For Daddy
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My Enemy's Daddy free porn video
“I’m the fucking boss now, Bree. There is no you without me. Delaney needs us both. If he makes it to the league, we will both take care of him. I might let him come home to you sometimes.”
Haley Menjivar was unapologetic.
Right after she spoke, she reached out and touched my breast, stroking my nipple underneath my t-shirt. No woman had ever touched me before. Not ever. Her hands became hot coals burning through my flesh, making my blood boil. I had to fight myself not to knock the shit out of her. She walked away from me, smiling, sucking on her bottom lip and whipping her hair around, as if she owned my fiancee now.
The nerve of that bitch. Talking to me like she was the head bitch in charge now. Like Delaney was an object that belonged to both of us. Where did this fucking cunt get off telling me what she was going to do with my man?
What hurt me most wasn’t that Delaney cheated. It was that he couldn’t get enough of her.
Fortunately, I had connections from my training in Washington, D.C. My instructor, Bharka, gave me a full file on Haley Menjivar.
She was raised by a single mother. They never had any money. She never had a serious romantic relationship, but she enjoyed sex with successful men who had money. The twenty-one year old had been enticing grown men in threesomes, with her best friend Adriana, since she was 14. I smiled at the next nugget of information. Her father. He was a businessman and real estate investor in Texas, happily married to a wife of 30 years, with four children.
Wow. Little Miss Haley was born from an extramarital affair.
He was also a local politician who did not want anything to do with her and her mother, but sent her $500 per month her whole life. His wife never knew. He was a white man, Clint Snyder, who pleasured himself with women of color. Haley knew of him, and had tried to meet him once.
I watched in the video footage as she introduced herself to him at a hotel in Texas. Watched the uncomfortable grimace on his face while she questioned him. The way he rubbed his mouth, studying her, looking around from their isolated corner, as if checking to make sure no one saw him. I watched as finally, he leaned forward and spoke at her as if she were an animal. Before he got up and walked away. She couldn't have been older than 16 or 17.
So. I could only grin to myself. Haley screwed men who were taken, to fill the void of the father she never had. And Haley’s estranged daddy enjoyed using and then disposing of colored girls, while he painted a picture of the perfect family with his white wife.
Bharka had given me a gift.
Finally, three months later, after I had advanced in my trainings as a Washington, D.C., political staffer, my trainer Bharka came to me with a packet, and a smile. “Inside is a full itinerary of the business convention in Texas, where Haley Menjivar’s father will be a panelist. Make it count.”
Inside the package was a hidden camera sewn into my jacket pocket, a scanning device to ensure no other hidden cameras were recording, and photos of the types of women with whom he enjoyed long, extended affairs. Profile sheets of their lives and careers. The type of sex he liked to have — threesomes with his buddies, sometimes including his brother, and lots of spanking and whipping. I jetted out after work that Friday night. Saturday morning, I breezed into the Four Seasons to register for the Southwestern Real Property Masters Conference. I had come prepared for the August steam and humidity with light makeup, a long, wavy weave braided onto my scalp, and light, skin-hugging dresses underneath my suit jackets. Complete with six- inch killer heels.
I got up to ask one question during his panel, to get his attention— jacket off. At the end of the day, I collected my things and headed for the hotel bar and restaurant. He managed to find me a few minutes later.
He actually was not a bad-looking man, with his six foot one frame, deep tan, smooth chocolate hair, and sky blue eyes. After some small talk, during which I wasn’t really paying attention, he asked what types of things I enjoyed for fun. I rattled off some of the stuff I read on his profile sheet, things I had actually done so that I could discuss them intelligently— a couple of spaghetti Western movies I had seen with my dad, tennis, and shooting at a gun range. He damn near salivated to know I had been shooting, and owned a .22 caliber Smith & Wesson.
Back in my hotel room, I allowed his brother Troy to participate only if I was the dominant one. He agreed, and let me put the collar on him, with nipple clips on his chest while I rode him. One of the most empowering moments I’ve ever had was jerking her Daddy’s dick in my pussy while I made him writhe, pulling the chains that pinched his skin.
