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I covered her wet panties with my mouth and pushed my mouth over her wet dripping pussy. I sucked the moisture out of her panties and swallowed it. The taste was wonderful.At this time, my niece was moaning. She was arching her back, then bucking forward and jamming her pussy into my mouth. She was shuttering as I came back up to her face and kissed her with her juice all over my mouth. She hungrily sucked it all in while kissing me deeply. She was so hungry.I Smiled at her and said, “You’ve had a couple of tremors, are you ready for the big 7.2?”She smiled back and said in a somewhat shaky voice, “7.2. Is that the Richter Scale, or your dick size?“Both,” I said as I went back down on her. When I got to her panties, I peeled them off and saw that her pussy had started to open. After kissing her thighs I worked up and spread her inner lips with my tongue. I looked at that beautiful pussy and saw the inner lips had spread and looked like butterfly wings which ended at her hooded clit.. "Fancy seeing you again. What are you still doing here?" I inquired."Oh my friend went home and I have to figure out how I'm getting to her place" Well I was going to grab a coffee, you care to join me?" I asked. I knew there was a Tim Horton's around the corner and she accompanied me on the walk. It happened to be closed, it was around 1am so I asked if she'd care to go a little further to see if there was any place open to grab a drink of some sort. Eventually, we found something and sat down and had a bullshit chit chat and hung out for a bit. What I'm noticing about being around drunk people when I'm sober is they will tell you the same thing over and over. It kind of gets irritating so you really have to steer the conversation. We finished up and got out of there and headed back to the venue. When I got back, the van that was taking me back to the hotel had already left, but I saw it pulling back in when I arrived. Apparently, the other fellows had been given a lift and I was.
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A dilapidated boathouse sat, or rather leaned, on the bank of the Mist River. I remembered my father telling me what a great place it was, and how his business guests enjoyed being put up there.I was shaking with a nameless fear as I stopped in front of the inn. Nothing new--I had the shakes at intervals ever since Mother died. It was suddenly hard to see anything, so I know I had to stop before the black images completely obscured my vision.The sign out front was faded and almost illegible, but through the jangle of my senses I saw a dim light in the office. I parked in the gravel drive. There was an ancient desk clerk, long strands of white hair covering his balding dome, liver spots on his hands and face. Yes, he said, there were rooms. He handed me a key. Room 17, the tag said."That'll be twenty dollars," he told me. I handed him a bill at random from my wallet, which he stuffed in his pocket. Then, ignoring the musty smell of the hall carpet, I walked down to Room 17.Room 17 had.

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