Lola’s POV
That night, I lay with Aniston on the hammock, sipping the fruit juice that her father had gotten for us. The hammock swung forth and back, while we giggled in it, wearing just sarong.
Suddenly, I recalled the sweet moment I had with her father just a few hours ago. That man was a god, no doubt. I still bore all the moves of his body in me, and how I responded to him eagerly.
He had claimed me, taken me once at the store, and then again in the restroom where he intended to clean me up.
Feeling his shaft deep in me was the sweetest thing ever, and the way he handled me. I lost count of how many times I cummed on his dìck. I convulsed so many times while he was in me, and the feeling was heaven.
He had whispered to me that my moans were like meals to him, whereas I craved his
