He thought five children, two from my sister and three from me, were enough. Clint wore no protection. I was still fertile. Only thirty-six.He could b...eed me. My son could breed me.“Clint,” I screamed as my orgasm exploded hard and fast inside of me.My pussy milked his cock, eager for my son's incestuous seed as he pounded me hard. Ripples of bliss flowed out of my pussy and washed through my body. I gasped and moaned, my back arching, grinding my pussy hard against my son, my clit throbbing. I was a small boy when the war was over, when the Russians came into my village. They were animals, every one of them, all the officers, all the men. They destroyed everything that stood in their way. They were like children. If they do not get their way in all things, they become violent. The day they arrived, we were all afraid of them, I can still hear my mother saying to me 'Hans I must hide you. God only knows what they will do to the children.'" There had been many stories. Many. I. More

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