Hi, I 'm Katie, and this is written at the limited request of my Mom 's very right friend Frank.

Here is the labor he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to describe in contingent your wildest,
nearly wanton fantasy. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a slight touch modality takes you over the
orgasmic verge. This will be a cloak-and-dagger shared among the three of us, so do n't be bashful. talk over it, but in
a free-enterprise way, because I want both of you to have intercourse intimately that a great deal about one another. If you
already have this knowledge, then, I want you both to be originative and assure me a new and different
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 thought. Remember, I find nothing
repulsive, since I firmly believe the mind is our most sensible and enjoyable erogenous zone.


Since I am the youngest, 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 style model in one of those new
season events where all the latest intention are shown for the inaugural time to a very take consultation, with
the fashion press reporting on it. All of the clothes are totally impractical, except for wearing to special
parties by the celebrity who want to stool some kind of a wild assertion, or just for their impact value.
I'm with half a 12 other fashion model on a catwalk, but they are all skinny beanpoles with their pearl
sticking out, you know the sort the media uses, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned offspring daughter. 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 tight as to reveal even my fathead protuberance. When I walk out for
my fourth parade along the track there is a change in the audience somehow, though it's difficult to
see with the flood, but I can hear them passing gossip about my tits as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the rails the stock split skirt flows out backward to reveal my scanty,
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 flesh, but it is totally bare, freshly shaved to a hairless split sweetheart when I first arrived in the
changing room. You see this is my first modeling job for this designer, who is utterly camp, and when he
saw me getting strip down before the starting time alteration, he insisted that my George Walker Bush would ruin the expression of his
wonderful institution, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on occasion I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to trim it, intending to go into the convenience to perform this rather
intimate task. To my surprise, he snapped his fingers, and three of the Brigham Young male person dressers grabbed me,
spread me across a judiciary and proceed to plane my cunny with everyone observation. When I was
completely smooth they poured baby oil onto my lenient hammock, massaging it into my soft skin, with
legion side slip 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 part of the quotidian chaos of wing, and I was just another niggling setback
to be dealt with as quickly as possible. I must accommodate that my unruffled flesh 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 scanty each clip. Somehow, showing my bald incision didn't seem too important anymore, and I
twirled several More times on the way back, each round of drinks of applause from my audience sending tingle
through my young body.


When I reached backstage, I was seriously turned on, and could feel my cunny back talk sliding wetly against
each other. I stood on my"speckle"while the chest removed every stitch of my clothes, allowing them
to incite my limbs about as they saw fit, but now the thin touch to my bare hide was electrifying.
The pass dresser decided that I needed a hair and makeup alteration for the future getup, and still naked, I
was quickly lead over to the dressing table, naturally enough by the woman gripping my vertical nipple to
get out me along behind her. There were several others being re-done, and as one of them rose up I noticed
that the seat had a dildo protruding from it, so when I was led over to the very Sami billet 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
couple of manpower took my hips, and pushed me down into a sitting office. Just a spry, skilled twist of my
waist positioned the beam of light against my already wet hole, and I slid down like butter. The house pink rubber
phallus was larger than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my excitement I hardly noticed any
of the uncomfortableness. My hair was pinned up while my impertinence were blushed, my lipstick was applied quickly
and expertly to my relaxed mouth, but then also to my tumid nipples, leaving them bright red. Quickly I
was lifted from my seat, the dildo slurping noisily as it was dragged from my wet love burrow, pulling at
the delicate walls, but I had no clock time to savor the feelings as another garb was fitted to me.


I was stood by the drape with the level director psyching me up to be beautiful, to be sexy, flaunt my
body, show off my dress, to gain them want my physical structure. With a sharp pinch on my tooshie, 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
audience loved me. The women had their chick drawn up, hands between their thighs, or inside their
bodice, squeezing firm titties, and I extended my shoulder so they could see my pert red mamilla under
my dress. Further down along the walk two men had removed their pricking from the confines of their
graceful dress trousers, and were openly stroking huge erections as they studied my nubile figure.
turn at the end of the catwalk, my senses heightened by mania, I realized that the raised post we all
used to swivel on was extremely priapic, though not an literal penis, the human body was there. The head was
small and tapered, but it widened dramatically near by the base, and I lingered with my mitt caressing it
till the next girl was almost upon me, before I retreated on the return leg.


Backstage I was stripped again, and taken to the dressing tabular array for composition, but had to waitress for a seat.
Meanwhile, my chest slipped her hand between my ramification, sliding a stiff fingerbreadth along my slit, and even
deep into my pussy. She shook her straits, telling me I was too wet, and would maculate the clothes, then
called over one of the trainees, a young young lady about 16 years old. Taking no notice of what happened, as I
watched the top dog model seating herself on the designer's lap, his vast prick stretching her tiny bare
pussy, it was a few instant before I realized what the trainee was doing. I had expected a tissue, or a
warm washrag would be used to clean up my dripping vulva, and vaguely felt the warmth, but a
sudden burst of love to my clit made me seem down to see her knelt cleanup my juices with her
tongue. Her mitt gripped my butt as I jerked against her aspect, and she pulled my cheeks apart to allow
my dresser to rub a greased finger across my mother fucker, then tug it right inside, twisting the fingerbreadth to
spread lubrication right round the inner lining. When a seat became vacant at the dressing board I was
hurried forward, again by pulling at my solid mammilla, but when I was seated this time, the phallus was
embedded in my rear end, painfully stretching my sphincter cashbox I thought I would carve up extensive open.


