When dad opens the door, Terri lifts her head from the music mag she is reading and raises herself to a sitting position on the bed. Terri tries to ask: “Dyd yr yu gonn-Gurlk!”, but her eyes widen as just then in the middle of her affirmative query dad’s knees buckle and he instinctively grips a fistful of her hair really hard and forces her head down, making her gargle on a weighty spurt of warm goo. Indian Sex This is caused by the feeling of gagging as dad enters her throat and the hairy weight of his testicles, moist with sweat, jiggling against her chin. Her breasts are perky and perfect shapes, like only an eighteen year old girl can have. She keeps repeating the instructions in her mind: “Keep eye contact, bop your head, stroke the shaft, caress the testicles, swallow with the rhythm of the beat when the warm spurts strike your throat,” until it is finally over and there is nothing left to give. “Sure you can talk if you want to, dad,” Terri says and looks at him with her huge eyes. Still, the surprise and power of her father’s warm semen forcefully ejaculating into her throat is just a momentary breakdown in the rhythm of Terri’s bobbing
