Little Whore Heather - Sex Stories

Little Whore Heather

... out of her luscious young lips, along with the hopeless despair in her lovely blue eyes as she gazed up at the man who, for the first twelve years of her life, she thought was her protector, was intoxicating. It was less than a minute of fucking my baby's mouth when I bayed like a wolf at the moon, shooting my hot, steaming cum down her throat, her gulping of my jizz timed perfectly with each spurt, as she had learned to do so many years before. Having just pumped what felt like a gallon of sperm into the fucking little whore, I staggered backwards, unsteady on my feet. Shit, I needed a nap! But I couldn't just leave her there, curled up into the fetal position on the floor, her entire body twitching and spasming as she cried her fucking eyes out. So I called Reggie. Reg is a big, tall African-American male whom I'd met at a local track meet a few months earlier. In the locker room, well, suffice it to say, it was readily apparent that God had "blessed" him damn near twice as much as me! I knew that he had the day off from his job, so I told him to come up and expand Heather's cunt. He readily agreed, and my well-deserved snooze was periodically interrupted by my daughter's ...

... screams of pain as she was f***ed to take his gargantuan cock. After I awoke, I walked out to where she was. Reggie was gone, but he'd obviously done a great job on her. She was awake, but no longer sobbing. "Get up," I told her. She stood, her nude, degraded body on full display. I gathered her clothes, and handed them to her. "Get out, you little cunt!" I said. "B-But, D-D-Daddy," she stammered, "I j-just wanted___" "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WANTED! GET DRESSED AND GO! NOW!" She began sobbing again, but she did as she was told, putting her clothes back on. Before she walked out the door that I had graciously opened her her, she looked back at me, eyes searching, pleading for evidence of love from me. I just laughed and pushed her out the door, slamming and locking it behind her. Three days later, I got a call from my ex-wife, saying that Heather had committed suicide the previous night by slashing her wrists. I asked what funeral home Heather was in, figuring I could sneak at least one more shot of jism into her cunt, but Sylvia wouldn't tell me. She even had the nerve to insinuate that I actually had something to do with our slutfuck daughter killing herself! Women are such bitches.