erik-593333 @erik-593333
It was a lovely day in Ireland when I first discovered the joy of sex. At eighteen years old, I had already learned so much from my father about love and desire. My fair skin glistened as we made love on a bed covered with soft sheets and fluffy pillows. The smell of fresh Irish air filled the room and my brown eyes sparkled with excitement whenever he touched me.
I remember one night, in particular, when I couldn't stop giggling because of the way he would make me feel. It was like there were no worries in the world; just pure joy and pleasure. My hair, which had a beautiful ginger color, bounced wildly as we moved around each other's bodies. And my breasts - they were always so sensitive to his touch.
One day, I decided to have sex with my father without him asking me first. It was my choice, but he was happy about it because he knew that our love for each other would never fade away. I loved him more than anything in this world and I couldn't imagine life without him by my side. We laughed together every night when we made love, which felt like the most natural thing to do.
But now everything has changed. My dad is dead and I'm left all alone with nothing but memories of our time together. Memories that are slowly fading away because no one remembers what happened between us. And it hurts to remember how beautiful and strong he was when we were young. I know that some people might say
