Competitive Affairs
- 2 years ago
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Montgomery Affairs free porn video
The Montgomery Conglomerate: a legacy built upon the principles of truth, liberty, and respect with descendants that held up said principles without fail. The three branches of the Montgomery legacy are spread throughout the globe, but the main one was centered in the US and dominated the majority of the world market. Heir to this branch and the entire business itself was the one and only Oliver Montgomery. Oliver was the middle c***d in his small family, but brought his family up from the ruins of poverty to the upper-class. His great feat did not go unnoticed by his parents as they approached retirement, and Oliver was favored even in his family. Having been the only one fit for the throne, the business went to him and he went straight to work; there is not a country where the roots of his business didn't leak into. Notoriously mysterious and distant, Oliver’s personality was at best quiet. Soft-spoken and articulate, he preferred rational approaches to problems, but understands situations that require v******e. Physically, he was tall (6’2’’), with a head full of midnight black hair and a handsome face. He was also athletic; Montgomery c***dren were bred to achieve excellence, their genes being of the upmost quality, and Oliver took advantage of that. Not a single part of his body lay unrefined, from his calm and quiet character to the muscles that held his body together; this state of perfection was reasonably suspicious. Having graduated from Harvard magna cum laude and blessed in other regards, the young entrepreneur held a hideous secret that deterred his lovers: he was a widow. Amelia Kroeschell, daughter of poor European immigrants and mother to his two c***dren, was murdered in the eve of December 4th, 2004, in front of his six-year old daughter Bridgette, who lay clutching her broken arm, helpless and ashamed of her temporary uselessness.
Ten years later, and although time really did heal all wounds, Oliver couldn't quite find a woman that was willing to deal with the burden of a man whose wife had died and had a teenaged daughter living at home. It often left him with a feeling of disappointment, but more prominent, the feeling of desire. He needed to feel a woman, her curves, her smooth skin, her hair. Smell the scent of their sex intermixed with his cologne and her perfume. He was a sexually frustrated man, and when he walked in on his s*******n-year old daughter undressing, it made him a little more… desperate. Perhaps it was her strangely mature breasts, tightly held by the sweat-soaked sports-bra, her petite but athletic body, or her toned ass semi-covered by the silk panties stretched over her hips. Whatever ignited his interest, the itching desire to pound a woman senseless, he made a note not to let it without having been acted upon. Oliver was a man of steel; his resolve was impenetrable even by the likes of a God, and he was not an indecisive person. He knew what he wanted, and when he wanted something, he worked to get it.
However, when he was faced with this little problem, he became conflicted. Would he do it? Would he really work to fuck this young girl? The young girl that he played a part in creating? The young girl who was the spitting image of his deceased wife? He had not even allowed her to date, so her body was untouched. It made him hard, thinking about how he would be the first to stretch her tight confines and to feel her soft, adolescent body. Dick in hand, he jerked off to the thought of simply watching her, his daughter who lay asleep four rooms down, fully undress and getting the chance the run a hand down her taut tummy, to caress her inner thighs. Truly, she had attracted him more than any woman he had ever pursued. Lying on his four-poster, blankets kicked aside and pillows misplaced, he pondered. “Aren’t I better than this?”
If he was, he stopped caring. He fell asleep at 3 AM with her name on his tongue and a burning itch only the claws of the white tiger, his daughter, could itch.
Bridgette Montgomery, second-born, Student Council president and upcoming heir to the family business, legacy, and fortune... She resembled her father in personality and her mother in appearance, but was more exceptionally well-liked and respected than both. She was a petite and short girl (5’2’’) with a buxom and voluptuous body. Her large bust and curvaceous hips were usually obscured by her normal attire, but when she wore the figure-hugging Student Council president uniform, the sexiness that lay hidden underneath became more hinted at. To many, she was a woman in white, intense and fierce, but to all, she was an asset. Her vast intelligence and open-mindedness, charisma and charm, were valued all across campus. People needed her, and she did not disappoint. She was seen as an ultimate solution, and quite popular with the students as well, especially boys who had a kink for her purity. However, her father's strict rules restricted her contact with them massively, so she was also viewed as unachievable and hard-to-get. Obviously, that served as a problem when she began to crave.