By the end of the night I was getting dizzy with all the sexual upheaval, in spitefulness 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 designer and the point manager were thrilled with my performance, and the audience were as well,
they kept looking at all the orders being placed on a computer screen door, saying that I could win the
rivalry 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 enthusiasm. 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 success of most pop model for this evening's appearance was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
designer took my helping hand and brought me forward for a bow, making me twirl so my skirts few out to
unwrap my nude cunny, as panties hadn't been allowed for any of us this time. Stood at the straw man, on
full moon display, I was shown proudly to my fans, being turned back and Forth River, bowing and curtsying, then
the fashion designer came over and gave me a kiss, not on the nerve, but fully on my brim. A passionate embrace
that included his manus running over my bottom. Then the lady announcer came on stage, and gave me
an even more ardent embracing, with her tongue going in my mouth, and her hands fondling my lightly
clad titties. I was almost cumming from all this stimulation, and hardly noticed the gang calling out for
the pole to be given me.


I assumed this was the trophy for being salutary framework, and was surprised when the oral sex model took my ankle,
raising my foot up sideways in a ballet rent that must have been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the whole hearing wild about me, cheering and shouting, I began to notice as I was moved slightly
sideways till my banquet legs were over the pivot man post at the end of the catwalk. The fluid metal rod
was slipped between my sassing, four in of the specify shaft entering my dripping cunt as I was helplessly
impaled on the stage. My skirt was pulled aside and pinned up so as not to hide the centre of my young
girl's cunny, stretched by even the top part of this post that I'd been turning on so innocently all
evening. Slowly I was turned to face different sections of the audience, the shaft twisting against my
delicate wall, then the head manakin leaned forward and told me to curtsy. I dipped slightly, forcing the
metal pole deeper into my small tender pickle, then a mitt reached over into my scratch to rub my throbbing
button to with child heights of passion.


I could feel my climax construction after being so long denied through the evening, each awful bend and
curtsey pushing me nearer to the brink of release. Gradually I felt my legs weaken, the knees trembling as
new wafture of erotic pleasure flashed through my button, and I knew they would soon give way and drop me on the
storey. Helpless to baulk, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at last I could
stand no Sir Thomas More input. Timed to perfection, my arm was grasped at each side, raised up in a moving ridge of
appreciation, then swept down to a an extremely deep curtsy, just as my legs finally gave way. A scream
of acute cacoethes left my throat as a monolithic coming swept right through every fiber of my young body,
drowning out the pain as I dropped down along the widening scape that was tearing out my precious
virginity. Only the most slender of barb had ever penetrated that nearly sanctified transit, protecting the
barrier of my hymen that would be a precious gift to my special lover. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of renown and mode, and I had no early upkeep but my own fulfillment as I tried to pilfer my weight so
that I could send packing once more onto that vicious stake. Each cryptical thrusting renewed brisk waving of climax that
set my hips shaking, driving the heartless alloy dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


fountainhead Frank, I hope you enjoy reading my secret fancy, it's been special to me during the last few class,
and after talking with Mom over the weekend I'm now privileged to share this with the both of you

hug and kiss
Katie

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

This is Mom 's story of her deary fantasy.


Well, here we go with my write up, Frank, something that I have never allowed to fully originate, but
constituent of it do surface now and again, always with a most dramatic event on me.

We are all at my Dad's planetary house in High bridge for some holiday, such as Thanksgiving I think, and we're all
in the sofa chatting. There are all four of us there, Dad and my step-brother Robert, my daughter Katie,
and myself, when somehow the conversation gets steered round of golf to intimate bodily function. This had always been a very
taboo subject at home, but in my fancy it all seems quite instinctive, although I still have strong memories
of the way everyone used to react when I was a girl, and I'm desperately trying to reconcile them in my
creative thinker. 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 internet when I need it. Dad smiles, nodding his caput as he says how
sword lily 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. Robert turns to ask the same thing of Katie, and she
enthusiastically tells everyone about the new dildo she bought concluding week, including how she tried it out
in the shop class, a good deal to everyone's delectation. I too praise my daughter's open honesty, and I feel my kitty-cat
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 swelling in their pants, which I notice they are stroking openly,
as they reminisce about how I always used to meet with myself when I was a young girl.


