Hi, I 'm Katie, and this is written at the especial petition of my Mom 's very respectable friend Frank.

Here is the task he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to identify in detail your wildest,
most trifle fantasy. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a flimsy signature takes you over the
orgasmic brink. This will be a confidential shared among the three of us, so do n't be blate. Discuss it, but in
a private-enterprise way, because I want both of you to lie with intimately that much about one another. If you
already have this noesis, then, I want you both to be creative and differentiate 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 entertain it as a thought. Remember, I find nothing
repulsive, since I firmly believe the mind is our most sore and pleasurable 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 fashion good example in one of those new
season events where all the latest designs are shown for the kickoff prison term to a very take consultation, with
the way closet reporting on it. All of the wearing apparel are totally windy, except for wearing to special
company by the celebrity who want to relieve oneself some sort of a fantastic statement, or just for their shock value.
I'm with half a XII other role model on a catwalk, but they are all tightfitting beanpoles with their clappers
sticking out, you know the sort the media uses, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned young fille. 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 blind drunk as to reveal even my goose bumps. When I walk out for
my 4th parade along the runway there is a modification in the audience somehow, though it's difficult to
see with the flood, but I can hear them passing comments about my titmouse as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the runway the split skirt flows out backward to uncover my panties,
which I realize have no genital organ in them, so the interview can now see my bare cunny. Not only can they
see my bare figure, but it is totally denudate, freshly shaved to a hairless split peach when I first arrived in the
changing elbow 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 outset change, he insisted that my bush would deflower the face of his
wonderful creations, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on affair I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to trim it, intending to go into the convenience to perform this rather
confidant job. To my surprise, he snapped his finger, and three of the Edward Young male dressers grabbed me,
spread me across a bench and proceed to trim my cunny with everyone observation. When I was
completely smooth they poured baby oil onto my lenient knoll, massaging it into my delicate skin, with
legion side trips along my cunt 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 number bedlam of backstage, and I was just another small black eye
to be dealt with as quickly as possible. I must take on that my smooth flesh felt deliciously sexy, every
hint of each new outfit adding to my stimulation, especially as I was fitted with a new and unlike
pair of panties each clock time. Somehow, showing my bald slit didn't seem too of import anymore, and I
twirled several more times on the way back, each turn of applause from my audience sending shivers
through my young body.


When I reached backstage, I was seriously turned on, and could finger my cunny rim sliding wetly against
each other. I stood on my"position"while the dressers removed every stitch of my apparel, allowing them
to actuate my limbs about as they saw fit, but now the thin touch to my bare skin was electrifying.
The head toilet table decided that I needed a hair and composition change for the next outfit, and still raw, I
was quickly leash over to the salad dressing table, naturally enough by the woman gripping my upright 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 seat had a dildo protruding from it, so when I was led over to the very Lapp lieu I objected
to sitting on it. I was told not to be so silly, all of the models had to be held in status like this, and a
pair of hands took my hips, and pushed me down into a model position. Just a quick, skilled twist of my
waist positioned the shaft against my already wet golf hole, and I slid down like butter. The business firm pink rubberise
penis was heavy than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my excitement I hardly noticed any
of the discomfort. My hair was pinned up while my nerve were blushed, my lip rouge was applied quickly
and expertly to my slack mouth, but then also to my erect nipples, leaving them smart red. Quickly I
was lifted from my hind end, the dildo slurping noisily as it was dragged from my blotto love tunnel, pulling at
the delicate walls, but I had no meter to relish the tone as another dress was fitted to me.


I was stood by the curtain with the phase film director psyching me up to be beautiful, to be aphrodisiacal, flaunt my
body, show off my dress, to build them desire my body. With a acutely pinch on my prat, I was handed out onto the
catwalk, strutting like I owned the station, my cunny buzzing with pleasure, and now I could see that the
audience loved me. The womanhood had their doll drawn up, hands between their thighs, or inside their
bodice, squeezing business firm tit, and I extended my shoulder so they could see my pert red nipples under
my clothes. Further down along the walk two men had removed their pricks from the confines of their
elegant garb trousers, and were openly stroking huge erection as they studied my marriageable figure.
turn at the end of the catwalk, my senses heightened by passionateness, I realized that the raised post we all
used to pivot on was extremely phallic, though not an factual penis, the form was there. The read/write head was
low and narrowing, but it widened dramatically near by the al-Qaida, and I lingered with my deal caressing it
till the next fille was almost upon me, before I retreated on the return leg.


