He ignored her and continued to drive, locking the doors. Lola put her hands in her coat pockets looking for her phone, pepper spray, knife, something... anything. Nothing."Where are we going Sugar?" she asked trying to stay composed. "You don't need to know. Now shut up and stop calling me Sugar!" he yelled at her.She could see they were heading onto the highway, he could be taking me anywhere she thought to herself as see looked on helplessly. "What's your name? I'm Lola." her voice. I had found his choice of wife somewhat curious. At first I had thought that he had chosen her purely for her physical attributes and the fact that she was named for the hero of Trafalgar (How different history might have been if that musket ball had not missed Nelson. Poor Hardy! How would things have been if the Admiral had died and Hardy had survived the fight? Some say that awful fellow Wellesley might have come to political power or that the Russians would have somehow avoided conquest by. She loved those, little did she know how stained they were going to be by the end of this carnival of lust. I was creaming her pussy in nice, soft circular motion. Her tartan skirt was bunched up at her tummy under the sheets. She kept parting her little legs each time I stroked her clitty as if it was a reflex. Soon she just went silent. I didn’t question it or issue any new pretexts. I just kept pacing my fingers working on her little bald pussy. In a little while I felt her hand snake. I rounded the corner and my heart nearly stopped.Erica was on the sofa, kneeling on the cushions as she lay her head in the boy's lap. He had his head thrown back with one hand gripping the armrest and the other on my daughter's head. Erica still had on the outfit she'd worn to school that day, a denim skirt and a pink halter top, only her skirt was thrown up around her waist and her pink panties were on the floor. My eyes ran over her incredible legs from her cute feet, her crossed ankles.
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