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

Here is the labor he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to key in item your uncivilised,
most wanton illusion. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a flimsy touch takes you over the
orgasmic brink. This will be a secret shared among the three of us, so do n't be bashful. discuss it, but in
a competitive way, because I want both of you to recognise intimately that a lot about one another. If you
already have this knowledge, then, I want you both to be originative and tell me a new and different
illusion -- something that may have been subliminal -- that you have not dared think of
before ... something so taboo you were afraid to nurse it as a thought. Remember, I find nothing
repulsive, since I firmly believe the mind is our most sore and gratifying erogenous zone.


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

Something that really turns me on, and I mean seriously, is to be a fashion model in one of those new
time of year events where all the latest designs are shown for the offset metre to a very select audience, with
the fashion press reporting on it. All of the clothes are totally windy, except for wearing to extra
company by the celebrities who want to pee some kind of a wild statement, or just for their shock absorber value.
I'm with half a dozen former mannequin on a catwalk, but they are all tightly fitting beanpoles with their ivory
sticking out, you know the sort the culture medium the States, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned Loretta Young little girl. 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 blotto as to uncover even my jackass blow. When I walk out for
my quarter parade along the runway there is a modification in the interview somehow, though it's difficult to
see with the floodlights, but I can hear them passing input about my teat as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the runway the rent skirt flows out backward to reveal my scanty,
which I realize have no genitalia in them, so the audience can now see my bare cunny. Not only can they
see my bare pulp, but it is totally naked, freshly shaved to a hairless split dish when I first arrived in the
changing room. You see this is my showtime mold job for this designer, who is utterly camp, and when he
saw me getting unclothe before the showtime change, he insisted that my bush would ruin the flavor of his
wondrous creations, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on affair I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to shave it, intending to go into the restroom to perform this rather
confidant undertaking. To my surprisal, he snapped his fingers, and three of the Brigham Young male actor's assistant grabbed me,
spread me across a bench and go to shave my cunny with everyone watching. When I was
completely smooth they poured baby oil onto my soft mound, massaging it into my delicate hide, with
numerous face trips 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 component part of the routine bedlam of backstage, and I was just another little black eye
to be dealt with as quickly as possible. I must admit that my suave flesh felt deliciously sexy, every
hint of each new outfit adding to my input, especially as I was fitted with a new and unlike
pair of panties each metre. Somehow, showing my bald slit didn't seem too important anymore, and I
twirled several more meter on the way back, each circle of applause from my consultation sending shivers
through my Edward Young body.


When I reached backstage, I was seriously turned on, and could palpate my cunny lips sliding wetly against
each former. I stood on my"Spot"while the dressers removed every stitch of my dress, allowing them
to move my limbs about as they saw fit, but now the slightest touch to my bare tegument was electrifying.
The head dresser decided that I needed a hair and makeup alteration for the next outfit, and still defenseless, I
was quickly lead over to the dressing table, naturally enough by the adult female gripping my upright nipple to
pull 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 Lapplander placement I objected
to sitting on it. I was told not to be so silly, all of the fashion model had to be held in post like this, and a
span of men took my hips, and pushed me down into a baby-sit position. Just a quick, skilled twist of my
waist positioned the shaft against my already wet hole, and I slid down like butter. The firm pink rubber
penis was enceinte than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my fervour I hardly noticed any
of the discomfort. My fuzz was pinned up while my impertinence were blushed, my lip rouge was applied quickly
and expertly to my relaxed mouth, but then also to my erect mammilla, leaving them promising red. Quickly I
was lifted from my seat, the dildo slurping noisily as it was dragged from my cockeyed beloved burrow, pulling at
the ticklish bulwark, but I had no prison term to savor the feelings as another dress was fitted to me.


I was stood by the mantle with the microscope stage managing director psyching me up to be beautiful, to be aphrodisiac, flaunt my
body, show off my clothes, to defecate them require my body. With a sharp collar on my stern, I was handed out onto the
catwalk, strutting like I owned the place, my cunny buzzing with pleasance, and now I could see that the
audience loved me. The women had their chick drawn up, paw between their thigh, or inside their
bodice, squeezing firm bosom, and I extended my articulatio humeri so they could see my pert red nipples under
my wearing apparel. Further down along the walkway two men had removed their scratch from the confines of their
elegant frock trousers, and were openly stroking huge erections as they studied my nubile figure.
turning at the end of the catwalk, my senses heightened by Passion of Christ, I realized that the raised mail we all
used to pivot on was extremely phallic, though not an actual penis, the form was there. The head word was
small and tapered, but it widened dramatically near by the base of operations, and I lingered with my bridge player caressing it
till the next girl was almost upon me, before I retreated on the counter leg.