“Aw yeah, little girl, put it on Daddy,” the fifty four year-old Texan moaned in his thick southern accent, gritting his teeth loving every minute of me twisting the chains. Placing one leg over his shoulder and the other behind me at his side, I damn near did the splits. I bounced on his eight-inch cock like I had trained for a rodeo. Jumping up and coming down hard, he grimaced, jerked and kept gritting, giving it right back to me.
When they asked me for oral, I said only if I could fuck him in the ass and whip him. Again, he agreed. We went at it all night. I whipped the shit out of him with the end of a kangaroo leather whip. I didn’t give a fuck how he explained the welts to his wife. In exchange, I returned the favor to him and his brother, chewing and gnawing their dicks and letting them fuck me in my throat.
Clint Snyder was a goddamn freak. “That’s right, pussycat, how’s Daddy’s cock in your little throat? Mrggg...” he moaned while I opened wide. He then squirted on my face and titties, rubbing it all over my caramel brown skin. "Damn, baby, I sure do want my cock to fuck every hole you got. When can I see you again, gorgeous girl?"
I laughed, wiping myself off. "I enjoyed it as well, Mr. Snyder. You got more energy than most men my age."
"I want to put this energy on you again real soon. Don't make me beg now, honey."
I made sure my robe was back on, fully covering me as I made my way to my hotel door. "Actually, sir, that would be quite interesting, watching a big brawny man like yourself beg little old me."
He dropped to his knees, and scooted over to where I stood. Inches away from my hidden camera. "Dear, sweet, hot ass Bree, please let your Texas Daddy have this good, sweet ass again." His handsome face seemed so genuine and smitten I just might have taken him up on it if I lived in Texas.
I turned around, just for kicks and puckered my ass in his face. He lifted my robe and sucked me from behind, sticking his tongue in my asshole. His brother laughed heartily, egging him on. "Come on, Bree, give a starving old man some good loving!"
Eating me out, he made me come one more time. "Look at what you do to me. You got me eating you and on my knees begging for more."
Perfect.
I told him I'd think about it, and took his business numbers. But I knew I was never coming back. I jotted the little note to Haley that you see above, and I sent it - not to Haley-- but to her mother. That way, both of them could cry and lament together, over what they never had, and what I got easily.
I stretched out, wiggling my toes in first class, as the flight attendants brought me a drink. Boy, I love planes! I always get the best sleep ever during the ride.
Haley Menjivar was unapologetic.
Right after she spoke, she reached out and touched my breast, stroking my nipple underneath my t-shirt. No woman had ever touched me before. Not ever. Her hands became hot coals burning through my flesh, making my blood boil. I had to fight myself not to knock the shit out of her. She walked away from me, smiling, sucking on her bottom lip and whipping her hair around, as if she owned my fiancee now.
The nerve of that bitch. Talking to me like she was the head bitch in charge now. Like Delaney was an object that belonged to both of us. Where did this fucking cunt get off telling me what she was going to do with my man?
What hurt me most wasn’t that Delaney cheated. It was that he couldn’t get enough of her.
Fortunately, I had connections from my training in Washington, D.C. My instructor, Bharka, gave me a full file on Haley Menjivar.
She was raised by a single mother. They never had any money. She never had a serious romantic relationship, but she enjoyed sex with successful men who had money. The twenty-one year old had been enticing grown men in threesomes, with her best friend Adriana, since she was 14. I smiled at the next nugget of information. Her father. He was a businessman and real estate investor in Texas, happily married to a wife of 30 years, with four children.
Wow. Little Miss Haley was born from an extramarital affair.
He was also a local politician who did not want anything to do with her and her mother, but sent her $500 per month her whole life. His wife never knew. He was a white man, Clint Snyder, who pleasured himself with women of color. Haley knew of him, and had tried to meet him once.
I watched in the video footage as she introduced herself to him at a hotel in Texas. Watched the uncomfortable grimace on his face while she questioned him. The way he rubbed his mouth, studying her, looking around from their isolated corner, as if checking to make sure no one saw him. I watched as finally, he leaned forward and spoke at her as if she were an animal. Before he got up and walked away. She couldn't have been older than 16 or 17.
So. I could only grin to myself. Haley screwed men who were taken, to fill the void of the father she never had. And Haley’s estranged daddy enjoyed using and then disposing of colored girls, while he painted a picture of the perfect family with his white wife.
Bharka had given me a gift.
