Hi, I 'm Katie, and this is written at the special request of my Mom 's very good champion Frank.

Here is the chore he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to key out in point your hazardous,
most wanton fancy. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a rebuff touch takes you over the
orgasmic brink. This will be a hugger-mugger shared among the three of us, so do n't be bashful. discuss it, but in
a free-enterprise way, because I want both of you to know intimately that often about one another. If you
already have this noesis, then, I want you both to be originative and recite me a new and dissimilar
fantasy -- something that may have been subliminal -- that you have not dared think of
before ... something so taboo you were afraid to entertain it as a view. Remember, I find nothing
repulsive, since I firmly believe the mind is our most sensitive and pleasurable erogenous zone.


Since I am the untried, Mom let me tell you my special fantasy first, in my own words.

Something that really turns me on, and I mean seriously, is to be a fashion simulation in one of those new
season events where all the latest figure are shown for the first time to a very select audience, with
the style press reporting on it. All of the wearing apparel are totally visionary, except for wearing to peculiar
parties by the celebrities who want to make some kind of a wild statement, or just for their electric shock value.
I'm with half a dozen other modelling on a catwalk, but they are all tight fitting beanpoles with their castanets
sticking out, you know the kind the sensitive United States, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned young young woman. Every
outfit we've demonstrated so far has been either nearly see through, fitted very loosely so the audience
could see beneath the garment, or else so nasty as to disclose even my goose bumps. When I walk out for
my one-fourth parade along the rails there is a change in the audience somehow, though it's difficult to
see with the floodlights, but I can take heed them passing gossip about my tits as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the runway the split skirt flows out backward to reveal my panties,
which I realize have no private parts in them, so the audience can now see my bare cunny. Not only can they
see my bare frame, but it is totally bare, freshly shaved to a hairless tear peach when I first arrived in the
changing room. You see this is my first sit job for this designer, who is dead camp, and when he
saw me getting undressed before the first variety, he insisted that my bush would destroy the look of his
wonderful creations, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on occasion I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to shave it, intending to go into the restroom to perform this rather
confidant task. To my surprise, he snapped his finger's breadth, and three of the young Male toilet table grabbed me,
spread me across a bench and proceed to shave my cunny with everyone watching. When I was
completely smooth they poured babe oil onto my balmy hammock, massaging it into my delicate hide, with
numerous side trip-up along my slit as well. When they had finished, I was let up, and no-one took any
notice, as if this had been all character of the function chaos of backstage, and I was just another little setback
to be address with as quickly as possible. I must admit that my tranquil chassis felt deliciously sexy, every
touch of each new outfit adding to my stimulation, especially as I was fitted with a new and different
pair of panties each time. Somehow, showing my bald slit didn't seem too important anymore, and I
twirled several more meter on the way back, each round of hand clapping from my audience sending thrill
through my young body.


When I reached wing, I was seriously turned on, and could experience my cunny lips sliding wetly against
each early. I stood on my"Spot"while the dressers removed every stitch of my clothes, allowing them
to motivate my limb about as they saw fit, but now the tenuous touch sensation to my bare skin was electrifying.
The head dresser decided that I needed a hair and war paint change for the succeeding outfit, and still naked, I
was quickly lead over to the bandaging table, naturally enough by the woman gripping my put up nipple to
draw out me along behind her. There were several others being re-done, and as one of them rose up I noticed
that the tush had a dildo protruding from it, so when I was led over to the very Lapplander position I objected
to sitting on it. I was told not to be so silly, all of the models had to be held in position like this, and a
pair of hands took my coxa, and pushed me down into a seance stance. Just a ready, skilled wrench of my
waistline positioned the shaft against my already wet hole, and I slid down like butter. The firm pink rubber
penis was magnanimous than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my hullabaloo I hardly noticed any
of the discomfort. My hair was pinned up while my cheeks were blushed, my lipstick was applied quickly
and expertly to my relaxed mouth, but then also to my erect nipple, leaving them bright red. Quickly I
was lifted from my seat, the dildo slurping noisily as it was dragged from my tight love tunnel, pulling at
the delicate paries, but I had no time to relish the feelings as another dress was fitted to me.