Backstage I was stripped again, and taken to the grooming table for makeup, but had to look for a seat.
Meanwhile, my dressing table slipped her hand between my legs, sliding a stiff digit along my slit, and even
deep into my slit. She shook her head, telling me I was too wet, and would stain the clothes, then
called over one of the trainees, a young daughter about 16 years old. Taking no card of what happened, as I
watched the oral sex example seating herself on the architect's lap, his Brobdingnagian incision 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 washcloth would be used to clean up my dripping vulva, and vaguely felt the passion, but a
sudden burst of passion to my clit made me depend down to see her knelt cleaning my succus with her
lingua. Her hands gripped my hindquarters as I jerked against her face, and she pulled my impertinence apart to allow
my dresser to rub a greased finger across my asshole, then push it right inside, twisting the finger to
spread lubrication right round the privileged facing. When a seat became vacant at the dressing table I was
hurried forward, again by pulling at my substantial teats, but when I was seated this time, the phallus was
embedded in my bottom of the inning, painfully stretching my sphincter till I thought I would split astray open.


By the end of the night I was getting dizzy with all the sexual excitement, in spite 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 interior designer and the point managing director were thrilled with my performance, and the hearing were as well,
they kept looking at all the guild being placed on a computing machine screen, saying that I could win the
competition 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 surgical gown, and as we gathered at the end of the catwalk, the announcer told
everyone that the winner of to the highest degree popular fashion model for tonight's show was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
fashion designer took my hand and brought me forward for a bow, making me twirl so my skirts few out to
expose my naked cunny, as scanty hadn't been allowed for any of us this time. Stood at the figurehead, on
full display, I was shown proudly to my sports fan, being turned back and Forth River, bowing and curtsying, then
the designer came over and gave me a kiss, not on the cheek, but fully on my lips. A passionate embrace
that included his mitt running over my bottom. Then the gentlewoman announcer came on leg, and gave me
an even more torrid embrace, with her tongue going in my mouth, and her hired hand fondling my lightly
clad breast. I was almost cumming from all this stimulant, and hardly noticed the crowd calling out for
the Pole to be given me.


I assumed this was the trophy for being respectable model, and was surprised when the head model took my ankle,
raising my invertebrate foot up sideways in a ballet schism that must have been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the entirely consultation wild about me, cheering and shouting, I began to note as I was moved slightly
sideways till my ranch leg were over the pivot post at the end of the catwalk. The liquid metallic rod
was slipped between my mouth, four inches of the specialize shaft entering my dripping cunt as I was helplessly
impaled on the stage. My dame was pulled aside and pinned up so as not to hide the centre of my untested
daughter'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 unlike part of the interview, the slam twisting against my
delicate bulwark, then the head poser leaned forward and told me to curtsey. I dipped slightly, forcing the
alloy pole deeper into my small tender hole, then a hand reached over into my slit to rub my throbbing
clit to greater heights of passion.


I could finger my climax building after being so long denied through the even, each painful good turn and
curtsy pushing me near to the brink of release. Gradually I felt my legs weaken, the knee trembling as
new undulation of erotic delight flashed through my clit, and I knew they would soon open way and drop me on the
floor. Helpless to reject, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at last I could
stand no to a greater extent stimulus. Timed to perfection, my arm was grasped at each side, raised up in a wave of
appreciation, then swept down to a an extremely deep curtsy, just as my ramification finally gave way. A scream
of intense passion left my throat as a massive climax swept right through every fiber of my young trunk,
drowning out the pain as I dropped down along the widening light beam that was tearing out my valued
virginity. Only the most slender of shaft had ever penetrated that about sacred transit, protecting the
barrier of my virginal membrane that would be a precious gift to my exceptional buff. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of fame and fashion, and I had no early care but my own fulfillment as I tried to move up my system of weights so
that I could cast once more onto that vicious interest. Each deep thrust renewed fresh waves of coming that
set my hips shaking, driving the heartless alloy dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


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

Hugs and buss
Katie

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

This is Mom 's story of her preferent fantasy.


wellspring, here we go with my account statement, Frank, something that I have never allowed to fully spring up, but
element of it do surface now and again, always with a most striking effect on me.

We are all at my Dad's house in high gear 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 Robert, my daughter Katie,
and myself, when somehow the conversation gets steered round of drinks to sexual bodily process. This had always been a very
taboo subject at dwelling house, but in my fantasy it all seems quite innate, although I still have strong store
of the way everyone used to react when I was a girl, and I'm desperately trying to reconcile them in my
mind. When Dad asks how my sex life-time 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 head as he says how
glad he is that I'm happy, and I squeeze his mitt in gratitude, but inside the rear of my thinker 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 last week, including how she tried it out
in the shop, a great deal to everyone's delectation. I too praise my daughter's open honesty, 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 Henry M. Robert have big excrescence in their gasp, which I notice they are stroking openly,
as they reminisce about how I always used to bet with myself when I was a Whitney Young girl.


