, reaching down to thumb at your clit in shallow figure eights, watching as your face contorts at his ministrations.

You nod feverishly, eyes staring big in a silent plea, “The best for you, daddy—I wanted you to be my first in everything, in love,” you breathe, counting your shaky breaths,

“Do you really mean that, baby?” Leon’s eyes go almost as big as yours, half-shocked at the abrupt confession.

“Always,” you say, still giving a nod of your head as if your life depended on convincing him, feeling the influence of dumbification swaddling your brain in a fog that could no longer decipher what was moral and what was not, “you’re my dad, you’ve always been there for me, why would I want anybody else when I could have you?”

Given that, Leon seals your deal with a kiss, crashing his lips down to yours in a hungering display abundant of clashing teeth and twisting pink muscles. The smell of sex wafts in the air like a natural aphrodisiac, getting to his head and giving a good push in the right direction. Literally. He makes the subconscious and crucial resolve of easing himself in, slowly at first, the two of you moaning simultaneously when finally becoming one. Shuddering, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your pristine life, ‘cause sex wasn’t technically much of a major thing to be worried about for the next year or two. Leon seems to be be aware of your chastity—he had to, it’s his rightful paternal duty—exhaling in relief and resting a palm under your leg where it’s brought up to one shoulder.

Hearty grunts muffle beyond clamped rows of teeth while he watches himself disappear inside you with every thrust, heart reverberating against his chest, his ribcage, his whole plump torso which heaves up-and-down to accompany his heavy breaths of effort. He swivels his head to meet your leg upon his shoulder, body inclining further to settle himself at a deeper angle, not taking much to bottom out. Allowing his eyes to shut, the ribbons of ecstasy wrap his limbs and control every gradually quickening thrust brushing your cervix, each kiss his tender lips leave against your calf in tranquility from the first-time pains of making love.

He swears he’s never felt quite this blissful since his own first time, and that had been twenty, thirty years ago on counting. It had been rare for his dick to get this wet when there had been the principle nothing and anything could he done about it. Well, except for right now. Your walls were so tight that they squeezed down on him, suffocating and milking him closer to release as his balls slap against the underside of your ass in growing momentum. His lavishing kisses follow a route starting at your foot, continuing down your ankle, and landing across your calf prickling in shocks at your sensitive skin.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he pants breathlessly, his tail thumping loudly against the floor as that sex-high slowly begins seeping into the crevices of his brain, driving him faster, harder against you with jackhammering hips, “the clinginess and dependence, I mean, but also this—just ain’t right for you or me, baby.”

“What do you mean, daddy?” you manage to find your voice at the right time, raspy yet comprehensible amid the soft whines and moans that flow in a pretty tune.

For a moment, a stuttering breath parting his lips as the firmness of authority begins slipping out of his grip, buttery and chafing his palms. Your daddy stills temporarily, bracing sore knees to the floor in one last tug on control and really going to town on you. Both legs rest high on his shoulders now as he drills his cock impossibly deeper, pounding hips clashing against yours. There’s this fleeting second where you wrench your eyes open, catching a glimpse of his beautifully sculpted ruled over with exertion; parted pink lips, creases of age shimmering in a fine layer of sweat, blonde strands sticking to his forehead while his ears are flat to his scalp.

The sight of is kind of everything to your little daddy-devoted heart. Unforgettable, entrancing, so, so beautiful. Reminds you why he had been your favorite in the first place.

“Ain’t supposed to be touching you like this,” he mouths at your ankle, kissing down the slope of your hanging foot, “but then again, me or your momma never really taught you that, so—“ a grunt reverberates at his chest, audible and probably one of the hottest things that has graced you, “awe hell, never mind it baby, I’m blubbering.”

He seals the last of your breaths and filthy noises with a kiss, stealing rapid breaths and the erotic noises that shamelessly flow from your hoarse throat. Leon kisses you over and over again in violent ferocity, drawn-up balls slapping against your ass continually as he loses himself to the sensation of your tightening walls accommodating his relentless and sloppy rhythm. He pulls back for a second, half-lidded eyes gazing down to yours while you cup his stubbly cheeks in small palms, spit decorating the prickly strands wetly. Feels just right this way—having daddy this close, inside of you, your entire world embraced in two hands.

Screw the rights and wrongs, screw whatever law of morality was behind being the hardest Leon has ever been while fucking you into the ground, ‘cause once he’s gotten a taste, his own flesh and blood has never felt better than anything. He finds it impossible to decide the best part of it—the squeeze, the tight fit, the oxygen being depraved out of one another’s brains. All of it, perhaps. Every aspect had put him closer to heaven compared to any quickie or half-ass fuck he’s managed to conjure between him and your momma or with the fresh-faced pooches your age back when he was still a shelter mutt.

