It was sort of like taking her daddy’s guns apart and putting them back together blindfolded as he always told her it was the best way to understand...how they worked and what made them a work of art.She still liked to use the little practice range in the basement and fired his guns using his center of mass philosophy and using her keen sense of hearing to aim rather than actually seeing the target. She found that she was able to hit the target which was the size of a man’s head more than half of. . wait. No, that's not me. I'm superimposing myself as a man into the scene again. Mentally seeing a woman on her hands and knees and seeing myself taking her from behind. But I'm the woman, too. And the man... he's faceless, generic. It's not actually me. No, but I'm going down on the woman. Not thinking of the man pressing his thick cock against my wet cunt. My breath is ragged as the image hits me. "Haaah... haaaah.... haaaaahnnnn..." I'm squeezing my thighs against my hand as I push and rub. More

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