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“Honey, how’s your pussy” I asked.“Daddy” she whined letting me know I’d asked a silly question.Good because we are stopping for gas, and I want you to run in and buy some condoms.“Condoms?” she asked.Ashlynn very seldom uses them, almost everyone that fucks her, has to have regular checkups, and she goes every two weeks, I have an arrangement with the Doctor. After her bout with STD’s we are not going through that again.“Yes, Dear, condoms”. I told her, I would give her my card so there was no. They were both rock hard. Whether they were hypnotized or not, the kissing had clearly gotten them both very worked up. Kristy suddenly didn't feel so bad about what she was doing. Yes, she was making them do whatever she wanted, but how could they fault her if they were clearly enjoying themselves? Besides, they wouldn't remember any of this anyway, right? The last remaining pinches of her guilt ebbed away into the night.Eric's seven inch cock was amazing, curved in just the right spot and. I did not want to dance, to strip and debase myself for an audience of men. I was not some sort of plaything, after all. I was a woman. Then I glimpsed myself in a nearby mirror. No, I was not a woman, I was a bimbo. Then I stepped into the lights and was overcome by humiliation and sadness. This was not me. I was not a stripper. Then I tripped over myself and looked down at my feet. But I could not see them. I could only see the tremendous cleavage of my bimbo tits. Suddenly I was a happy. Nothing. Just a moment of heat. I don't remember how it all started, but I remember him touching my ankle, his thumb brushing against the inside of my foot. His fingers worked their way along my calf (because by now I'd slouched a little and had my foot resting on the seat in front of him) and after several long minutes, he stood up, and I moved over. We sat there, wordlessly, quietly in our seat, listening to the tires rolling over the pavement, and watching the sun slowly begin to set over.
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