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19 Ocak 2023, 22:30
My name is Fiyero Andreyev. I was born and raised to the age of seventeen years, in St. Petersburg, Russia. I relocated to the promising soils of the American States with my then-fiancee, Natassia Kaczmarek in the search of a fortuitous career. After struggling through a couple of harsh years with little money and minimal food, I was blessed enough to procure employment from an eccentric and well-renowned artist from France named Cyrille Amoussou. The brilliant Amoussou paid me rather handsomely for various jobs; ranging from gardening to assistant to bodyguard. During my first three years of paid service to Monsieur Amoussou, my faithful wife Natassia gave birth to my three wonderful daughters. The eldest was born in the month of February on the American's holiday of St. Valentine's Day and we named her Marianna. The middle child was begat on Christmas Eve of that same year, a fact which irritated Natassia most dramatically, and was named Milana. Lastly, the youngest was born on the American Independence Day and was named Marketa. I am a hard-working, God-fearing man whom has fallen victim to his temptations and sins more than merely a few times. This is the story of the very first time that I had sex with my daughter, Marianna. I had recently celebrated my forty-fifth birthday alone, a lonely anniversary I had grown accustomed to the last few years. Marketa and Milana were both enrolled in universities far away in Massachusetts. Neither of them were too easy on the eyes, but both were quite intelligent and had bright futures ahead of them. They would send me text messages for my birthday and I would quietly accept the thoughts. Marianna, however, was far luckier in the physical appearance department than her younger sisters. Despite my now grey mane, having once been a murky, thick brown and Natassia's seemingly raven-haired since birth, Marianna bore glorious, lustrous flowing blonde locks. Marketa and Milana participated passionately in gymnastics for most of their youth, and had flat, muscular bodies to show for their dedication. Marianna was a cheerleader who indulged in yoga, morning running, and light exercise; her body had grown voluptuous, and enviable. Her curves were borderline ridiculous şişli escort bayan (https://sislimarka.com/) at times, she had far more of a rear end than her sisters, and her chest blossomed into womanhood at age sixteen and I remember vividly the first time I had to purchase a 34D bra for my eldest daughter.Before my sweet Natassia had passed away on the eve of Marianna's tenth birthday, she called her the sole Russian rose unmolested by the stony genetics and harsh attitude of the Motherland. Marianna took this heart and as her stunning looks came to be, she pursued a career in acting and modeling. Last I heard, my beautiful Marianna lived in Los Angeles, California and had steady work as a glamor model. Anyway, a few days after my birthday, I was exercising in my humble quarters thinking of this day to be nothing more than the normal routine. I was about to commence the heavy lifting portion of my schedule when an unexpected ring emitted from my doorbell. Slightly irritated, I wiped the sweat off from my brow and approached the living room. I opened the door, and was momentarily breathless at the sight of my very own daughter, Marianna, before me. She smiled and her melodic voice almost sang to my ears when she greeted me with a "Happy late birthday, father!" She giggled, and planted a sweet peck of a kiss on my left cheek before requesting permission to enter. I, of course, granted her permission and she strolled gracefully, in her vibrant red high heels, across my dreary grey carpet. My eyes were fixated hypnotically on her jaw-dropping form as she walked into my home. I couldn't believe what I was witnessing, my own daughter had become a living, breathing angel... or perhaps succubus. Even though she was wearing heels, her were skin-tight black jeans that gloved around her ample backside in such a way I bet several of the punks running around outside had seen her and suddenly forgotten whatever was previously occupying them. Following every step she took, her vivacious ass bounced just a little and drew the attention of any hot-blooded male.I snapped myself free of the gorgeous woman's sexual charms, reminding myself that I was leering at my very own daughter. Casting my attention outside mecidiyeköy escort bayan (https://sislimarka.com/) before I shut the door, I noticed her vehicle and felt relief that at least my Marianna was doing well financially. Sitting in my driveway, oddly juxtaposed to my flatbed, forest green ford pickup, was a tauntingly luscious, midnight black Ferrari F430 challenger stradale.I walked into the kitchen, where my lovely Marianna was leaning against the wall. I am confident that it wasn't intentional, but her body was just so inescapably sexy, she couldn't help how seductive she looked in her posture. When she reacted to the loud, abrupt chirping of the jays outside the window, I took in a full view of her chest. I felt dirty, but I couldn't resist. She was wearing a cotton sleeveless, strapless top which matched the vibrant red of her heels, and was tightly wrapped around the bursting circumference of her hefty breasts. They seemed barely contained within the shirt, eager to any moment just escape the unpleasant confines they were bind. Her bosom seemed to have grown a notch since I had last seen her a few years past, but they didn't appear firm enough to be implants. I couldn't believe that into her womanhood, she had continued to develop and leave not only her younger, tomboyish sisters far behind in the dust, but she was even above and beyond her own, late mother. We had a nice chat that evening. Marianna and I discussed life, her liberal political views, her ever expanding modeling and fashion career and briefly dipped into her love life. She had a few pictures on her cellular phone of past boyfriends. There was a definite pattern in the men she dated. They were all just slightly taller than her in heels, rugged looks, broad shoulders and a strong jawline with a toned upper body that possessed somewhat of the "V-physique" bodybuilders have. I didn't dare say a word, but each of them were similar in appearance to myself. Marianna explained she had came to town specifically to spend time with me, and to atone for missing several birthdays of mine. I can't say that didn't make me a jovial old man, but I was curious of her night plans. She began to inform me that she would drive escort şişli (https://sislimarka.com/) out to the nearest hotel and get a room for the night, which I quickly shot down. I offered up my guest room, and she immediately agreed.Later, I continued through my usual daily routine. As the sun fell down below the horizon and the darkness crept over the sky, I took my nightly shower. I enjoyed the hot water lightly falling over my body, and tried to scrub away the unclean images I was having of my daughter. I had not partaken in physical relations in quite some time. Natassia had been gone for nearly one and one-half decades, and I had slept with only one other woman in that period; a beautiful, barely legal blonde college student whom I met in the grocery a year after Natassia's passing. That young, American harlot was too brash, too naive and too rude for a long-term relationship. She was, however, a great fuck and I plowed her tight, petite body nearly three dozen times in our month-long fling.I turned off the shower faucet, trying to get my mind off my daughter. I flung open the curtain, and prepared to step out from the stall and retrieve my navy-blue towel from over the top of the door. I wasn't completely aware of my surroundings, having gotten a blast of water in my eyes just before finishing. As I stepped from the stall, I was taken aback by a surprised, feminine gasp. Marianna stood in the bathing quarters, and was brushing her teeth, assured that she would finish before I completed my shower. I regained my vision, and realized that her eyes were locked in stare at my fully erect member. My visiting daughter was slowly taking in the sight of my admittedly large manhood. Somewhat embarrassed, I reached past her for my towel, wrapped it around my waist, and escaped into my bedroom.I shut the door behind me as I flopped myself in disgust onto my bed. After several curses and swears and indigenous Russian sayings I'm not too confident most of my neighbors would understand, I sat up and released a heavy sigh. I was sexually attracted to my smoking hot daughter, and the taboo stigma that engulfed the ordeal was frustrating me. My erection refused to go away; my hard cock stubbornly stood at attention, throbbing. "Daddy," her angelic voice stabbed through the silence swiftly. I looked up in surprise, not hearing her open the door, and draped my wet towel ineffectively over my lap. She unabashedly approached, and before I could react her hand had snatched the towel and cast it aside, banished.