Isabelle

Izzi slides the laundry room. She hasn’t showered yet, so she is wearing the same outfit she had on at breakfast. She kisses you, deeply. “You were marvelous out there.”

“Oh? I’ll have to find out whatever I did and do it more often.”

Izzi leans into you. Her hands undoes the buckle of your belt. “I’m very serious, John. I don’t take lightly how much work you had to do to keep us as a family. I want to do everything for you that Mom would.”

“Um. Anything?”

“Anything.” Izzi is stroking you. “Mmm. I think this guy likes what he’s hearing.”

Izzi stares into your eyes as she slowly sinks to her knees in the pile of laundry on the floor. She rubs your cock slowly, lovingly, over her face. She gives it a little kiss, then another. Her pink tongue emerges from her mouth as she gives you a lick. Her licks start of small, and get slowly longer and longer.

“You are *grunt* very good at this, Izzi.” She smiles up at you, but does not stop her work. Her lips part slowly as she takes your member slowly, deliciously, into her mouth. Izzi takes her hand and her fingernails draw a lazy ring around your left nipple. Your back arches involuntarily and you’re now leaning hard into the washing machine. Your hips try to **** yourself deeper into Izzi’s mouth.

Izzi doesn’t allow you to set her pace. Her other hand is on your shaft, and she is firmly holding you back. She continues her slow, steady pace. You feel her tongue flick on the tip of your engorged shaft.

Izzi builds you slowly, deliciously, achingly, and you lose yourself in the sensation. Periodically Izzi looks up to make sure she id doing the right thing, but her focus never wavers. “Izzi,” you manage to gasp. “You have to stop. I’m going to cum.”

Izzi doesn’t change. Her slow, steady pace drives you beyond the edge of no return. As the first spurt hits the back of her throat, Izzi pulls out your penis and points it at her face. You ejaculate all over your beautiful daughter.

Izzi still kneels on the floor, cum dripping off her face and onto her chest. “Oh. Um. You’d better put that in the laundry. Good thing I’m doing a load of whites.”

Isabelle laughs and peels off her shirt, using it to wipe off the remaining ejaculate. She then happily goes to get a shower.