His voice is warm and gruff.

As his son, you’d never noticed, but now you can’t help but find it uncanny. John Dick has the same voice as Serious Sam, your favorite video game character. That’s really hot.

.

.

.

Wait. No! Is your brain trying to pick any excuse to fuck the very first man Destiny-Angel meets today? Oh. That’s nasty. Your brain is playing another trick on you, suggesting you’re not your father’s son, you’re just Destiny-Angel, some black slut who truly needs a good fuck and probably can suck some mean cock until it’s ready to plow her and make her cum.

Wait… no! And why is your body so obviously trying to flash your massive boobs? You realize you’ve told your Dad you are a “friend” who spent the night here “but no hanky-panky”, in a tone that suggests that maybe you’d have really liked some hanky-panky. You also realize that the wiggles Destiny-Angel (but you can call me DeeAye, everyone does) has been doing to show her boobs to her best ability have also hiked up the hem of her dress, until her hairy, wet, fat pussy is slightly visible.

You can smell your own juices, and you know John can, too.