Who Said Karma Has To Be A Bitch? - Sex Stories

Who Said Karma Has To Be A Bitch?

... scabbing or scarring, the tendon even visible on the downslope to the shin. Then the knee expanded into her thigh, twice the circumference of her calve, the slightest line accentuating her quad, other than that that they were completely rounded. Her skin was so smooth, it showed no wrinkle anywhere, except the back of her shapely knees. I could only imagine how those thighs anchored into her ass, and I certainly did for at least a moment when i saw her. She really was a model of femininity. So long and lean, even at only 5 foot 1, so straight and delicate, while simultaneously perfectly curved. I was in my chair, munching on my pizza and drinking my Dr. Pepper. The girls were both right in front of me, watching the movies listed on the screen picking one to watch. It was some teen movie, and my daughter was gushing about the lead boy, though I couldn't tell why, he seemed like a doofus. But then I was a bit of a nerd, so what did I know? Of course I was in better than average shape, tends to happen when you don't get laid, gotta get the stress out somehow, even more so in that event. Anyway, we watched the flick, I would give it about -4 stars when the girls paused it to grab ice cream. "Did you want any daddy?" Asked my little girl Heather. "No thanks sweetie, but you girls enjoy." They reappeared in a moment and Heather plopped on my lap with her ice cream. It was completely innocent, on both sides. She was my little girl, my life . . . me. And this act was the one way I ...

... got to pretend she was still my baby, even though she was growing up so fast. "How come you always get to sit with daddy?" Asked Karma, making a pouting face. Karma had taken to calling Amber and I mommy and daddy, and we had encouraged it, we wanted her to feel like family. So it wasn't odd to hear her talk that way. "Because he is my daddy!" "C'mon, I never get to!" "Arrrgh! Fine!" Heather popped up and grabbed the two oversized pillows in the corner of the room and made herself a little chair-bed down on the floor. Karma wasted no time and hopped on to my lap on the right side. Her legs went between mine and her feet were on her toes. Like I said, this girl was born to be a ballerina. She sat back against me and her head was on my chest. Her waist length (which wasn't as long as for most women) was tied in a pony tail behind her head. A few strands remained around each side on her oval face. I watched her eyelashes as she blinked. Her lashes were so long, her eyelids only partially folded up. I wondered if she had some kind of anglo blood in her lineage. My hand was already on the armrest and my thumb ended up on her thigh. I got to feel her skin any time Karma moved. My god it was like satin! I don't know if it was an Asian thing or a climate growing up thing or what, but her skin was absolutely perfect. Flawless brown that seemed to not be made of individual skin cells but one big cell. My daughter Heather's skin did not feel like that. That isn't a father blindness kind ...