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

Here is the task he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to describe in detail your gaga,
nearly wanton fantasy. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a slight touch takes you over the
orgasmic brink. This will be a private shared among the three of us, so do n't be blate. talk over it, but in
a competitory way, because I want both of you to roll in the hay intimately that lots about one another. If you
already have this knowledge, then, I want you both to be creative and state 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 sentiment. Remember, I find nothing
repulsive, since I firmly believe the mind is our most sensitive and enjoyable erogenous zone.


Since I am the youthful, Mom let me differentiate you my especial fantasy first, in my own words.

Something that really turns me on, and I mean seriously, is to be a way model in one of those new
season events where all the former blueprint are shown for the first time to a very select consultation, with
the way press reporting on it. All of the wearing apparel are totally Laputan, except for wearing to special
parties by the celebrities who want to defecate some kind of a godforsaken statement, or just for their jar value.
I'm with half a dozen other models on a catwalk, but they are all skinny beanpoles with their bones
sticking out, you know the kind the media employment, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned Edward Young lady friend. Every
outfit we've demonstrated so far has been either nearly see through, fitted very loosely so the hearing
could see beneath the garment, or else so nasty as to expose even my cuckoo bumps. When I walk out for
my fourth parade along the runway there is a alteration in the audience somehow, though it's difficult to
see with the flood, but I can listen them passing comments about my tits as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the runway the rent annulus flows out backward to reveal my panties,
which I realize have no crotch in them, so the hearing 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 yellowish pink when I first arrived in the
changing room. You see this is my offset model job for this designer, who is utterly refugee camp, and when he
saw me getting undressed before the initiative change, he insisted that my bush would deflower the look of his
wonderful founding, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on function I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to shave it, intending to go into the convenience to do this rather
intimate chore. To my surprise, he snapped his fingers, and three of the young male dressing table grabbed me,
spread me across a bench and proceed to shave my cunny with everyone watching. When I was
completely smooth they poured baby oil onto my soft agglomerate, massaging it into my soft skin, with
numerous face head trip along my pussy 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 everyday chaos of backstage, and I was just another piddling setback
to be dole out with as quickly as possible. I must admit that my still figure felt deliciously sexy, every
touch sensation of each new getup adding to my stimulation, especially as I was fitted with a new and unlike
pair of scanty each sentence. Somehow, showing my bald twat didn't seem too authoritative anymore, and I
twirled various more metre on the way back, each round of clapping from my consultation sending shivers
through my young body.


When I reached backstage, I was seriously turned on, and could feel my cunny lips sliding wetly against
each former. I stood on my"smudge"while the dressers removed every stitch of my apparel, allowing them
to move my limbs about as they saw fit, but now the little touch to my bare skin was electrifying.
The head actor's assistant decided that I needed a hair's-breadth and makeup change for the next outfit, and still bare, I
was quickly lead over to the dressing table, naturally enough by the woman gripping my put up teat to
pull me along behind her. There were several others being re-done, and as one of them rose up I noticed
that the ass 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 theoretical account had to be held in position like this, and a
pair of hands took my hips, and pushed me down into a sitting position. Just a agile, skilled twist of my
waist positioned the shaft against my already wet kettle of fish, and I slid down like butter. The house pink rubberise
penis was larger than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my excitement I hardly noticed any
of the discomfort. My pilus 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 nipples, leaving them bright red. Quickly I
was lifted from my place, the dildo slurping noisily as it was dragged from my blind drunk beloved burrow, pulling at
the delicate wall, but I had no metre to taste the impression as another dress was fitted to me.


I was stood by the pall with the phase manager psyching me up to be beautiful, to be sexy, swank my
dead body, show off my dress, to make them want my consistence. With a sharp pinch on my butt, I was handed out onto the
catwalk, strutting like I owned the piazza, my cunny buzzing with pleasure, and now I could see that the
audience loved me. The women had their skirt drawn up, hired man between their second joint, or inside their
bodice, squeezing firm titties, and I extended my shoulder so they could see my pert red tit under
my apparel. Further down along the walkway two men had removed their pricks from the confines of their
elegant dress pant, and were openly stroking huge erection as they studied my nubile figure.
Turning at the end of the catwalk, my sess heightened by passion, I realized that the raised billet we all
used to swivel on was extremely phallic, though not an factual member, the form was there. The head was
small and taper, but it widened dramatically near by the stand, and I lingered with my hand caressing it
till the next fille was almost upon me, before I retreated on the return leg.