Bridgette was not completely unfamiliar with herself, but she usually didn’t dwell on things when the moment arose. She had better things to do, but now that all the going-ons had been silenced, she had more time to explore herself, and her body couldn’t get enough. She hated the increasing need for attention, but parts of her, well... they got more adventurous. Her mind ran through scenarios when she would ease those two fingers inside herself, moving at a slow, steady pace. It lit a fire inside her, imagining a muscular man taking her by the waist and having his way with her, and she got more depraved as days passed. Sex with her young and boyish English teacher, fucking her older, rugged art teacher, having rough sex with her loner of a neighbour, the one who had the type of attractiveness you could easily look over if you were not paying attention. So much depravity in her fantasies, that part of her began to become apathetic towards taboos and ached for opportunities for these things to happen. Anything to extinguish the fire deep within her. Bridgette’s wet fingers ran over her clit, her legs beginning to quiver as the slightest brush sent waves of pleasure through her. Truly, she ached for someone. Feeling her slim index finger steadily move in and out of herself while her gentle, detail-orientated hands rubbed her sensitive clit filled her with such a euphoric feeling that sex must be godly. She bit her shirt to keep a moan from escaping, and once her hips had risen off the bed slightly to signal that she had reached climax, she lay exhausted on her bed. Little did she know, the opportunity to taste the ambrosia that is sex would rise soon, and she would not hesitate to take it.
The Montgomery household was particularly calm today, as the small family settled in for the weekend as rain pounded the family’s beautiful estate. Maids set about cleaning up (although Bridgette often tidied up as well), and the teen was seated at the dining table doing homework and paperwork that concerned the StuCo board. Oliver’s luxurious black Audi, pulled into the horseshoe driveway, and met cheerful maids who handed the handsome heir an umbrella and guided him inside. Oliver had barely gotten home from a rigorous session at the gym, and seemed fatigued. He ordered the maids to run a bath while he ascended to his bedroom upstairs, shedding his sweat-soaked shirt and exposing his muscular torso. Truly, he was a work of art, with his defined muscle, chiseled cheeks, and piercing eyes. It was something that Bridgette had never noticed in her father. A strange handsomeness that she had looked over because of the blood relation between them; they were close besides that too, considering the entire family had to keep together and remain united during the time of her mother’s death, but she never really considered him as a.. Sexual outlet. I mean, he is her father. She is his daughter. Her fantasies had progressively gotten more vile, but she was not sure if she really saw her father in /that/ way.
“Huh,” she thought, tapping her pencil against her chin. “We both need it, and I know I can coerce him into letting me do it.” She looked over at the head maid, Katia, and felt her stomach churning with excitement. Bridgette finished her final equation on her homework, organized her papers, and told Katia to dismiss the maids for the rest of the day: She could tend to Oliver herself.
--and just as she expected, Katia complied. The maids filed out of the estate with their daily pay soon after.
A smile ran across her lips, and Bridgette shook from the excitement. ‘It’s time.’
Oliver hadn’t yet taken the time to undress, but instead, rested on his bed, the silk bedcover decorated with elegant designs made from various colours of fabric tickling his bare body; He was still human, workouts still exhausted him, especially now that he was 39. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes. Oliver realized that the water had stopped running in the bathroom and cursed those damned maids silently, but he remained on his bed.
