Michelle Ma Belle
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Michelle, Ma Belle free porn video
I met Michelle's mother, at Michelle's urging. Her mother had long viewed personals ads in a local newspaper until Michelle finally said, "Mom, just respond to one!" Her mother did, and the rest is history (we've been married almost 17 years.)
When I first met Michelle (she was in her teens), we hit it off right away. Something in our personalities brought us together. Of course, the last thing I thought of was sex when it came to Michelle. I sensed, however, that there was something special between us. She became the daughter I'd never had. She and I had hugged, and teased, and - occasionally - tickled.
Time went on, and before long it was time for Michelle to graduate from high school. We had the usual celebrations, and then the hubbub was over. Time to settle in for Michelle. NOTE: Michelle had played softball for years of her youth - and she was very accomplished.
One Saturday, I was home alone. My wife was out for the day, and Michelle was - as usual - playing softball. Around midday, Michelle came home. I shouted out my usual, "Hi, sweetie! How was the game?" She was silent, and I saw her hobble into the living room.
"What happened?" I asked her.
"Oh, I pulled a hammie! No big deal." Well, with her noticeable injury, I thought it was a biggie.
"OK, young lady. Let's get you upstairs and out of your uniform. I'll take a look at your leg." I pulled Michelle close to me and helped her up the stairs.
We got to her room, and I said, "Take off your uniform. I'll draw a hot bath for you!" Michelle saw me as a leader, so followed my advice.
I prepared the bath, and called her into the bathroom. She came in wearing only a robe. I told Michelle to soak for about fifteen minutes, and then I'd check out her leg. I pulled the bathroom door mostly closed, but a small crack permitted viewing into the bathroom. When I heard Michelle's body begin to slosh the water, I took the opportunity to take a peek. She lay back in the tub - her Ruben-esque form visible above the water.
I got out some massage lotion and some towels. I spread them on Michelle's bed, and waited for her to exit the bathroom. I thought some candles would help her relax, so deployed them on a table near her bed. I heard the water slosh again, and assumed Michelle was getting out of the tub.
"Dad, Dad, can you come here?" She rarely called me "Dad," as I was her step-dad. I figured it was fairly serious. I went to the bathroom, and Michelle was standing outside the tub - holding her leg.
"I can't walk on it" she declared.
Now, understand, here was a nicely plump eighteen year old woman - dripping wet - and naked as a jaybird. Lovely, to be sure, and I felt a bit of a man-twinge between my legs. I went to her, told her to stand still, and toweled her off. I thought nothing of it but her being in need. I helped her to her bed and lay her down.
"OK, Michelle, let's check that leg!" I began to palpate her thigh, from knee upward. Her flesh was squeaky clean, and she smelled of the Epsom Salts I'd put in the water. Her ample ass was staring at me. Her thighs were parted nicely. As I got nearer her "Promised Land," she had a response of pain. I'd zeroed in on the injury site.
"OK, sweetie, I've found the injury." We did some range of motion, and I determined the injury was not a big deal. "A bit of manipulation will help, and then some ice." I began to massage her thigh, using the massage lotion for lubricant. Up and down, from knee to top of thigh, repetitive and firm. As this progressed, I took a chance and pushed my hands all the way up - brushing against her cunnie. She didn't react, so I figured I was home free.
Soon, I focused my massage on the very upper portion of her thigh. My hands were now concentrated on the injury - and her cunnie. She was now responding with a bit of moaning.
"Michelle, how's that feel?"
She replied, with a sigh, "Mmmmm. That's great! Don't stop!"
I parted her thighs a bit more, and "The Promised Land" was fully exposed. I nudged my hands up a bit more, fully pressing against her cunnie. She began to moan a bit louder.
"Is this OK, Michelle?"
She responded with "Ohhh, yessss. I've wanted that for a long time!"
I was at a crossroad. Do I keep it fatherly and clinical, or do I respond in kind to her developing passions? I chose what was behind Door #2. I totally abandoned her injured thigh, and pressed one of my hands on her woman slit. Pressing, in circular fashion, caused Michelle to begin to writhe. Her ass and hips were undulating nicely, clearly responding to my touch.
"Michelle, let's flip you over!" She didn't hesitate, and I helped her lay on her back. Now, her fully-developed tits were projecting upward, her generous belly was exposed, and her cunnie (hairy, not shaved) was mine for the taking. Through a series of movements with my hands and mouth, I took her somewhere she'd not been before. She felt great under my hands, she smelled wonderful, and the sight of her was making me crazy. My hardness increased with every touch.
"Michelle, do you know where this is going?"
She replied, "God, yes. I've wanted you for three years! Please don't stop!"
I cast fate to the wind, and stripped off my clothes. Thinking with my Little Head (he was standing at attention), I lay next to her and took her in my arms. We kissed deeply and wetly. My hands were all over her, massaging - stimulating - and, yes, penetrating. Her moaning increased, but she didn't touch me. (NOTE: Michelle hadn't had a boyfriend yet).