offstage I was stripped again, and taken to the medical dressing table for physical composition, but had to look for a seat.
Meanwhile, my chest of drawers slipped her hand between my legs, sliding a stiff finger along my prick, and even
deep into my cunt. She shook her straits, telling me I was too wet, and would maculate the clothes, then
called over one of the trainees, a young girl about 16 class old. Taking no notice of what happened, as I
watched the oral sex model seating herself on the interior decorator's lap, his Brobdingnagian tool stretching her flyspeck bare
pussy, it was a few consequence before I realized what the trainee was doing. I had expected a tissue paper, or a
warm face cloth would be used to clean up my dripping vulva, and vaguely felt the affectionateness, but a
sudden burst of rage to my clit made me expect down to see her knelt cleaning my juice with her
tongue. Her hands gripped my butt as I jerked against her face, and she pulled my cheeks apart to give up
my actor's assistant to rub a greased finger across my arse, then push it veracious inside, twisting the fingerbreadth to
spread lubrication right round the interior lining. When a seat became vacant at the dressing tabular array I was
hurried forward, again by pulling at my solid tit, but when I was seated this time, the phallus was
embedded in my bum, painfully stretching my sphincter muscle till I thought I would carve up full open.


By the end of the nighttime I was getting dizzy with all the sexual inflammation, 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 microscope stage director were thrilled with my performance, and the consultation were as well,
they kept looking at all the orders being placed on a electronic computer cover, saying that I could win the
competition if I kept on being sexy. While I had no estimation what they were talking about, being sexy was
something I could do, and went at it with even more than enthusiasm. The concluding parade had all the poser
dressed in the flimsiest of night-robe, and as we gathered at the end of the catwalk, the announcer told
everyone that the winner of about popular good example for tonight's display was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
decorator took my manus and brought me forward for a bow, making me twirl so my skirts few out to
expose my naked cunny, as panties hadn't been allowed for any of us this fourth dimension. Stood at the front, on
to the full show, 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 cheek, but fully on my sassing. A passionate embrace
that included his handwriting running over my merchant ship. Then the lady announcer came on level, and gave me
an even more fiery embrace, with her tongue going in my mouth, and her hands fondling my lightly
clad boob. I was almost cumming from all this foreplay, and hardly noticed the gang calling out for
the Pole to be given me.


I assumed this was the trophy for being serious example, and was surprised when the head mannikin took my ankle joint,
raising my foot up sideways in a ballet schism that must feature been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the whole consultation natural state about me, cheering and shouting, I began to notice as I was moved slightly
sideways till my spread legs were over the pivot military post at the end of the catwalk. The politic metal rod
was slipped between my back talk, four column inch of the narrow 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 obliterate the centre of my young
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 confront unlike sections of the consultation, the shaft twisting against my
delicate bulwark, then the caput model leaned forward and told me to curtsey. I dipped slightly, forcing the
metal Pole deeper into my small pinnace mess, then a hand reached over into my snatch to rub my throbbing
clit to not bad heights of passion.


I could feel my coming building after being so long denied through the evening, each painful turn and
curtsy pushing me nearer to the brink of release. Gradually I felt my legs weaken, the knees trembling as
new Wave of titillating delight flashed through my clit, and I knew they would soon hold way and drop me on the
floor. Helpless to defy, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at last I could
stand no more input. Timed to idol, my arm was grasped at each side, raised up in a wave of
taste, then swept down to a an extremely deep curtsy, just as my branch finally gave way. A scream
of vivid love left my throat as a monolithic orgasm swept right through every character of my young body,
drowning out the pain in the neck as I dropped down along the turnout peter that was tearing out my cute
virginity. Only the most slender of tool had ever penetrated that nigh sacred enactment, protecting the
barrier of my hymen that would be a preciously gift to my special lover. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of fame and fashion, and I had no other care but my own fulfillment as I tried to lift my weighting so
that I could sink once more onto that savage wager. Each deep thrust renewed fresh Wave of coming that
set my hips shaking, driving the heartless metal dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


Well Frank, I hope you enjoy reading my hole-and-corner fantasy, it's been special to me during the final stage few years,
and after talking with Mom over the weekend I'm now privileged to contribution this with the both of you

hug and candy kiss
Katie

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

This is Mom 's story of her favorite fantasy.


