#358641 - She said: … Peter (my father’s name)… darling (I felt like someone punched me in the stomach)…hurting me…oh yes…oh no…please, faster… He said: …my little tart…tight cunny…fuck uncle Peter (the feeling of nausea hit me hard this time)…that’s it…that’s it…fuck your uncle Peter, sweetheart… I stood still for what seemed like forever. She had beautiful, round breasts, which were now showing the traces of fingers where my dad had been squeezing them. “It’s okay, Ang.
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