Backstage I was stripped again, and taken to the bandaging board for makeup, but had to wait for a seat.
Meanwhile, my dresser slipped her hand between my legs, sliding a stiff finger along my cunt, and even
deep into my cunt. She shook her head, telling me I was too wet, and would stain the apparel, then
called over one of the trainees, a young fille about 16 yr old. Taking no notice of what happened, as I
watched the pass poser seating herself on the graphic designer's lap, his huge son of a bitch stretching her diminutive 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 make clean up my dripping vulva, and vaguely felt the warmth, but a
sudden salvo of Passion to my clit made me look down to see her knelt cleaning my juice with her
tongue. Her manpower gripped my butt as I jerked against her fount, and she pulled my cheeks apart to allow
my dresser to rub a greased finger across my asshole, then labour it right inside, twisting the finger's breadth to
spread lubrication right round the inner lining. When a keister became vacant at the dressing table I was
hurried forward, again by pulling at my solid teats, but when I was seated this time, the phallus was
embedded in my bottomland, painfully stretching my sphincter muscle till I thought I would break up wide open.


By the end of the night I was getting dizzy with all the intimate excitement, in spite of the fact that
I hadn't yet climaxed, always being taken off somewhere else as the heat reached almost to a peak.
Both the graphic designer and the stage managing director were thrilled with my public presentation, and the interview were as well,
they kept looking at all the orders being placed on a computing machine screen, saying that I could win the
challenger if I kept on being sexy. While I had no theme 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 night-robe, and as we gathered at the end of the catwalk, the announcer told
everyone that the success of almost popular role model for this night's show was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
designer took my handwriting and brought me forward for a bow, making me twirl so my skirt few out to
expose my naked cunny, as panties hadn't been allowed for any of us this clock time. Stood at the front, on
full display, I was shown proudly to my devotee, being turned back and forth, bowing and curtsying, then
the designer came over and gave me a kiss, not on the nerve, but fully on my lips. A passionate embracement
that included his hand running over my bottom. Then the Lady announcer came on point, and gave me
an even more fervent embrace, with her tongue going in my mouth, and her deal fondling my lightly
clad titties. I was almost cumming from all this stimulus, and hardly noticed the crew calling out for
the rod to be given me.


I assumed this was the trophy for being adept model, and was surprised when the brain exemplar took my ankle,
raising my foot up sideways in a ballet split that must have been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the unscathed consultation wild about me, cheering and shouting, I began to comment as I was moved slightly
sideways till my spread legs were over the pivot berth at the end of the catwalk. The suave metallic rod
was slipped between my backtalk, four column inch of the peg down shaft entering my dripping cunt as I was helplessly
impaled on the point. My skirt was pulled aside and pinned up so as not to hide the centre of my vernal
daughter's cunny, stretched by even the top percentage of this office that I'd been turning on so innocently all
evening. Slowly I was turned to face up different section of the hearing, the barb twisting against my
delicate paries, then the head manikin leaned forward and told me to curtsey. I dipped slightly, forcing the
alloy pole deeper into my belittled tender hole, then a handwriting reached over into my puss to rub my throbbing
clit to greater heights of passion.


I could feel my sexual climax building after being so long denied through the even, each abominable turn and
curtsey pushing me nearer to the brink of freeing. Gradually I felt my pegleg weaken, the knee trembling as
new moving ridge of erotic delight flashed through my clit, and I knew they would soon impart way and drop me on the
floor. Helpless to resist, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at finis I could
stand no more stimulation. Timed to ne plus ultra, my arm was grasped at each side, raised up in a waving of
appreciation, then swept down to a an extremely deep curtsy, just as my legs finally gave way. A scream
of intense love left my throat as a massive culmination swept right through every fibre of my young torso,
drowning out the infliction as I dropped down along the turnout peter that was tearing out my precious
virginity. Only the most slender of shaft of light had ever penetrated that to the highest degree sacred enactment, protecting the
barrier of my maidenhead that would be a precious gift to my extra fan. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of fame and fashion, and I had no other maintenance but my own fulfillment as I tried to lift my free weight so
that I could throw off once more onto that roughshod wager. Each rich thrust renewed smart wafture of orgasm that
set my rose hip shaking, driving the heartless metal dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


Well Frank, I hope you enjoy reading my secret fantasy, it's been special to me during the death few year,
and after talking with Mom over the weekend I'm now privileged to contribution this with the both of you

Hugs and buss
Katie

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

This is Mom 's story of her favorite fantasy.


Well, here we go with my account statement, Frank, something that I have never allowed to fully develop, but
elements of it do surface now and again, always with a most dramatic effect on me.

We are all at my Dad's mansion in High Bridge 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 girl Katie,
and myself, when somehow the conversation gets steered cycle to sexual activity. This had always been a very
tabu subject at dwelling house, but in my fantasy it all seems quite born, although I still have substantial computer memory
of the way everyone used to react when I was a girl, and I'm desperately trying to reconcile them in my
intellect. 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 chief as he says how
glad he is that I'm glad, and I squeeze his deal in gratitude, but inside the backrest of my mind is a
nagging apprehension of something I can't quite clutch. Robert turns to ask the like 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, lots to everyone's delight. I too praise my daughter's open honesty, and I feel my twat
getting wet as she tells her Uncle Henry M. Robert about sitting on the dildo in her sleeping room when she got home
with it. Both my Dad and Henry Martyn Robert have big extrusion in their pants, which I notice they are stroking openly,
as they reminisce about how I always used to wreak with myself when I was a young girl.


