He grunted, the bed creaking with his every thrust. His belly brushed my round stomach.The sounds were muted as I feasted on my mommy-bride's twat. My...tongue ran through her folds, her spicy cream coating my tongue. I loved the taste of her. My hands darted beneath her skirt to slide up her stocking-clad thighs. I rubbed at her flesh, gripping her as she wiggled from side to side on me.“Oh, our daughter-bride is eating me, Daddy,” Mommy moaned. “She's got her tongue so deep into my. ” She smiled a wicked smile. “My name is Kristina Morays. I’m an art student.” She extended her hand in the gesture indicating she would like to shake my hand. I took her hand and shook. She held my hand squeezing gently but not letting go for a little longer than people normally do after a handshake. I turned back toward the painting, searching for the artist’s name on the placard next to the name of the painting which was, “The Secret”. There it was, “K. Morays”. “You painted this?” I said. More

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