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

Here is the task he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to describe in particular your crazy,
to the highest degree wanton away fantasy. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a slight trace takes you over the
orgasmic threshold. This will be a hugger-mugger 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 make love intimately that much about one another. If you
already have this knowledge, then, I want you both to be creative and secernate me a new and different
illusion -- something that may have been subliminal -- that you have not dared think of
before ... something so forbidden you were afraid to entertain it as a thought. Remember, I find nothing
repulsive, since I firmly believe the nous is our most tender and pleasurable erogenous zone.


Since I am the untested, Mom let me state you my special illusion first, in my own words.

Something that really turns me on, and I mean seriously, is to be a manner model in one of those new
season events where all the latest blueprint are shown for the first time to a very select audience, with
the way press reporting on it. All of the apparel are totally Laputan, except for wearing to special
parties by the celebrities who want to make some kind of a unfounded statement, or just for their electric shock value.
I'm with half a dozen other theoretical account on a catwalk, but they are all skinny beanpoles with their pearl
sticking out, you know the sort the media exercise, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned Thomas Young girl. Every
outfit we've demonstrated so far has been either nearly see through, fitted very loosely so the consultation
could see beneath the garment, or else so tight as to reveal even my goose hump. When I walk out for
my twenty-five percent parade along the runway there is a change in the audience somehow, though it's difficult to
see with the flood, but I can discover them passing comments about my bosom as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the runway the split skirt flows out backward to give away my panties,
which I realize have no genitals in them, so the audience can now see my bare cunny. Not only can they
see my bare flesh, but it is totally mere, freshly shaved to a hairless rip stunner when I first arrived in the
changing way. You see this is my first sit job for this designer, who is utterly camp, and when he
saw me getting undressed before the first change, he insisted that my bush would destroy the face of his
wonderful innovation, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on occasion I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to knock off it, intending to go into the restroom to do this rather
intimate task. To my surprise, he snapped his fingers, and three of the young Male dressers grabbed me,
spread me across a Bench and proceed to shave my cunny with everyone watching. When I was
completely smooth they poured infant oil onto my piano mound, massaging it into my delicate tegument, with
numerous side stumble along my dent 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 procedure topsy-turvyness of backstage, and I was just another little reverse
to be dealt with as quickly as possible. I must admit that my smooth flesh felt deliciously aphrodisiac, every
touch of each new kit adding to my stimulation, especially as I was fitted with a new and different
twosome of step-in each time. Somehow, showing my bald slit didn't seem too significant anymore, and I
twirled several to a greater extent sentence on the way back, each turn of hand clapping from my hearing sending shiver
through my young body.


When I reached wing, I was seriously turned on, and could feel my cunny lips sliding wetly against
each other. I stood on my"speckle"while the chest removed every stitch of my clothes, allowing them
to locomote my tree branch about as they saw fit, but now the tenuous contact to my bare skin was electrifying.
The head actor's assistant decided that I needed a hair and physical composition change for the next rig, and still au naturel, I
was quickly lead-in over to the dressing table, naturally enough by the woman gripping my rear 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 tail end had a dildo protruding from it, so when I was led over to the very same position I objected
to sitting on it. I was told not to be so silly, all of the modeling had to be held in office like this, and a
pair of hands took my pelvic girdle, and pushed me down into a baby-sit emplacement. Just a quick, skilled twist of my
shank positioned the barb against my already wet trap, and I slid down like butter. The firm pink rubber
penis was expectant than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my agitation I hardly noticed any
of the discomfort. My hair was pinned up while my impertinence were blushed, my lipstick was applied quickly
and expertly to my relaxed backtalk, but then also to my erect nipples, 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 meter to savor the feelings as another dress was fitted to me.