Bridgette, now calmed and ready to shed her clothing, crept into her father’s almost-regal room, the scent of his cologne and the lavender incense permeating her nostrils. Her fingers ran along the walls, feeling the smooth glaze that covered the vibrant paint. The wooden floor was cold against her feet, but it all added to what she was about to experience, her first sexual encounter; it all felt so surreal. She finally reached the large four-poster, with its giant columns rising out from each of the corners, and slowly put her slim hand on her father’s chest. He awoke with a start, but she quietly shushed his questioning looks as she progressed. Her hands ran over his chest, his defined abs, his stomach, up to his collarbones once more; his skin was soft and warm, and she slowly climbed on top of him, each of her legs resting on either side of him. Even if he wanted to stop, she wouldn’t let him; Bridgette had inherited her father’s resolve, and that meant getting what she desired at whatever costs.
Most of her weight rested in her legs, but the hard results quickly made themselves known as Bridgette began to take off her shirt, revealing her slim and curvy body. Bridgette guided Oliver’s hands to her breasts, teasing him, taunting him to take her bra off, to let her large bosom out. She even put his hand near warm, shaved crotch and dared him to try and take her pants off. With a swift and sudden move, Oliver wrapped his arm around Bridgette’s waist and quickly reversed their positions. Now he could.
Oliver kissed her neck, bit her collarbones and jaw, moving at a reasonable pace so that he didn’t overwhelm the inexperienced teen whom he straddled.Slowly, the itch in each of their guts’ began to subside as they found the right thing—or person—to scratch it with. Suckling on her chest, he pulled her bra straps down her shoulders and ripped the join in the middle of the bra. His hot tongue ran over Bridgette’s sensitive nipple, exciting them considerably, causing her to gasp suddenly. Another obscure kiss over the second nipple and he completed the pair.
“Greedy pig!” she scolded as her father smirked back up at her.
Oliver moved down to Bridgette’s jean buttons, and it wasn’t long before they were on the floor along with her shirt and bra, and he slowly slid off her panties to reveal her soaking pussy, glistening in the light. Bridgette really should have braced herself for what came next. ‘Now /that’s/ a new sensation!’ she thought, grabbing onto the bedcovers.
You would’ve thought that her lips were two slices of fillet mignon with the way he sucked on them, running his hot tongue over her erect and excited clitoris, then down deep into her. Oliver was considerably experienced in the realm of pleasure, whether it be pleasuring another or being pleasured, so as he picked up his pace and repeated his actions, he knew when to slide his finger into her tight confines, bringing to the brink of climax. He stopped, however, because he wasn’t that selfless. He had needs as well.
As Oliver dropped his sweatpants and revealed his erect penis, Bridgette’s stomach began to churn with excitement once more. This was all so new for her, feeling a man’s hands on her body, a man’s tongue dive deep into her pussy and over her clit, and truly, it was electrifying and intense. The air was hot and humid, and she had begun to sweat slightly, the atmosphere becoming a little more heated as this handsome man climbed on top of her, rubbing his erect penis against her clitoris as a tease. He bit her neck once more, but moved lower to suckle on her breasts as he entered her, his thick cock stretching her. Bridgette whimpered, biting Oliver’s neck. She /loved/ it; her neck craned back, her eyes rolled back in her head as he steadily thrust into her, deeper and faster than before as her tight pussy relaxed a little more and eased him in. Bridgette’s breasts jiggled with the movement, her body, the bed creaking with the force of it. This was perfect, and the pleasure began to ripple through her intestines. Oliver grabbed her wrists and held them above her head, letting her know that he was in control. Bridgette had hear many talk about size, and while Oliver wasn’t the most substantial man in the world, damned if she could tell the difference.
“Mmft!” she whimpered, the moan distorted as she bit her lip trying to keep it in.
“Let it out, no one can hear you.”
With a shallow breath, she replied, ‘It’s not… modest..”
“Like you care about modesty, Miss Come-On-to-Your-Father.”
She shot him a glare, but was distracted as Oliver rubbed her clit. She hissed at his dry fingers. He put them into his mouth and then tried again.
“Much bette—Ohhhhhhh--!”
