“You know, eat our pussies?” “Jerks we fuck sure pov won’t. Put it over his mouth so we can find out.” I really hadn’t heard them as I was lost in my daughter’s cunt when the next thing I knew, I had a pussy on my mouth and I just started to lick tasting the flavor of one of my daughters. “He’s licking me, and does it feel good. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” “What?” “He’s… licking… my… my… clit. Now… he... he’s… suck… suck… sucking… it.” Barbie told them then screamed when an orgasm wracked through her body making her fall off my face as she lay on the bed. Then it was another battle to see who’d be next, and this time Bea won and clamped her cunt right on my face. I lost track of how many times they had me cumming and while I have only five daughters, I swear I ate more pussy than five before even they couldn’t get my cock up again and my tongue Blowjobs is so swollen and sore. I was laying on my back, eyes closed still trying to figure out what it had been all about finally I just thought fuck it, who cares and opened my eyes to see all five of them looking at me. “More? No way.” I groaned. “We know that…” “…daddy. You sure made… “…my pussy feel… “…real good with…” “…your tongue daddy.” “Glad… oh god my tongue… can’t even talk.” I said real weak. “Poor daddykins…” “…which one of us…” “…do you want…” “…to sleep…” “…with you?” “None. Have to really sleep. Oh god that hurts.” I told them with a tongue that felt like it was swollen twice its size. “Daddy, were very sorry…” “…we lied and promise to…” You scared the hell out of me.” Mom kept saying over and over. Roger told me to look over the stools and, if I saw anything I liked, I was to Blowjobs just make a good note of the stall and how it pov looked. At the contrary. But I hadn’t met any of them and he kept avoiding the subject with some sort of smart comment whenever I’d try to talk to him about girls. Stepping outside, still dripping wet and naked but for her squishy tennis shoes, her eyes blinked as they adjusted to the bright sunshine. There was a soft knocking on her bedroom door, then the door opened and her son came in with a small towel wrapped around his waist. "Shit!" we said in unison. "Yes, Mr. Richards, your question?" she nodded. “Are you worried about getting pregnant?” she giggles and I start to laugh as well realizing how stupid that question was. The problem was her teenage daughter Sarah.