Sexy Aunty

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I then felt his warm wet tongue as it moved the length from my ear to my collar bone. I was only in a thin cami and sleep shorts. I squirmed more as I struggled against him, trying my hardest to escape his clutches, but it was no use. My daddy was so much stronger then I was.The tears were free falling no as I cried silently. Even though I hated my father's mouth on my neck, my nipple's still puckered to the point of hurting."Daddy please don't do this, I'm your daughter!" I exclaimed, crying harder. He let out a deep sigh and placed a hand on both sides of my face, using his thumbs to wipe my tears. "Don't cry sweet baby, everything will be perfect. You're ready now. I gave you time, even though I didn't want to, but now enough is enough. You will be everything I want you to be and you will be listen to my every word. I don't want any bull shit or you will be punished." He finished.With that, he stood up, moving his hands to my ass and carried me up the stairs into his bedroom. He. She sat up and put her hand to her back, then with a quick motionwith her other hand, pulled her bra out of her pajama tops. "That'sbetter!" She threw her bra into the corner of the room. She looked at me."So Nic. Dish. Tell us about Victor. How did you end up with him taggingalong with you." Yes!" Alexis exclaimed, sitting down on the couch next to Madison. "Ican't wait to hear this," She smiled and winked at me.I sat down too. I took another gulp of wine.* * *NicoleI was angry when I left my apartment. My friends were having Malbec Mondaywithout me. And worse - Victor was taking my place!I started walking across campus towards Victor's apartment. It was darkout and I didn't feel safe walking despite many people still walkingaround. I heard a Safe-Ride golf cart behind me. I turned around and wavedat them for them to stop and give me a ride.They saw me, but kept on going.That never happened to me before. Usually, when they see a girl walkingalone...Oh. Right.Now I'm even more.
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Darn! It was great that Helen had gotten me this interview. She’d always been the steady one. We’d been inseparable through seminary, where we were both preparing to be ministers of education, but then Helen had sailed steadily toward the harbor, and I’d had to row double time just to stay on the surface of the water. ‘You’ll never make it anywhere, if you don’t apply yourself and find good jobs in churches,’ Helen had constantly said. And she was right, I hadn’t gone anywhere. Helen had moved up quickly in her jobs—saved souls and gathered accolades. She even drove a nice big black Buick. And I had yet to be placed in a church job at all. I was a failure as a Christian. My mother had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s right when I was being anointed, and taking care of her short-circuited my first—and only—church appointment. As hard as Helen had tried to help get me into church positions since my mother passed, I was still on the outside looking in. Helen would have had a fit if she’d.

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