The combination of rubbing, thrusting, and sucking was twisting her insides, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her body, overwhelming her body. She could feel her legs wanting to close, but Oliver let go over her wrist to hold them open as he sped up his pace. The man’s balls slapped against her and his fingers rubbed the girl’s quivering clit roughly. This /was/ ambrosia.
Finally, she hit her peak, the climax, and they let out one final moan, together. Oliver squeezed her waist, pulling out and letting his spunk hit her trembling body. Oliver lay down beside his tired daughter, the both of them exhausted. He smiled slightly, and grasped her hand. ‘Montgomery… Affairs.. Huh?”
Bridgette nodded, and dozed off quickly. The storm still raged on outside, but now that the two of them were together, it didn’t seem so bad. Montgomery affairs usually turn out to be a lot less worse than they seem, when you know how to resolve them.
Ten years later, and although time really did heal all wounds, Oliver couldn't quite find a woman that was willing to deal with the burden of a man whose wife had died and had a teenaged daughter living at home. It often left him with a feeling of disappointment, but more prominent, the feeling of desire. He needed to feel a woman, her curves, her smooth skin, her hair. Smell the scent of their sex intermixed with his cologne and her perfume. He was a sexually frustrated man, and when he walked in on his s*******n-year old daughter undressing, it made him a little more… desperate. Perhaps it was her strangely mature breasts, tightly held by the sweat-soaked sports-bra, her petite but athletic body, or her toned ass semi-covered by the silk panties stretched over her hips. Whatever ignited his interest, the itching desire to pound a woman senseless, he made a note not to let it without having been acted upon. Oliver was a man of steel; his resolve was impenetrable even by the likes of a God, and he was not an indecisive person. He knew what he wanted, and when he wanted something, he worked to get it.
However, when he was faced with this little problem, he became conflicted. Would he do it? Would he really work to fuck this young girl? The young girl that he played a part in creating? The young girl who was the spitting image of his deceased wife? He had not even allowed her to date, so her body was untouched. It made him hard, thinking about how he would be the first to stretch her tight confines and to feel her soft, adolescent body. Dick in hand, he jerked off to the thought of simply watching her, his daughter who lay asleep four rooms down, fully undress and getting the chance the run a hand down her taut tummy, to caress her inner thighs. Truly, she had attracted him more than any woman he had ever pursued. Lying on his four-poster, blankets kicked aside and pillows misplaced, he pondered. “Aren’t I better than this?”
If he was, he stopped caring. He fell asleep at 3 AM with her name on his tongue and a burning itch only the claws of the white tiger, his daughter, could itch.
Bridgette Montgomery, second-born, Student Council president and upcoming heir to the family business, legacy, and fortune... She resembled her father in personality and her mother in appearance, but was more exceptionally well-liked and respected than both. She was a petite and short girl (5’2’’) with a buxom and voluptuous body. Her large bust and curvaceous hips were usually obscured by her normal attire, but when she wore the figure-hugging Student Council president uniform, the sexiness that lay hidden underneath became more hinted at. To many, she was a woman in white, intense and fierce, but to all, she was an asset. Her vast intelligence and open-mindedness, charisma and charm, were valued all across campus. People needed her, and she did not disappoint. She was seen as an ultimate solution, and quite popular with the students as well, especially boys who had a kink for her purity. However, her father's strict rules restricted her contact with them massively, so she was also viewed as unachievable and hard-to-get. Obviously, that served as a problem when she began to crave.