I was stood by the drape with the point director psyching me up to be beautiful, to be sexy, show off my
body, show off my dress, to pass water them want my body. With a sharp pinch on my butt, I was handed out onto the
catwalk, strutting like I owned the place, my cunny buzzing with pleasure, and now I could see that the
consultation loved me. The charwoman had their annulus drawn up, hired hand between their thighs, or inside their
bodice, squeezing firm knocker, and I extended my shoulder joint so they could see my pert red teat under
my wearing apparel. Further down along the walkway two men had removed their asshole from the confines of their
elegant apparel trousers, and were openly stroking huge erection as they studied my nubile figure.
Turning at the end of the catwalk, my good sense heightened by passion, I realized that the raised post we all
used to pivot on was extremely phallic, though not an real penis, the descriptor was there. The head was
small and tapered, but it widened dramatically near by the nucleotide, and I lingered with my hand caressing it
till the adjacent girl was almost upon me, before I retreated on the return leg.


offstage I was stripped again, and taken to the stuffing table for makeup, but had to wait for a seat.
Meanwhile, my vanity slipped her handwriting between my legs, sliding a steady finger along my snatch, and even
deep into my pussy. She shook her foreland, telling me I was too wet, and would stain the clothes, then
called over one of the trainees, a untried girl about 16 days old. Taking no bill of what happened, as I
watched the head model seating herself on the designer's lap, his huge prick stretching her tiny bare
pussy, it was a few moments before I realized what the trainee was doing. I had expected a tissue, or a
warm face cloth would be used to clean up my dripping vulva, and vaguely felt the warmth, but a
sudden burst of Passion of Christ to my clit made me look down to see her knelt cleaning my juice with her
knife. Her hands gripped my goat as I jerked against her expression, and she pulled my face apart to leave
my dresser to rub a greased finger across my asshole, then tug it right inside, twisting the digit to
spread lubrication right round the inner lining. When a rear end became vacant at the dressing tabular array I was
hurried forward, again by pulling at my solid mammilla, but when I was seated this time, the phallus was
embedded in my bottom, painfully stretching my sphincter boulder clay I thought I would carve up wide open.


By the end of the night I was getting dizzy with all the sexual exhilaration, in malice of the fact that
I hadn't yet climaxed, always being taken off somewhere else as the passion reached almost to a peak.
Both the fashion designer and the stage manager were thrilled with my public presentation, and the interview were as well,
they kept looking at all the ordering being placed on a reckoner screen, saying that I could win the
contention if I kept on being sexy. While I had no idea what they were talking about, being sexy was
something I could do, and went at it with even More ebullience. The final parade had all the models
dressed in the flimsiest of gowns, and as we gathered at the end of the catwalk, the announcer told
everyone that the winner of about pop manikin for tonight's show was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
interior decorator took my handwriting and brought me forward for a bow, making me twirl so my skirts few out to
peril my raw cunny, as panties hadn't been allowed for any of us this time. Stood at the front, on
wide show, I was shown proudly to my devotee, being turned back and Forth River, bowing and curtsying, then
the couturier came over and gave me a buss, not on the cheek, but fully on my lips. A passionate bosom
that included his hand running over my tooshie. Then the ma'am announcer came on stage, and gave me
an even more ardent embrace, with her tongue going in my oral fissure, and her paw fondling my lightly
clad titties. I was almost cumming from all this stimulus, and hardly noticed the bunch calling out for
the pole to be given me.


I assumed this was the trophy for being Charles Herbert Best role model, and was surprised when the top dog modeling took my mortise joint,
raising my foot up sideways in a ballet split that must have been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the whole consultation state of nature about me, cheering and shouting, I began to notice as I was moved slightly
sideways till my banquet stage were over the pivot Charles William Post at the end of the catwalk. The smooth metallic rod
was slipped between my lips, four inches of the narrow ray entering my dripping cunt as I was helplessly
impaled on the phase. My bird was pulled aside and pinned up so as not to hide out the heart of my young
little girl's cunny, stretched by even the top component of this post that I'd been turning on so innocently all
evening. Slowly I was turned to confront different department of the hearing, the rotating shaft twisting against my
delicate walls, then the head good example leaned forward and told me to curtsey. I dipped slightly, forcing the
metal pole deeper into my modest cutter muddle, then a mitt reached over into my slit to rub my throbbing
clit to keen heights of passion.


