”“Kill you?” As angry as I was, I had never considered it. Hadn’t even crossed my mind that it would be a worry of hers. “I’m not going to...kill you.”She didn’t seem comforted. “What are you going to do?”“We’re going on a little tour,” I told her, forcing her down the first step. “I thought you’d want to see it. It was my wife’s favorite room in the house.” At the mention of my wife, her panic rose again. She managed to break from my grip but, turning to run back up the steps, she met the solid. Was there a dark spot in my shorts right on my pussy. I wished I were shaved so I could have a nice cameltoe. These shorts were that tight. They rode into my butt-crack. I didn't adjust them. I just pretended to work.He was right on us. I could feel his eyes on our butts. He had to be lusting after us. I whimpered, wanting to masturbate right now. I felt the lawnmower behind us. The power of it. The scent of gasoline and cut grass washed over me.I shuddered, wiggling my rump.Then Daddy turned. More

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