I had to ask her once more: "Michelle, are you sure about this?"
She said, "Dad, I'veTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
When I first met Michelle (she was in her teens), we hit it off right away. Something in our personalities brought us together. Of course, the last thing I thought of was sex when it came to Michelle. I sensed, however, that there was something special between us. She became the daughter I'd never had. She and I had hugged, and teased, and - occasionally - tickled.
Time went on, and before long it was time for Michelle to graduate from high school. We had the usual celebrations, and then the hubbub was over. Time to settle in for Michelle. NOTE: Michelle had played softball for years of her youth - and she was very accomplished.
One Saturday, I was home alone. My wife was out for the day, and Michelle was - as usual - playing softball. Around midday, Michelle came home. I shouted out my usual, "Hi, sweetie! How was the game?" She was silent, and I saw her hobble into the living room.
"What happened?" I asked her.
"Oh, I pulled a hammie! No big deal." Well, with her noticeable injury, I thought it was a biggie.
"OK, young lady. Let's get you upstairs and out of your uniform. I'll take a look at your leg." I pulled Michelle close to me and helped her up the stairs.
We got to her room, and I said, "Take off your uniform. I'll draw a hot bath for you!" Michelle saw me as a leader, so followed my advice.
I prepared the bath, and called her into the bathroom. She came in wearing only a robe. I told Michelle to soak for about fifteen minutes, and then I'd check out her leg. I pulled the bathroom door mostly closed, but a small crack permitted viewing into the bathroom. When I heard Michelle's body begin to slosh the water, I took the opportunity to take a peek. She lay back in the tub - her Ruben-esque form visible above the water.
I got out some massage lotion and some towels. I spread them on Michelle's bed, and waited for her to exit the bathroom. I thought some candles would help her relax, so deployed them on a table near her bed. I heard the water slosh again, and assumed Michelle was getting out of the tub.
"Dad, Dad, can you come here?" She rarely called me "Dad," as I was her step-dad. I figured it was fairly serious. I went to the bathroom, and Michelle was standing outside the tub - holding her leg.
"I can't walk on it" she declared.
Now, understand, here was a nicely plump eighteen year old woman - dripping wet - and naked as a jaybird. Lovely, to be sure, and I felt a bit of a man-twinge between my legs. I went to her, told her to stand still, and toweled her off. I thought nothing of it but her being in need. I helped her to her bed and lay her down.
"OK, Michelle, let's check that leg!" I began to palpate her thigh, from knee upward. Her flesh was squeaky clean, and she smelled of the Epsom Salts I'd put in the water. Her ample ass was staring at me. Her thighs were parted nicely. As I got nearer her "Promised Land," she had a response of pain. I'd zeroed in on the injury site.
"OK, sweetie, I've found the injury." We did some range of motion, and I determined the injury was not a big deal. "A bit of manipulation will help, and then some ice." I began to massage her thigh, using the massage lotion for lubricant. Up and down, from knee to top of thigh, repetitive and firm. As this progressed, I took a chance and pushed my hands all the way up - brushing against her cunnie. She didn't react, so I figured I was home free.
Soon, I focused my massage on the very upper portion of her thigh. My hands were now concentrated on the injury - and her cunnie. She was now responding with a bit of moaning.
"Michelle, how's that feel?"
She replied, with a sigh, "Mmmmm. That's great! Don't stop!"
I parted her thighs a bit more, and "The Promised Land" was fully exposed. I nudged my hands up a bit more, fully pressing against her cunnie. She began to moan a bit louder.
"Is this OK, Michelle?"
She responded with "Ohhh, yessss. I've wanted that for a long time!"
I was at a crossroad. Do I keep it fatherly and clinical, or do I respond in kind to her developing passions? I chose what was behind Door #2. I totally abandoned her injured thigh, and pressed one of my hands on her woman slit. Pressing, in circular fashion, caused Michelle to begin to writhe. Her ass and hips were undulating nicely, clearly responding to my touch.
"Michelle, let's flip you over!" She didn't hesitate, and I helped her lay on her back. Now, her fully-developed tits were projecting upward, her generous belly was exposed, and her cunnie (hairy, not shaved) was mine for the taking. Through a series of movements with my hands and mouth, I took her somewhere she'd not been before. She felt great under my hands, she smelled wonderful, and the sight of her was making me crazy. My hardness increased with every touch.
"Michelle, do you know where this is going?"
She replied, "God, yes. I've wanted you for three years! Please don't stop!"
I cast fate to the wind, and stripped off my clothes. Thinking with my Little Head (he was standing at attention), I lay next to her and took her in my arms. We kissed deeply and wetly. My hands were all over her, massaging - stimulating - and, yes, penetrating. Her moaning increased, but she didn't touch me. (NOTE: Michelle hadn't had a boyfriend yet).
I had to ask her once more: "Michelle, are you sure about this?"
She said, "Dad, I'veTo continue reading this story you must be a member. Join for FREE here.
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