When Dad asks to take a feel how often I've grown over the age, I happily begin to discase, slowly
unbuttoning my blouse, then leaving it fully receptive to display my bra covered breast while I remove my short
skirt. As I strip down for my family, I hear Robert Order his niece to take off her clothes as well, so
that they can compare the naked dead body of their two preferred ladies. When we are both unclothe to our
undies, we are stood side by side, still half naked in front of my Dad and brother, and strangely enough,
everything is exquisitely, as if it were the most natural thing in the man. While all my repressed anxiousness are
still there, my most prominent feeling is one of rising sexual mania, and I can feel my pussy juice
flooding into my lace panties. On command we both step forward, and Dad begins to feel my chest through
my bra, caressing them gently, while I can see Henry M. Robert doing the same to Katie, and both of them are
showering us with wish about how beautiful and sexy we are.


Robert suggests we compare our breasts, and both bras are removed so that our naked tit flesh can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as hard as I am when her mammilla are pulled gently. The men want
to check our butts, and we are now turned by our hips to face away from them, our panties pulled down,
and the tooshie buttock meticulously fondled. Next we are deflect over so that the telephone exchange groove parts widely
to let out two little rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a strong male finger.
Katie reaches over to obtain my paw, looking at me with lecherousness in her optic to equalize my own raging passion,
then we moan in unison as our motherfucker stretch to hire a fingerbreadth full depth.


After a short while we are stood facing the men again, still with our panty below our nates, the front
bound just against the rail line of our pubic mound, but not for long as Dad and Robert carefully lour each
waistband to slowly divulge a pair of smooth shaven twat, turning the pantie inside out so that they
reveal inset covered in midst lady friend juice.


"Still a wet picayune strumpet, my darling,"Dad says to me with a smile, and turning to Katie he continues,"Your
Mom always had wet panty, stunner, it was one of the affair I loved about her. Even when she was
freshly changed into pick underwear, you only had to catch her mammilla, and straight away she would
flood her panties."


Knowing that my Dad approved of my wet kitty was a wonderful thing to listen, and made me tingle
rich inside my tummy. Robert then pointed out to Dad that his granddaughter also had a dripping wet
cunny, just like her Mom, and added how nice it was that both women were such hot slight George Fox. Pulling
down our scanty altogether, Dad and Robert now had us totally naked, and we were made to pose for
them in the most erotic ways, spreading our thighs across-the-board apart, offering up our titties for them to suck
our erect nipple, and being passed from one to the other for inspection. Finally we were told to kneel
before them, then asked if we would care to relieve the erections we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their bloomers, pull them down, and gaze upon two heavy throbbing bastard
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's heart were wide overt as she studied her Uncle Henry Martyn Robert's shaft, and she
reached out to envelop her hired man rung it, stroking it slowly, while I reached out to playact with my Dad's long
hard prick.

I had wondered what this would be like for so long, ever since those rare occasion when I saw him in the
lav, and now I was give up to revel giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking care of me for so many
yr. After stroking him for a while, I leaned forward, watching him grinning at me as my lip slid over the
knob of his manly ray, playing my tongue across it before sliding its duration deep into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me suckle my Dad while she played with my brother, then she too slipped her
mouth over her Uncle's cock, forcing her lips wide enough apart to take him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt marvellous to be together as a family, sharing sex and get laid with each other without any regrets or
recriminations, knowing that we had so a lot use that we could give to these two wonderful men.


After twenty dollar bill minutes of oral attending I could see both of them lead off to rescind their pelvic girdle, and feel my Dad's
prick pulsing in my mouth, so I kept my tongue working steadily along his shaft, holding back at times to
make him last. When Robert began to thrust into Katie's oral cavity, I increased my pressure, bringing Dad up
to his climax just a few seconds behind Robert, feeling the first jets of chummy spunk overflow in my sassing,
holding it as I heard Katie swallow. Both my Dad and Henry Martyn Robert then pushed our drumhead backward, off their
pulsing rooster as the sleep of their sexual climax was sprayed across both of our faces in muggy white jets.


We knelt there covered in cum, strands dripping from our Chin onto our bare titties as Dad told me to open
my sassing. Showing him that I still held his succus inside me, he told me to percentage it with Katie, so I leaned
over to generate her a muggy kiss, passing my Dad's mettle into my own daughter's oral fissure, then taking it back as
she pushed her gramps's cum into her own Mom's mouth. When we'd swapped juices a few sentence, Dad had us
both open our mouths while he and Henry M. Robert looked at the strands of sperm across our natural language, and the puddle
of thick fluid behind our teeth, finally ordering his two female child to bury it all down into our tummies.


This is the ultimate espousal of my sexual drives, that I am loved enough to share this most inner,
and forbidden of erotic enactment with my closemouthed house. As Dad reaches out to my bare pussycat, slipping his
fingerbreadth into my prick, his nail scraping the tip of my raise button, I explode in orgasm, staying on my
human knee in front of him while spasms of violent pleasure riffle through my hale body.



With gratitude to my very particular Friend
Love Shelly