Bridgette was not completely unfamiliar with herself, but she usually didn’t dwell on things when the moment arose. She had better things to do, but now that all the going-ons had been silenced, she had more time to explore herself, and her body couldn’t get enough. She hated the increasing need for attention, but parts of her, well... they got more adventurous. Her mind ran through scenarios when she would ease those two fingers inside herself, moving at a slow, steady pace. It lit a fire inside her, imagining a muscular man taking her by the waist and having his way with her, and she got more depraved as days passed. Sex with her young and boyish English teacher, fucking her older, rugged art teacher, having rough sex with her loner of a neighbour, the one who had the type of attractiveness you could easily look over if you were not paying attention. So much depravity in her fantasies, that part of her began to become apathetic towards taboos and ached for opportunities for these things to happen. Anything to extinguish the fire deep within her. Bridgette’s wet fingers ran over her clit, her legs beginning to quiver as the slightest brush sent waves of pleasure through her. Truly, she ached for someone. Feeling her slim index finger steadily move in and out of herself while her gentle, detail-orientated hands rubbed her sensitive clit filled her with such a euphoric feeling that sex must be godly. She bit her shirt to keep a moan from escaping, and once her hips had risen off the bed slightly to signal that she had reached climax, she lay exhausted on her bed. Little did she know, the opportunity to taste the ambrosia that is sex would rise soon, and she would not hesitate to take it.
The Montgomery household was particularly calm today, as the small family settled in for the weekend as rain pounded the family’s beautiful estate. Maids set about cleaning up (although Bridgette often tidied up as well), and the teen was seated at the dining table doing homework and paperwork that concerned the StuCo board. Oliver’s luxurious black Audi, pulled into the horseshoe driveway, and met cheerful maids who handed the handsome heir an umbrella and guided him inside. Oliver had barely gotten home from a rigorous session at the gym, and seemed fatigued. He ordered the maids to run a bath while he ascended to his bedroom upstairs, shedding his sweat-soaked shirt and exposing his muscular torso. Truly, he was a work of art, with his defined muscle, chiseled cheeks, and piercing eyes. It was something that Bridgette had never noticed in her father. A strange handsomeness that she had looked over because of the blood relation between them; they were close besides that too, considering the entire family had to keep together and remain united during the time of her mother’s death, but she never really considered him as a.. Sexual outlet. I mean, he is her father. She is his daughter. Her fantasies had progressively gotten more vile, but she was not sure if she really saw her father in /that/ way.
“Huh,” she thought, tapping her pencil against her chin. “We both need it, and I know I can coerce him into letting me do it.” She looked over at the head maid, Katia, and felt her stomach churning with excitement. Bridgette finished her final equation on her homework, organized her papers, and told Katia to dismiss the maids for the rest of the day: She could tend to Oliver herself.
--and just as she expected, Katia complied. The maids filed out of the estate with their daily pay soon after.
A smile ran across her lips, and Bridgette shook from the excitement. ‘It’s time.’
Oliver hadn’t yet taken the time to undress, but instead, rested on his bed, the silk bedcover decorated with elegant designs made from various colours of fabric tickling his bare body; He was still human, workouts still exhausted him, especially now that he was 39. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes. Oliver realized that the water had stopped running in the bathroom and cursed those damned maids silently, but he remained on his bed.
Bridgette, now calmed and ready to shed her clothing, crept into her father’s almost-regal room, the scent of his cologne and the lavender incense permeating her nostrils. Her fingers ran along the walls, feeling the smooth glaze that covered the vibrant paint. The wooden floor was cold against her feet, but it all added to what she was about to experience, her first sexual encounter; it all felt so surreal. She finally reached the large four-poster, with its giant columns rising out from each of the corners, and slowly put her slim hand on her father’s chest. He awoke with a start, but she quietly shushed his questioning looks as she progressed. Her hands ran over his chest, his defined abs, his stomach, up to his collarbones once more; his skin was soft and warm, and she slowly climbed on top of him, each of her legs resting on either side of him. Even if he wanted to stop, she wouldn’t let him; Bridgette had inherited her father’s resolve, and that meant getting what she desired at whatever costs.
Most of her weight rested in her legs, but the hard results quickly made themselves known as Bridgette began to take off her shirt, revealing her slim and curvy body. Bridgette guided Oliver’s hands to her breasts, teasing him, taunting him to take her bra off, to let her large bosom out. She even put his hand near warm, shaved crotch and dared him to try and take her pants off. With a swift and sudden move, Oliver wrapped his arm around Bridgette’s waist and quickly reversed their positions. Now he could.