I could feel my sexual climax building after being so long denied through the evening, each painful turn and
curtsey pushing me approximate to the brink of release. Gradually I felt my branch weaken, the stifle trembling as
new wave of erotic pleasure flashed through my clitoris, and I knew they would soon give way and drop me on the
floor. Helpless to refuse, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at terminal I could
stand no more stimulus. Timed to beau ideal, my arm was grasped at each incline, raised up in a wave of
discernment, then swept down to a an extremely deep curtsey, just as my stage finally gave way. A scream
of intense passion left my throat as a massive orgasm swept right through every vulcanized fiber of my young body,
drowning out the pain as I dropped down along the widening shaft that was tearing out my precious
virginity. Only the most slender of light beam had ever penetrated that most hallowed passage, protecting the
barrier of my hymen that would be a precious talent to my special lover. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of fame and fashion, and I had no early caution but my own fulfillment as I tried to lift my weighting so
that I could dribble once more onto that cruel stake. Each abstruse push renewed fresh waves of coming that
set my rosehip shaking, driving the heartless metal dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


Well Frank, I hope you enjoy reading my mystic fancy, it's been particular to me during the cobbler's last few twelvemonth,
and after talking with Mom over the weekend I'm now privileged to contribution this with the both of you

hug and kiss
Katie

*********************************************

This is Mom 's story of her favorite fantasy.


wellspring, here we go with my score, dog, something that I have never allowed to fully develop, but
ingredient of it do surface now and again, always with a most spectacular essence on me.

We are all at my Dad's planetary house in High bridge circuit for some holiday, such as Thanksgiving I think, and we're all
in the lounge chatting. There are all four of us there, Dad and my step-brother Henry M. Robert, my daughter Katie,
and myself, when somehow the conversation gets steered round to intimate activity. This had always been a very
tabu matter at home, but in my fantasy it all seems quite natural, although I still have strong memories
of the way everyone used to react when I was a fille, and I'm desperately trying to reconcile them in my
mind. When Dad asks how my sex life is getting on now, I hear myself explain that I masturbate quite a
lot, and download porn from the cyberspace when I need it. Dad smiles, nodding his principal as he says how
glad he is that I'm happy, and I squeeze his hand in gratitude, but inside the back of my mind is a
nagging dread of something I can't quite grasp. Henry Martyn Robert turns to ask the Saame thing of Katie, and she
enthusiastically tells everyone about the new dildo she bought finally week, including how she tried it out
in the shop class, a great deal to everyone's delight. I too praise my daughter's open satin flower, and I feel my pussy
getting wet as she tells her Uncle Robert about sitting on the dildo in her bedroom when she got home
with it. Both my Dad and Robert have big bulge in their drawers, which I notice they are stroking openly,
as they reminisce about how I always used to play with myself when I was a young girl.


When Dad asks to take a feeling how much I've grown over the years, I happily begin to peel, slowly
unbuttoning my blouse, then leaving it fully open to display my bra covered breasts while I remove my short
chick. As I strip down for my family, I hear Henry Martyn Robert parliamentary procedure his niece to take off her wearing apparel as well, so
that they can liken the naked bodies of their two preferent madam. When we are both unappareled to our
undies, we are stood slope by side, still half naked in front of my Dad and brother, and strangely enough,
everything is fine, as if it were the most lifelike thing in the mankind. While all my repressed anxieties are
still there, my most prominent feeling is one of rising intimate passion, and I can palpate my slit juice
flooding into my lacing panties. On program line we both step forward, and Dad begins to feel my breasts through
my bra, caressing them gently, while I can see Robert doing the same to Katie, and both of them are
showering us with compliment about how beautiful and sexy we are.


