I turned my face to Lynn. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call Denise my daughter. I know I said it, but I didn’t mean it that way.’ Lynn kept ...er eyes fixed to the ribbon of asphalt that stretched into the rolling hills before us. ‘What other way can you have meant it?’ ‘The same way you would if you called her your daughter,’ I countered. ‘I always call her our daughter,’ Lynn insisted. ‘Even when I’m not around? Surely if you’re in a store with Denise, you’d say, ‘I’m here with my daughter.’. Having caressed her thus, I took up position between her knees and fucked her forcibly. As of the first few strokes, she uttered little cries, which soon grew stronger. She came just after me, her cunt's muscles milking all I had to give. After having breakfasted in bed talking, I said "I've got another little surprise. Come with me." Downstairs, in the living-room, I opened a drawer under my handicrafts table and took out the fine brass chains that our phone-calls had given me the idea to. More

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