You know he reaches his orgasm when his body seizes up at the spread of your thighs, muscles going stiff as a long, drawn-out and satisfied groan slides off his tongue easily. His upper half slumps forward in a shudder while staying as one with you, knot swelling and stretching your pussy out of boundaries that haven’t been exceeded before. Your tail finds his in a contrastingly fond entanglement to your predicament, wagging in a blur of fur. Regular old puppy love, never gets old to him. He cages your head in with two large arms, nuzzling the side of his face to yours, cheek-to-cheek. The type of skin-to-skin contact that Leon’s been subjected to since you a baby. His baby.

“Don’t ever wanna leave you, dad,” you give a weak yiff, nuzzling your nose into sheen skin and yawning big after the rapturous haze begins loosening up on your limbs, an urge to surrender to sleep soon settling in.

“You gotta, baby,” he tries, not quite sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself at this point. Leon searches your face for any sign that, by some divine intervention, that you come your senses, that in the hour or so you’ve spent under him you’ve changed. He searches and searches, trying to find some palpable answer—if anything, your face is the perfect painted picture of bliss.

“Could I at least stay for now?” you blink sweetly, and it’s enough to make his heart feel twice as much.

Internally, Leon seems to contemplate your words, an unreadable expression stretching at the corners of his face. He cups one of your cheeks in a warm, large palm, staring you right in the eyes for what seemed like the first time since taking you in his jaws, clamping down and draining what innocence was instilled in you.

“Yeah,” he finally decides in a vision of defeat, giving a slight nod of his head, “I can do that for you, pup, as long as you want.”

Because if it were one thing about your daddy—not you, that had already been established—he would never be one to break his promises. Puppy love is a fragile thing, plus one hell of a manipulation tactic. Swelling knot, laying his naked flesh onto yours, intertwining fingers much like lovers than family. Maybe that was all this was—the remnants of puppy love, the repercussions of playing favorites.

“You know we’re only doing this because we care about, right? We just wanna make sure you’re okay. Every part of you. You believe us don’t you?” You might’ve said yes if under any other circumstances, one that doesn’t involve the fact that your father is slowly moving from spreading your cunt with his wondering fingers to slipping then inside of your tight fluttering hole.

You immediately react, moving to shut your legs. And of course they move too, James letting go of his cock to rush over.

Leon’s fingers slip out for a moment, pushing on your knees to get you to open your legs again.“James, Hol- hold her, hold her. Yeahhhh spread her just like that. Best be good to your Uncle, girl, that’s family. Do as he says”

James eventually slots himself in front of your fighting legs— spreading you and kneeling in between them, all while Leon’s fingers find your clenching hole again. This time, Uncle James is jerking himself off above you. His cock dripping pre all on your cunt below, his eyes glued to the way his brother’s fingers fill and stretch you pretty pussy. Leaking down your father’s knuckles while he ruts his cock against you.

"Gonna let Uncle James cum all over you Huh? Gonna let him get your pussy all messy, dripping with his cum, just for Daddy to come stretch you out after?" His teasing tone seems to touch both you and James, his hands tightening around his cock at his brothers' words. And you, clenching around your fathers' fingers as they continue to fuck and curl inside your cunt that leaks onto the sheets under you.

"Look at you cumming on daddy's fingers. You see this too James, don't you? little weepy whore can't even pretend not to like getting fucked by her dad while her Uncle gets off to it. Listen to her, listen to how wet she is. Shhh" He groans, the room goes silent for a moment. Long enough to hear the loud squelching of your cunt being finger fucked by Leon.

plap plap plap plap plap

"Fuckkk she's so close Leon, look at her" James moans, his hands speeding their pace. Dragging them up and down is cock in focused hurried motions, his head thrown back for a moment before zoning back in on your creamy pussy. He can't stop himself from using his unbusy hand to thumb at your clit, rubbing it in messy circles, spready your slick around.

"Mmff fuckfuckfuckfuck" the words fly out of your gaped lips, tangled in desperation and relief. Your spread legs trembling around your uncle. Leon adds another finger, stretching full around his fingers while his brother toys with your clit harder pulling an orgasm out of you, making you cum on them. A big gush of clear liquid being fucked out of your cunt by Leon's unforgiving digits.

Both of them begin laughing at you.

James, still toying with your squirting pussy, laughing above you at the way your tremble and shake under him. And your father, Leon Laughing at the way you clench around his fingers. You can feel his laughter buzzing through his chest behind you. Cutting his laugher for a minute to take in the feeling of your squirting running down his fingers and down his wrist. "Shiiiit darlin" he grunts, before stopping his hands on it's assault on your cunt.

