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It was just as her Father said it would be. The initial stab of pain was replaced by a deeply satisfying sense of fullness. She felt the butterflies begin to roam about inside her gut and her neatly trimmed little pussy leaked little spurts of pussy juice onto the clean white sheets.Harry rode his eldest daughter's ass hard and for a very long time. He was enjoying it immensely. He felt himself a dunderhead for not attending to Petunia's needs years ago. He had been a bit biased in just giving his seed to the youngest daughter Daisy alone.Petunia was moaning and humping her bum up high to get her Father's long cock in deeper. The sound of his balls slapping against her bare legs made her squirt her female juices in a wild frenzied dance under his muscular legs. When her orgasm swept over her, she cried out in a plaintive wail heard only by her and her Father.Harry shot his load deep into Petunia's gut. He grabbed her long flowing hair and pulled her head up so he could see her eyes. @@@@@@@@@@@@ Cut away. Cleared away. A vast forest leveled and torn out from the root. Light speared in through a million holes in his eyes. He opened them and took a breath to scream. Rape of the lungs. More air than any thing could possibly need. A trachea battered and shocked with the harsh, viscous reality of the body’s duties. Breathing was a violation on par with a knife wound. How dare my body receive this? A wave of hideous nausea, then. Frame shaking, breath-stopping (oh thank you) blackout nausea, the kind a parent experiences seeing their child snatched away by random circumstance. And oh now he hated the word tactile. Hate. Hated it. Found that word and held on, hating and seeing and breathing and feeling. And now something sharp and thick had found its way under his screaming skin, puncturing through veins and tissue. He ran towards the darkness, loving his hatred, thankful for its cool, metallic surface. And then he was skating, sliding forever, fiercely glad to again.
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