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Watching his movement…knowing he can not last much longer…the heat… the armor. and then it is decided. I lower my sword, dropping the shield and I simply wait. I am grazed and nicked over a half dozen times in this melee. Letting the blood flow, minimal as it is to enflame the crowd. A hush falls over the crowd. A pause A moment…he realizes his fatal error. He charges…nearing…closing…sword held high. Turning my wrist , stepping in at the last second, letting the flat of my blade strike his elbow, as he harmlessly passes. The shock from the impact causes his hand to open involuntarily ….and now his sword is at my feet. Freeing himself from his shield, to cradle his numb arm. Dumbfounded…standing there…then he drops to his knees. Head bowed….waiting. With my free hand, I pull the helm from him. Taking a hold of a tuft of his hair I wrench back his head, eyes now up at the sun. Until it is my face that blocks the light. He has lost and he knows it, sadly he waits, sword tip, inches. Why my daughter affects me so is a mystery to me. It is not like my wife is denying me her charms. Quite the opposite, she loves to fuck and sucks with the best of them. My daughter started developing at an early age and now at sixteen is in full bloom. She is literally a sex goddess. She has surpassed her mom’s ample breasts sporting a full 36C cup. And did I mention, she has an ass to die for. Is it any wonder how I lust after her, and want to fuck her so much. It has gotten so bad that I often fantasize I’m fucking her while giving my wife my very best. It was during one of these sessions that I got a creepy feeling of being watched. A feeling that overwhelmed me. I couldn’t help but look up and standing there was my daughter watching with a look of lust on her face. She had her hand down her panties masturbating furiously. That tipped me over the edge, and I plunged deep, and held as I blew a huge load deep in my wife’s cunt. Both my wife and I were being very vocal; that should.
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She felt his hand on the folds of her pussy as he pulled her lips apart. ?Keep them open,? he growled, as his face moved toward her. Her first sensation was his warm tongue on her clit. She moaned, not from pleasure, but from humiliation at his exploration of her most personal space. She felt him lick from her hole to her clit, long and slow, and her moan rose to a loud whine as he continued to lick her as if she was an ice cream cone, his ice cream cone. She longed to press her thighs together and protect herself, but dared not remembering the metal blade that had to be somewhere. He took the cheeks of her butt and raised her hips off the ground, giving him greater access to her pussy. He feasted on her flesh for what seemed like an eternity, before she realized the waves washing over her were no longer disgust but pleasure. The moans were not from humiliation but from arousal as he coaxed her body toward orgasm. She was defenseless to stop his assault as he plundered her.

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