Unlike his brother who's finally reaching his own peak, going stiff as he jerks just his tip off. Leon slips his fingers out of you in order to spread your slick lips apart, opening you up so his brother can shoot his load all over his niece's twitching pussy. "fuuuck" James groans, finishing himself off as the last bits of cum falls on your pussy.

"Leon, I-I can't believe you got your own cock whore. So not fair" he chuckles, dropping his cock to lean over his limp niece below him. Reaching for his brother, panting a deep kiss onto him. "Mhmm" Leon moans into the kiss, adding tongue into the mix, after a while -- only pulling away when he hears you mewl.

"Tch. Only bad thing about it is how needy she gets, look at her. Cunt's still pulsing and she's leaking for more" Both of them divert their hungry gaze down to you, their special girl taking in the sight of her Uncle and his brother swapping spit. Your hand laid in between your legs, a single finger sliding up and down your drenched slit.

"Can't complain though, don't tell me you can't go again" Leon jokes, looking at his brother's soft cock. James takes up the challenge, pushing away at his chest jokingly.

"Shut up"

“Quit being so loud, mom will hear us!”

Your brother had to clamp his palm over your swollen lips to shut you up at some point. He wasn’t even fucking your tight hole, yet with the way your soft thighs were squeezing his cock, he had to bite his lip once or twice to stop himself from being so whiny.

Leon knew you liked hearing his breaths become more ragged and vocal while you lay your back on top of his body, which is why it embarrassed him so much.

It started all innocent at first: The heater in your room was broken, so, like the good brother Leon was, he let you stay in his room. Thank god for heated blankets.

One way or another, you two ended up spooning for more warmth, since the weather this season was a joke and horribly unpredictable. His mattress was so soft and warm, it made you shift a few times to position yourself more comfortably, but the friction between his crotch and your behind certainly got a reaction out of him. And weirdly, you liked seeing your brother get so worked up.

You two were strangely perverted.

Which is how you even ended up getting your thighs fucked by your dear brother.

He didn’t even bother using any form of lubricant to prevent your skin from burning and vaguely turning pink, only letting his pre-cum soak your thighs a little. Leon’s hand shifted lower to knead your hips and guide them as he rocked against you. His tip would occasionally press against your underwear, where he felt a wet spot from your arousal.

“Your underwear’s wet. Did you piss yourself?”

“Uhhh… no, no I didn’t.”

“You definitely did.” Your ear was hit with a breath that resembled a chuckle, but to you, it wasn’t funny. He can’t just tease you like this, not when you two were on the verge of cumming. Well, alright, maybe the mocking turned you on a little, and maybe it made you even wetter than before. Especially when his staggering breaths and quiet whines kept grazing your ear.

You could only mirror his moans when he locked his legs around yours, humping you even faster while chasing his orgasm desperately. He spasmed against you once the warm, white semen his cock ejaculated tainted your thighs. He would always cum a lot.

His cock still throbbed between your legs, and you couldn’t believe the fact that he was still so hard. He planted a soft kiss behind your ear, causing you to shudder from the ticklish feeling.

“You’re weird,” You mumbled, yawning as you wanted to get up and clean your thighs and go to sleep like you initially planned to, but Leon immediately stopped you and kept you close to him.

“I’m not weird, you are. Can I put it in there?” It’s funny how his words would only contradict each other. You smacked his hand away from trying to insert his dick in you. “Not today, you were mean.”

“When was I mean?” Leon’s brows knitted together in confusion.

“When you said I peed myself. I didn’t.”

“I wasn’t even being mean! I was just joking. Learn how to take a joke, stupid.”

He laughed at your scoff and when you spoke again. “Oh, shut up, perv!”

“Mhm, n-no” you whine, trying to twist your head from under your father’s hand, bitting both your top and bottom lip in to avoid kissing him. “C’mon just one?” James moans with a mocking smirk, slamming his hips up into your leaky cunt that’s creaming and gushing all over him.

Thin tears pool from the side of your eyes that are tightly closed as you shake your head in refusal, moving your hands to james’ chest in an attempt to get away. “Nope, none of that, c’mon, c’monnn. Just a little longer and you can go back to bed okay?” Leon promises, letting your head go to pin your arms behind your back. Pressing his chest against your damp back, his cock splitting your gripping asshole. Stretched so full Leon can feel his brother’s cock inside your other hole, the thin wall of your cunt pulses from overstimulation.

One of James’ hands that was warming your stiff hips now rubbing fast circles on your messy cunt, pushing his head further in the pillow under him as your pussy clamps down on his drilling cock. “G-god, Leon she’s crying, it’s making me go soft man. F-fuck”

“Don’t worry, she’ll quiet down eventually. She just has to cum a few times and she’ll forgive you, she’s a real cock slut. trust me”

I love a good dp… sue me🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️