He twisted around to my front with my legs still wide open and painted the tree trunk up my G-string to connect with the branches and leaves he had painted before.As I felt his brush touch my pubes, the eruptions started. I was at the point of arousal so intense that I was ready to climax at any moment. I pulled back my pelvic muscles to stop this from happening. It worked for a moment, but he then started to brush the paint up and down my pubes.I looked down and I had a huge camel-toe from the wet paint and as the brush stroked up the inside, it rubbed against my clit and I just couldn’t hold it back anymore. Steve finished the strokes and then moved away to pack up the paints.I tried so hard to swallow my breath, but a moan came out as I felt the rush of sexual waterfall take control of me. I had lost control and my hips gyrated back and forth as I moaned. The orgasm was so intense. I closed my eyes as it washed through me in waves of rippling pleasure.I was so embarrassed, but when. "My dirty little girl, you’re going to take daddy’s cock now.” The statement wasn’t remotely questionable, it didn’t acknowledge the weeks I’d spent refusing to sleep with him on principle, nor the time that had passed between us, merely offered the only resolution to the longing we both felt in not having one another. I belonged to him, and as such I was his to fuck as he liked. That was what I'd chosen.Before I could protest he grabbed my hair once again and slowly forced me down onto the head of his dick, rolling his hips up to meet mine and feeding himself deeper and deeper into me with grunts of agonizing pleasure. His face contorted in ecstasy as I took more of him, whimpering and moaning and squirming at the sheer feeling of him filling me up.With a particularly hard shove he forced most of himself into me and began to guide me to ride him, barely containing himself as he found my lips.Our hips met and parted loudly, my arousal dripping onto his legs and balls, pussy squeezing.
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