Indian Belly Dancing

Tears formed in my eyes and blotted the shirt that was covering my face, but despite my shame, I still writhed under Rachel’s seduction. Her hand was working my pussy into a spasming frenzy, and I couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure from beneath my shirt. “All those years you taunted me for my body,” Rachel’s voice whispered in my ear, “and you’ve been faking your breast size the whole time.”“Rachel,” I sobbed in fear and pleasure, “I’m sorry.”“I know you are, Anna,” Rachel’s voice chuckled, “but your apology is not accepted.”“Rachel,” I whimpered, my thighs grinding together around her invading fingers, “please stop!”“I’m not going to stop,” Rachel voice whispered, “and you’re going to do everything I say, Anna, or everyone’s going to know what a fucking loser you are. You’re my whore now, Anna. Moan for me, whore.”Rachel’s fingers danced beautifully inside me, sending felicitous bouts of hot pleasure coursing through my depths. I moaned for her, just like she wanted. I couldn’t. I couldn't believe it was actually happening. "Well, I um, I don't want to replace you, Daddy. And I don't want to... Um, you know... Do it with you." "I should hope not. The poor guy is what, sixty-five?" Stephen's laugh didn't last long when he realised I didn't think his joke was very funny. "I can't do this if you don't take it seriously." "You're right, baby. Sorry. C'mon, tell your Daddy what it's all about." "Oh... It's not about you and me at all, Daddy. It's about an ideal. About bringing something ideal to what is already a special relationship. It's about a relationship I never had, with you or anyone... Where, um..." "Where what, baby girl?" Oh, man. It was like all the air got sucked out of my lungs. I gasped just hearing it. "W... Where it's the total. It's the everything. Everything I need or want. Without guilt. I can think in straight lines and I don't have to be clever... I... I can be innocent... Oh... I don't know how to explain it!" I looked into his kind brown.
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