You press your lips against each scar, dancing your tongue over the longer, deeper ones. And me? I squeeze your squishy ass through cotton shorts alre...dy damp with the heady, creamy arousal I’ve secretly been craving more than the coke and the heroine and the art, because, in a way, she was a Monet, or a twisted Picasso. Rare. Undefinable. You are the eccentric, the modern odd, like Warhol. Whenever we got together, she was always the only canvas that ever mattered. She’d have me paint her with. “No…no baby, no…” But Mr. Miller pushed my head down and I was greedy for it. I opened my mouth and even as he said no my daddy grabbed his hard cock and held it up for me. I slid my mouth all the way down his shaft, gagging on the nine inches. I blew cum right then, my father’s cock was buried in my throat and my mother’s mouth was hot and wet at my cunt. Mommy wasn’t eating me but every time she struggled to get away her lips and tongue reamed my cunt. I was in heaven, being a nasty. More

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