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I wasn’t sure I could stand the tormenting from both of them.Matt kept a running filthy whisper in my ear while slowly raising the back of my swing ...tyle skirt, running his hands up the back of my legs towards my slowly dampening pussy.Sliding a finger down the crack of my ass, tickling my tight entrance through my panties. He slipped a digit under the band and into my slit finding me wet and wanting. He groaned into my ear when he felt how wet I was getting. He took a quick gulp of his drink. Perhaps Emma was my natural daughter. Perhaps. I was becoming more certain of it. Erica's remembrance, and mine, of that party long ago seemed to indicate that her one night stand with an instructor was, in fact, me. I was Emma's father. Perhaps.The Italian restaurant we went to was a favorite of Emma's. We had been there two times before. She enjoyed it, so we were spending her birthday there. She was wearing a rather low cut dress. It was tighter than I thought it needed to be. I even. More

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