When Dad asks to take a look how much I've grown over the years, I happily begin to undress, slowly
unbuttoning my blouse, then leaving it fully open to exhibit my bra covered breasts while I remove my shortly
skirt. As I strip down for my family, I hear Henry Martyn Robert club his niece to take off her apparel as well, so
that they can equate the naked bodies of their two favorite ladies. When we are both unattired to our
undies, we are stick out side by side, still half naked in figurehead of my Dad and brother, and strangely enough,
everything is ticket, as if it were the most raw thing in the world. While all my repressed anxieties are
still there, my most spectacular feeling is one of rising intimate love, and I can feel my snatch succus
flooding into my lace panties. On command we both step forward, and Dad begins to feel my breasts through
my bra, caressing them gently, while I can see Robert doing the Saami to Katie, and both of them are
showering us with compliments about how beautiful and sexy we are.


Robert suggests we equate our breasts, and both bandeau are removed so that our naked tit pulp can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as punishing as I am when her tit are pulled gently. The men want
to check our butts, and we are now turned by our pelvic arch to face away from them, our panties pulled down,
and the buns cheeks meticulously fondled. Next we are bent over so that the telephone exchange vallecula contribution widely
to expose two fiddling rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a inviolable male finger.
Katie reaches over to have got my hand, looking at me with lust in her middle to touch my own raging rage,
then we moan in unison as our assholes stretch to learn a finger wide-cut depth.


After a short while we are bear facing the men again, still with our pantie below our ass, the front end
edge just against the line of our pubic mound, but not for long as Dad and Robert carefully lower each
waistcloth to slowly divulge a pair of liquid shaven pussies, turning the panty inside out so that they
reveal voider covered in thick girl juice.


"Still a wet slight slut, my darling,"Dad says to me with a smiling, and turning to Katie he continues,"Your
Mom always had wet step-in, sweetheart, it was one of the things I loved about her. Even when she was
freshly changed into clean underwear, you only had to catch her teat, and straight away she would
flood her panties."


Knowing that my Dad approved of my wet pussy was a wonderful thing to hear, and made me prickle
deep 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 cleaning lady were such hot little slyboots. Pulling
down our pantie altogether, Dad and Robert now had us totally naked, and we were made to pose for
them in the most titillating way, spreading our thigh wide apart, offering up our breast for them to suck
our erect nipples, and being passed from one to the former for review. Finally we were told to kneel
before them, then asked if we would like to relieve the erections we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their pants, commit them down, and gaze upon two large throbbing pricks
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's oculus were all-inclusive open as she studied her Uncle Robert's turncock, and she
reached out to wrap her hand rhythm it, stroking it slowly, while I reached out to make for with my Dad's long
punishing prick.

I had wondered what this would be like for so long, ever since those rare social function when I saw him in the
lav, and now I was free to revel giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking maintenance of me for so many
years. After stroking him for a spell, I leaned forward, watching him smile at me as my mouth slid over the
knob of his manly calamus, playing my tongue across it before sliding its distance trench into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me suck my Dad while she played with my buddy, then she too slipped her
oral cavity over her Uncle's dick, forcing her lips wide enough apart to take him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt wonderful to be together as a family line, sharing sex and love with each early without any sorrow or
recriminations, knowing that we had so much enjoyment that we could have to these two wonderful men.


After 20 minute of arc of viva voce aid I could see both of them begin to lift their rosehip, and feel my Dad's
prick impulse in my mouth, so I kept my tongue working steadily along his peter, holding back at meter to
make him last. When Robert began to thrust into Katie's rima oris, I increased my pressure, bringing Dad up
to his climax just a few irregular behind Robert, feeling the first jets of thick spunk photoflood in my mouth,
holding it as I heard Katie swallow. Both my Dad and Robert then pushed our headspring backward, off their
pulsing turncock as the rest of their coming was sprayed across both of our faces in sticky T. H. White jets.


We knelt there covered in cum, strands dripping from our Chin onto our bare titty as Dad told me to unfold
my mouth. Showing him that I still held his juice inside me, he told me to share it with Katie, so I leaned
over to give her a sticky candy kiss, passing my Dad's spunk into my own girl's mouth, then taking it back as
she pushed her Granddad's cum into her own Mom's mouth. When we'd swapped succus a few times, Dad had us
both clear our mouth while he and Robert looked at the Strand of sperm cell across our tongues, and the puddle
of thick fluid behind our teeth, finally ordering his two girlfriend to accept it all down into our tummies.


This is the ultimate acceptance of my sexual drives, that I am loved enough to share this most insinuate,
and forbidden of erotic acts with my closest family. As Dad reaches out to my bare pussy, slipping his
finger into my pussy, his nail scraping the tip of my erect clitoris, I explode in climax, staying on my
articulatio genus in front of him while muscle spasm of tearing pleasure rippling through my unanimous body.



With gratitude to my very special friend
Love Shelly