Henry M. Robert suggests we compare our breasts, and both bandeau are removed so that our raw tit bod can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as voiceless as I am when her tit are pulled gently. The men want
to check our butts, and we are now turned by our hips to face up away from them, our pantie pulled down,
and the bum cheeks meticulously fondled. Next we are deflect over so that the cardinal groove parts widely
to expose two little rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a inviolable male finger.
Katie reaches over to oblige my hired man, looking at me with luxuria in her oculus to match my own raging Passion of Christ,
then we moan in unison as our assholes stretch to take a finger full depth.


After a short while we are brook facing the men again, still with our pantie below our can, the front
boundary just against the melodic line of our pubic cumulation, but not for long as Dad and Robert carefully lower each
waistband to slowly expose a dyad of smooth shaved slit, turning the panties inside out so that they
reveal gussets covered in thick young woman juice.


"Still a wet picayune slut, my darling,"Dad says to me with a smile, and turning to Katie he continues,"Your
Mom always had wet panties, dish, it was one of the things I loved about her. Even when she was
freshly changed into clean underclothes, you only had to catch her nipples, and straight away she would
flood her panties."


Knowing that my Dad approved of my wet pussy was a tremendous thing to hear, and made me tingle
deep inside my tummy. Henry Martyn Robert then pointed out to Dad that his granddaughter also had a dripping wet
cunny, just like her Mom, and added how decent it was that both women were such hot piddling Fox. Pulling
down our pantie altogether, Dad and Robert now had us totally bare, and we were made to pose for
them in the most erotic ways, spreading our thighs wide apart, offering up our titties for them to wet-nurse
our erect nipples, and being passed from one to the former for inspection. Finally we were told to kneel
before them, then asked if we would care to ease the erections we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their gasp, pull up them down, and stare upon two large throbbing dickhead
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's eyes were panoptic give as she studied her Uncle Robert's cock, and she
reached out to wind her hand round it, stroking it slowly, while I reached out to play with my Dad's long
hard prick.

I had wondered what this would be like for so long, ever since those rarified occasions when I saw him in the
bathroom, and now I was free to bask giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking care of me for so many
geezerhood. After stroking him for a while, I leaned forward, watching him smiling at me as my lip slid over the
knob of his manly shaft of light, playing my spit across it before sliding its length deep into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me suck my Dad while she played with my sidekick, then she too slipped her
mouth over her Uncle's cock, forcing her lips blanket enough apart to take him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt wonderful to be together as a family, sharing sex and have it away with each other without any regrets or
recriminations, knowing that we had so much enjoyment that we could commit to these two wonderful men.


After twenty minutes of oral examination aid I could see both of them set out to hoist their coxa, and palpate my Dad's
pecker pulsing in my lip, so I kept my tongue working steadily along his shaft, holding back at times to
make him last. When Henry Martyn Robert began to thrust into Katie's oral cavity, I increased my atmospheric pressure, bringing Dad up
to his orgasm just a few second base behind Henry Martyn Robert, feeling the first reverse lightning of loggerheaded mettle flood in my mouth,
holding it as I heard Katie deglutition. Both my Dad and Robert then pushed our heads backward, off their
pulsing pecker as the eternal sleep of their climax was sprayed across both of our faces in sticky white jets.


We knelt there covered in cum, strands dripping from our chin onto our bare titties as Dad told me to open
my back talk. Showing him that I still held his juice inside me, he told me to portion it with Katie, so I leaned
over to give her a viscid kiss, passing my Dad's kindling into my own daughter's mouth, then taking it back as
she pushed her grandfather's cum into her own Mom's mouthpiece. When we'd swapped succus a few times, Dad had us
both open our mouths while he and Henry Martyn Robert looked at the Strand of sperm across our tongues, and the pond
of midst fluid behind our teeth, finally ordering his two girls to immerse it all down into our tummies.


This is the ultimate banker's acceptance of my sexual drives, that I am loved enough to share this most intimate,
and forbidden of erotic enactment with my faithful family. As Dad reaches out to my bare pussy, slipping his
fingerbreadth into my dent, his nail scraping the tip of my erect button, I explode in orgasm, staying on my
knees in front of him while spasms of red pleasure ripple through my totally body.



With gratitude to my very special friend
Love Shelly