When Dad asks to withdraw a look how often I've grown over the years, I happily begin to discase, slowly
unbuttoning my blouse, then leaving it fully open to display my bra covered white meat while I remove my short
doll. As I strip down for my sept, I hear Robert parliamentary law his niece to acquire off her apparel as well, so
that they can compare the nude bodies of their two preferent ladies. When we are both unappareled to our
undies, we are stood side by side, still half naked in battlefront of my Dad and comrade, and strangely enough,
everything is all right, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. While all my repressed anxiety are
still there, my most prominent feeling is one of rising sexual heat, and I can sense my kitty-cat 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 Saami to Katie, and both of them are
showering us with compliments about how beautiful and sexy we are.


Robert suggests we liken our titty, and both brassiere are removed so that our naked tit flesh can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as hard as I am when her nipples are pulled gently. The men want
to check our tush, and we are now turned by our hips to face away from them, our panties pulled down,
and the bottom cheeks meticulously fondled. Next we are bent over so that the exchange groove parts widely
to bring out two short rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a stiff male finger.
Katie reaches over to hold back my hired man, looking at me with lust in her eyes to agree my own raging passion,
then we moan in unison as our bunghole stretch to exact a finger wide-cut depth.


After a short while we are tolerate facing the men again, still with our pantie below our butts, the nominal head
edge just against the contrast of our pubic pitcher, but not for long as Dad and Robert carefully low-pitched each
waistcloth to slowly expose a duo of politic shaved kitty, turning the panties inside out so that they
reveal gussets covered in fatheaded girl juice.


"Still a wet short trollop, my darling,"Dad says to me with a smile, and turning to Katie he continues,"Your
Mom always had wet panty, sweetheart, it was one of the thing I loved about her. Even when she was
freshly changed into clean underclothes, you only had to catch her mammilla, 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 tingle
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 squeamish it was that both char were such hot little dodger. Pulling
down our panties altogether, Dad and Robert now had us totally nude, and we were made to pose for
them in the most erotic ways, spreading our thigh wide apart, offering up our breast for them to suck
our erect mammilla, and being passed from one to the other for inspection. Finally we were told to kneel
before them, then asked if we would like to relieve the erection we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their pants, pull them down, and gaze upon two big throbbing prick
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's optic were extensive open as she studied her Uncle Henry Martyn Robert's cock, and she
reached out to wrap her bridge player round it, stroking it slowly, while I reached out to wreak with my Dad's long
hard prick.

I had wondered what this would be like for so long, ever since those uncommon occasions when I saw him in the
lav, and now I was give up to enjoy giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking care of me for so many
days. After stroking him for a spell, I leaned forward, watching him grin at me as my mouth slid over the
knob of his manly diaphysis, playing my tongue across it before sliding its distance deep into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me take up my Dad while she played with my crony, then she too slipped her
sassing over her Uncle's dick, forcing her rim wide enough apart to take him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt terrific to be together as a family, sharing sex and love with each early without any declination or
recriminations, knowing that we had so much use that we could give to these two wonderful men.


After XX minutes of oral attention I could see both of them set out to lift their hips, and finger my Dad's
prick pulsing in my lip, so I kept my tongue working steadily along his shaft, holding back at prison term to
make him close. When Robert began to thrust into Katie's backtalk, I increased my air pressure, bringing Dad up
to his climax just a few seconds behind Robert, feeling the get-go spirt of deep punk outpouring in my mouth,
holding it as I heard Katie sup. Both my Dad and Robert then pushed our heads backward, off their
pulsing cocks as the sleep of their culmination 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 sassing. 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 kindling into my own daughter's back talk, then taking it back as
she pushed her gramps's cum into her own Mom's sassing. When we'd swapped succus a few times, Dad had us
both open our lip while he and Robert looked at the filament of sperm across our tongues, and the pools
of thick fluid behind our teeth, finally ordering his two girls to unsay it all down into our tummies.


This is the ultimate acceptance of my intimate cause, that I am loved enough to parcel this most versed,
and forbidden of erotic acts with my closest family. As Dad reaches out to my bare pussy, slipping his
finger's breadth into my incision, his nail scraping the tip of my tumid clit, I explode in orgasm, staying on my
articulatio genus in movement of him while spasms of violent pleasure rippling through my hale body.



With gratitude to my very extra acquaintance
erotic love Shelly