Shae didn’t really care if she beat me. Our bodies trembled in shared ecstasy, muscles vibrating and twitching, the jerking motions of my cock squeezing the milky fluid of our love up into her womb. Trying to ignore the aching throb at my crotch, I took my hands off my daughter and grabbed my controller again. I could still beat Shae in most games, but I had to admit she was getting a lot better. Another cry, wordless, rich with the hunger that spurred her body, a rampant and desperate need to have her daddy’s cock splitting her pussy, engorged flesh cramming itself inside her. She had taken over, legs working to thrust herself up and down on me. “Fine. Going too fast just hurt her. Hold still!” Shae was leaning forward intently on the couch next to me, mashing buttons crazily. I didn’t need to see it. Our pace increased. She stared down at it, eyes shining with the craving of its firm promise. My daughter bounced in excited rhythm on her own, matching my pushes, the slippery pussy gripping my glistening manhood like a velvet vice. No words could ever burst my heart wide open quite like those.