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

We are all at my Dad's house in heights bridge deck 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 to intimate activity. This had always been a very
taboo subject at base, but in my fantasy it all seems quite natural, although I still have strong memories
of the way everyone used to oppose when I was a girl, 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 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 script in gratitude, but inside the back of my mind is a
nagging apprehension 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 cobbler's last week, including how she tried it out
in the shop, practically to everyone's joy. I too praise my daughter's unfold honesty, and I feel my pussy
getting wet as she tells her Uncle Robert about sitting on the dildo in her sleeping accommodation when she got home
with it. Both my Dad and Robert have big bulges in their gasp, 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 shoot a look how much I've grown over the days, I happily begin to undress, slowly
unbuttoning my blouse, then leaving it fully capable to display my bra covered breasts while I remove my short
skirt. As I strip down for my phratry, I hear Robert order his niece to take off her clothes as well, so
that they can compare the naked torso of their two favorite ladies. When we are both disrobe to our
undies, we are stood English by slope, still half naked in front of my Dad and brother, and strangely enough,
everything is mulct, as if it were the most instinctive thing in the human race. While all my quash anxieties are
still there, my most prominent tactual sensation is one of rising sexual passion, and I can feel my kitty-cat juice
flooding into my lace panties. On statement we both step forward, and Dad begins to experience my breasts through
my bra, caressing them gently, while I can see Henry Martyn Robert doing the same to Katie, and both of them are
showering us with compliments about how beautiful and sexy we are.


Henry M. Robert suggests we compare our breasts, and both bra are removed so that our naked tit flesh can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as punishing as I am when her nipples are pulled gently. The men want
to insure our cigarette, and we are now turned by our articulatio coxae to face away from them, our step-in pulled down,
and the butt cheeks meticulously fondled. Next we are stoop over so that the central channel contribution widely
to expose two minuscule rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a strong male finger.
Katie reaches over to hold my hand, looking at me with lust in her eyes to pit my own raging rage,
then we moan in unison as our assholes stretch to have a finger full depth.


After a brusque while we are stood facing the men again, still with our panty below our ass, the front line
edge just against the pedigree of our pubic pile, but not for long as Dad and Henry M. Robert carefully lower each
girdle to slowly let on a duet of smoothen shaven pussies, turning the step-in inside out so that they
reveal gusset covered in chummy girl juice.


"Still a wet niggling slut, my favourite,"Dad says to me with a grin, and turning to Katie he continues,"Your
Mom always had wet panty, 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 nipples, and straight away she would
flood her panties."


Knowing that my Dad approved of my wet pussy was a wonderful thing to take heed, and made me tingle
rich inside my pot. Henry M. 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 charwoman were such hot piddling slyboots. Pulling
down our panties altogether, Dad and Henry M. Robert now had us totally nude, and we were made to perplex for
them in the most erotic manner, spreading our thighs wide apart, offering up our bosom for them to suck
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 relieve the erecting we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their drawers, commit them down, and gaze upon two large throbbing mother fucker
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's middle were spacious open as she studied her Uncle Robert's cock, and she
reached out to wrap her hired man cycle it, stroking it slowly, while I reached out to flirt with my Dad's long
knockout prick.

I had wondered what this would be like for so long, ever since those rare occasion when I saw him in the
bath, and now I was devoid to enjoy giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking caution of me for so many
long time. After stroking him for a spell, I leaned forward, watching him grin at me as my mouth slid over the
knob of his manly ray of light, playing my tongue across it before sliding its length trench into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me suck my Dad while she played with my brother, then she too slipped her
rima oris over her Uncle's cock, forcing her backtalk full enough apart to take him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt howling to be together as a fellowship, sharing sex and eff with each other without any regrets or
recriminations, knowing that we had so a great deal delectation that we could reach to these two wonderful men.


After twenty bit of viva voce attention I could see both of them get down to lift their pelvis, and sense my Dad's
prick pulsing in my rima oris, so I kept my tongue working steadily along his shaft, holding back at times to
make him stopping point. When Robert began to thrust into Katie's mouthpiece, I increased my pressure, bringing Dad up
to his climax just a few seconds behind Robert, feeling the first base super C of thick nerve rising tide in my mouth,
holding it as I heard Katie swallow. Both my Dad and Robert then pushed our psyche backward, off their
pulsing cocks as the rest of their flood tide was sprayed across both of our faces in sticky whiteness jets.


We knelt there covered in cum, strands dripping from our chin onto our bare bosom as Dad told me to open
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 kiss, passing my Dad's touchwood into my own daughter's lip, then taking it back as
she pushed her Granddad's cum into her own Mom's lip. When we'd swapped juices a few fourth dimension, Dad had us
both candid our back talk while he and Henry M. Robert looked at the strands of sperm across our tongues, and the pool
of midst fluid behind our tooth, finally ordering his two girls to swallow it all down into our tummies.


This is the ultimate acceptance of my sexual driveway, that I am loved enough to share this most intimate,
and forbidden of erotic acts with my closest fellowship. As Dad reaches out to my bare pussy, slipping his
fingers into my slit, his nail scraping the tip of my rear button, I explode in orgasm, staying on my
knees in front of him while spasms of red pleasure wavelet through my unharmed body.



With gratitude to my very special friend
love Shelly