Finally, three months later, after I had advanced in my trainings as a Washington, D.C., political staffer, my trainer Bharka came to me with a packet, and a smile. “Inside is a full itinerary of the business convention in Texas, where Haley Menjivar’s father will be a panelist. Make it count.”
Inside the package was a hidden camera sewn into my jacket pocket, a scanning device to ensure no other hidden cameras were recording, and photos of the types of women with whom he enjoyed long, extended affairs. Profile sheets of their lives and careers. The type of sex he liked to have — threesomes with his buddies, sometimes including his brother, and lots of spanking and whipping. I jetted out after work that Friday night. Saturday morning, I breezed into the Four Seasons to register for the Southwestern Real Property Masters Conference. I had come prepared for the August steam and humidity with light makeup, a long, wavy weave braided onto my scalp, and light, skin-hugging dresses underneath my suit jackets. Complete with six- inch killer heels.
I got up to ask one question during his panel, to get his attention— jacket off. At the end of the day, I collected my things and headed for the hotel bar and restaurant. He managed to find me a few minutes later.
He actually was not a bad-looking man, with his six foot one frame, deep tan, smooth chocolate hair, and sky blue eyes. After some small talk, during which I wasn’t really paying attention, he asked what types of things I enjoyed for fun. I rattled off some of the stuff I read on his profile sheet, things I had actually done so that I could discuss them intelligently— a couple of spaghetti Western movies I had seen with my dad, tennis, and shooting at a gun range. He damn near salivated to know I had been shooting, and owned a .22 caliber Smith & Wesson.
Back in my hotel room, I allowed his brother Troy to participate only if I was the dominant one. He agreed, and let me put the collar on him, with nipple clips on his chest while I rode him. One of the most empowering moments I’ve ever had was jerking her Daddy’s dick in my pussy while I made him writhe, pulling the chains that pinched his skin.
“Aw yeah, little girl, put it on Daddy,” the fifty four year-old Texan moaned in his thick southern accent, gritting his teeth loving every minute of me twisting the chains. Placing one leg over his shoulder and the other behind me at his side, I damn near did the splits. I bounced on his eight-inch cock like I had trained for a rodeo. Jumping up and coming down hard, he grimaced, jerked and kept gritting, giving it right back to me.
When they asked me for oral, I said only if I could fuck him in the ass and whip him. Again, he agreed. We went at it all night. I whipped the shit out of him with the end of a kangaroo leather whip. I didn’t give a fuck how he explained the welts to his wife. In exchange, I returned the favor to him and his brother, chewing and gnawing their dicks and letting them fuck me in my throat.
Clint Snyder was a goddamn freak. “That’s right, pussycat, how’s Daddy’s cock in your little throat? Mrggg...” he moaned while I opened wide. He then squirted on my face and titties, rubbing it all over my caramel brown skin. "Damn, baby, I sure do want my cock to fuck every hole you got. When can I see you again, gorgeous girl?"
I laughed, wiping myself off. "I enjoyed it as well, Mr. Snyder. You got more energy than most men my age."
"I want to put this energy on you again real soon. Don't make me beg now, honey."
I made sure my robe was back on, fully covering me as I made my way to my hotel door. "Actually, sir, that would be quite interesting, watching a big brawny man like yourself beg little old me."
He dropped to his knees, and scooted over to where I stood. Inches away from my hidden camera. "Dear, sweet, hot ass Bree, please let your Texas Daddy have this good, sweet ass again." His handsome face seemed so genuine and smitten I just might have taken him up on it if I lived in Texas.
I turned around, just for kicks and puckered my ass in his face. He lifted my robe and sucked me from behind, sticking his tongue in my asshole. His brother laughed heartily, egging him on. "Come on, Bree, give a starving old man some good loving!"
Eating me out, he made me come one more time. "Look at what you do to me. You got me eating you and on my knees begging for more."
Perfect.
I told him I'd think about it, and took his business numbers. But I knew I was never coming back. I jotted the little note to Haley that you see above, and I sent it - not to Haley-- but to her mother. That way, both of them could cry and lament together, over what they never had, and what I got easily.
I stretched out, wiggling my toes in first class, as the flight attendants brought me a drink. Boy, I love planes! I always get the best sleep ever during the ride.
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