Merry wasn’t mine.Like I said, she was 9 when they left, and until a few days earlier, I hadn’t laid eyes on her since. Hell, I hadn’t been sure...where they were until I got the call out of the blue.Merry was quick on her feet when her mother died. At that time, she had not yet turned 16 and was headed for the tender mercies of the California foster care system when she told them about her father, back in Iowa, the father she’d never stopped hoping she’d find and return to.I had learned that. She was biting her lip and I could tell that she wanted more. I could smell her sweet pussy and I knew that it wanted more as well. I slid her panties to the side and searched for her clit with my fingers. She moaned loudly as I found her tiny little button. I ran my finger lightly in circles around it. Her moans filling the room. Running my finger from her clit to her dripping wet hole I moved forward. I pushed my tongue out of my mouth and ran it over my mothers beautiful clit. I could hear. More

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