With my free hand, I scooped up another generous dollop of jell and began to lather my now fully recovered cock with it. She was now as ready as she was going to get. I grabbed her ass cheeks with both hands and spread them wide. Her rosebud seemed to pulse as it tried to recover from the intrusion of my fingers. I didn't intend to allow it to recover. I lined up my greased cock head and began to push. Shrill but muffled sobbing issued from the burlap bag as her ass did it's best to resist the intrusion. Suddenly her rosebud gave up the ghost and the head of my cock popped in. Now her squealing seemed to go up a full octave. I felt as if a rope was looped around the head of my cock while someone twisted it so that it became tighter and tighter. I had never felt the like. I slowly applied more pressure and gained another inch. It was an epic battle, but my canon slowly and steadily advanced. It took fully ten minutes, but my nut sack finally slapped firmly against her twat. I was all. I said goodnight to Amy, didn't wait for a reply, and went into my own room for the night. I didn't think any good would come of talking about it tonight, when everyone was upset. I guess I fell back into my old routine of dealing with problems with my loved ones; just ignore it, and it will go away. It seldom does, and it didn't this time either. Except with Amy. That one just went away.I got up the next morning, feeling like I hadn't slept at all, like I had been run over by a truck. I was blaming myself for having let things get out of hand with Cindi. As I was sitting at the table eating breakfast, Amy came in, looking like she had just awakened. Probably did, way before noon. She gave me a little smile and a kiss on the cheek."Morning, Daddy," she mumbled. Calling me 'Daddy' was a good sign. I was 'Dad' when I was in trouble with her. She didn't sound too happy or cheerful, but it was way early for her and she was never chipper in the morning. At least she was talking to me. I.
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