Inside a charming cottage, tucked away in a sleepy French village, sunlight played on the floor through lace curtains, painting patterns that danced along with the motes of dust swirling lazily in the air. The walls were lined with shelves crammed full of books and a curious assortment of half-finished contraptions—metal gears, tangled springs, and mysterious wooden boxes—all testament to a mind of endless invention. It was as though everything had paused mid-thought, caught in the happy chaos of creativity. A delicate cuckoo clock ticked away in a corner, its tiny bird frozen mid-flight at the stroke of eight.
The cottage seems empty at first glance, yet hints of life linger around every corner: an open book left face down on the chair; a teacup with a small spoon resting beside it; and a pair of spectacles balanced precariously atop a precarious stack of blueprints. Not a sound disturbed the peaceful stillness except for—
Oh! What’s this? Is that a slurping noise coming from the bedroom? And now a low moan? Let’s tip-toe over and have ourselves a little look-see.
Oh dear, oh dear. It seems our sweet Belle is helping her papa again.
Ever since her mama passed, Belle has taken on all kinds of duties around here—even some that might make you blush! There she is now, wearing that pretty blue dress he made for her birthday last year, on her hands and knees with her bare bottom bobbing up and down like nobody’s business.
Members get full access to the uncensored 2K video: Join today >>
Note: this is a large file. Wait for it to load or download to avoid lagging. Click the full-screen icon to resize to your screen.
Why, would you look at how devoted she is, sucking like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Her lips wrapped around the most enormous cock you ever did see! How can such an innocent thing fit so much in her mouth? It glistens where she pulls away—a strand of spit catching the light—before she takes him in again with a passion fit for fairy tales.
Her eyes flutter closed as if in dreamy concentration while Papa's hand rests heavy on her head, guiding her motions with paternal authority. There is no mistaking his moans of pleasure as they rumble through the small room like thunder across distant hills. Oh my! Belle is truly a dutiful daughter, isn’t she?
And listen to his words between those pleased grunts—"Good girl... my sweet Belle..."—as he praises her efforts with breathy satisfaction. She shivers at his voice but doesn't stop; she only quickens her pace, drawing even deeper from his seeming endlessness.
Papa's body grows taut and trembles; one might think this story near its climax. But wait! Belle pulls away just in time to catch him spurting thick streams onto her delicate face and chest with an artistry all its own. Oh my goodness! Well! She giggles as he groans through his release.
“There now,” he murmurs fondly as he wipes her cheek with his thumb—a gesture both tender and possessive. “Such a good girl.”
Belle looks up brightly at her papa, cum still dripping off her face. “Did I do it well, Papa?”
“You did!” he replied, before getting up rather heavily, “And now I must get back to work - I’m so close on the new hydropump!”
Belle just smiled and wiped her face with a cloth. “Oh Papa, you’ve been saying that for over a month.”
But he had already trundled off in the next room, humming a happy tune to himself.
The cuckoo clock ticked merrily on as Belle, with a little sigh of contentment, straightened her dress and tidied her hair. She looked around the room—her eyes lingering fondly over its jumble of invention and learning—before wandering to the shelf where books teetered in precarious towers. Her fingers traced their worn spines with gentle familiarity until they paused on one with a bright cover: The Extraordinary Adventures of Clara the Courageous.
“Oh!” she exclaimed softly to herself, clutching it to her chest like a newfound friend.
Settling into a well-worn armchair by the window, she curled up with her feet tucked beneath her and opened to the first page. Her world dissolved into words and wonder, leaving only the sound of turning pages and her own delighted gasps at each twist and turn in Clara’s thrilling tale.
The evening wrapped around her like an old quilt—soft, comforting, and warm—as she read deep into its embrace. The stars blinked awake in a velvet sky outside while inside the cottage, all was peaceful as could be.
And so we leave our clever Belle for tonight: lost in stories, as lost in them as she had been in Papa's loving arms; blissfully unaware of the mysteries that still awaited her beyond the village and its sleepy confine.
Here is where our story pauses too—until next time!
Commission your own 5K masterpiece!
I've recently reopened commissions and lowered my prices.
Get your own softcore or hardcore 5K artwork, or 2K softcore or hardcore video, plus a brief story to accompany it.
The queue is filling quickly, so grab your place early!
Explore more...