Oliver kissed her neck, bit her collarbones and jaw, moving at a reasonable pace so that he didn’t overwhelm the inexperienced teen whom he straddled.Slowly, the itch in each of their guts’ began to subside as they found the right thing—or person—to scratch it with. Suckling on her chest, he pulled her bra straps down her shoulders and ripped the join in the middle of the bra. His hot tongue ran over Bridgette’s sensitive nipple, exciting them considerably, causing her to gasp suddenly. Another obscure kiss over the second nipple and he completed the pair.
“Greedy pig!” she scolded as her father smirked back up at her.
Oliver moved down to Bridgette’s jean buttons, and it wasn’t long before they were on the floor along with her shirt and bra, and he slowly slid off her panties to reveal her soaking pussy, glistening in the light. Bridgette really should have braced herself for what came next. ‘Now /that’s/ a new sensation!’ she thought, grabbing onto the bedcovers.
You would’ve thought that her lips were two slices of fillet mignon with the way he sucked on them, running his hot tongue over her erect and excited clitoris, then down deep into her. Oliver was considerably experienced in the realm of pleasure, whether it be pleasuring another or being pleasured, so as he picked up his pace and repeated his actions, he knew when to slide his finger into her tight confines, bringing to the brink of climax. He stopped, however, because he wasn’t that selfless. He had needs as well.
As Oliver dropped his sweatpants and revealed his erect penis, Bridgette’s stomach began to churn with excitement once more. This was all so new for her, feeling a man’s hands on her body, a man’s tongue dive deep into her pussy and over her clit, and truly, it was electrifying and intense. The air was hot and humid, and she had begun to sweat slightly, the atmosphere becoming a little more heated as this handsome man climbed on top of her, rubbing his erect penis against her clitoris as a tease. He bit her neck once more, but moved lower to suckle on her breasts as he entered her, his thick cock stretching her. Bridgette whimpered, biting Oliver’s neck. She /loved/ it; her neck craned back, her eyes rolled back in her head as he steadily thrust into her, deeper and faster than before as her tight pussy relaxed a little more and eased him in. Bridgette’s breasts jiggled with the movement, her body, the bed creaking with the force of it. This was perfect, and the pleasure began to ripple through her intestines. Oliver grabbed her wrists and held them above her head, letting her know that he was in control. Bridgette had hear many talk about size, and while Oliver wasn’t the most substantial man in the world, damned if she could tell the difference.
“Mmft!” she whimpered, the moan distorted as she bit her lip trying to keep it in.
“Let it out, no one can hear you.”
With a shallow breath, she replied, ‘It’s not… modest..”
“Like you care about modesty, Miss Come-On-to-Your-Father.”
She shot him a glare, but was distracted as Oliver rubbed her clit. She hissed at his dry fingers. He put them into his mouth and then tried again.
“Much bette—Ohhhhhhh--!”
The combination of rubbing, thrusting, and sucking was twisting her insides, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her body, overwhelming her body. She could feel her legs wanting to close, but Oliver let go over her wrist to hold them open as he sped up his pace. The man’s balls slapped against her and his fingers rubbed the girl’s quivering clit roughly. This /was/ ambrosia.
Finally, she hit her peak, the climax, and they let out one final moan, together. Oliver squeezed her waist, pulling out and letting his spunk hit her trembling body. Oliver lay down beside his tired daughter, the both of them exhausted. He smiled slightly, and grasped her hand. ‘Montgomery… Affairs.. Huh?”
Bridgette nodded, and dozed off quickly. The storm still raged on outside, but now that the two of them were together, it didn’t seem so bad. Montgomery affairs usually turn out to be a lot less worse than they seem, when you know how to resolve them.
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