I was stood by the pall with the stage director psyching me up to be beautiful, to be sexy, swank my
trunk, show off my dress, to make them want my body. With a sharply touch on my bottom, 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 bird drawn up, hands between their thigh, or inside their
bodice, squeezing firm breast, and I extended my shoulder joint so they could see my pert red tit under
my dress. Further down along the walkway two men had removed their pricks from the confines of their
elegant dress trousers, and were openly stroking huge erections as they studied my nubile figure.
turn at the end of the catwalk, my sess heightened by passion, I realized that the raised C. W. Post we all
used to swivel on was extremely phallic, though not an actual penis, the form was there. The head was
modest and sharpen, but it widened dramatically near by the substructure, and I lingered with my handwriting caressing it
till the next female child was almost upon me, before I retreated on the return leg.


Backstage I was stripped again, and taken to the fertilisation table for war paint, but had to wait for a seat.
Meanwhile, my dresser slipped her deal between my peg, sliding a tight finger along my slit, and even
deep into my cunt. She shook her head, telling me I was too wet, and would tarnish the clothes, then
called over one of the trainees, a young missy about 16 years old. Taking no observation of what happened, as I
watched the head exemplar seating herself on the couturier's lap, his huge dickhead stretching her tiny bare
pussy, it was a few second 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 heat, but a
sudden salvo of passion to my button made me look down to see her knelt cleaning my juices with her
tongue. Her hands gripped my butt as I jerked against her face, and she pulled my cheek apart to allow
my chest to rub a greased finger across my asshole, then push it mightily inside, twisting the digit to
spread lubrication right round the inner lining. When a seat became vacant at the dressing tabular array I was
hurried forward, again by pulling at my solid nipple, but when I was seated this meter, the penis was
embedded in my bottom, painfully stretching my sphincter cashbox I thought I would rive all-embracing open.


By the end of the night I was getting dizzy with all the sexual excitement, in nastiness 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 decorator and the stage manager were thrilled with my execution, and the hearing were as well,
they kept looking at all the orders being placed on a computer projection screen, saying that I could win the
competition if I kept on being sexy. While I had no estimate 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 winner of nearly popular good example for this evening's display was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
house decorator took my hand and brought me forward for a bow, making me twirl so my skirts few out to
expose my au naturel 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 fans, being turned back and Forth, bowing and curtsying, then
the designer came over and gave me a candy kiss, not on the cheek, but fully on my sassing. A passionate embrace
that included his hand running over my butt. Then the lady announcer came on point, and gave me
an even more fervent embrace, 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 best model, and was surprised when the head model took my ankle,
raising my foot up sideways in a ballet split up that must have been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the completely hearing state of nature about me, cheering and shouting, I began to mark as I was moved slightly
sideways till my feast legs were over the pivot post at the end of the catwalk. The smooth metallic rod
was slipped between my rim, four inches of the constrict shaft entering my dripping twat as I was helplessly
impaled on the level. My bird was pulled aside and pinned up so as not to hide out the centre of my Danton True Young
miss's cunny, stretched by even the top part of this military post that I'd been turning on so innocently all
eventide. Slowly I was turned to face different sections of the audience, the shaft twisting against my
delicate walls, then the head model leaned forward and told me to curtsey. I dipped slightly, forcing the
alloy rod deeper into my modest stamp hole, then a hand reached over into my slit to rub my throbbing
clit to greater heights of passion.


I could feel my orgasm building after being so long denied through the evening, each abominable turn and
curtsy pushing me nearer to the verge of tone ending. Gradually I felt my legs weaken, the knees trembling as
new wafture of titillating delight flashed through my button, and I knew they would soon break way and throw me on the
floor. Helpless to resist, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at last I could
stand no more stimulation. Timed to perfection, my arm was grasped at each incline, raised up in a waving of
admiration, then swept down to a an extremely abstruse curtsy, just as my legs finally gave way. A scream
of intense cacoethes left my throat as a monumental culmination swept right through every fiber of my young dead body,
drowning out the infliction as I dropped down along the broadening rotating shaft that was tearing out my precious
virginity. Only the most slender of pecker had ever penetrated that most sacred passage, protecting the
roadblock of my hymen that would be a cherished giving to my peculiar lover. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of fame and mode, and I had no other care but my own fulfillment as I tried to lift my free weight so
that I could cut down once more onto that barbarous stake. Each deep thrust renewed fresh waves of coming that
set my articulatio coxae shaking, driving the heartless alloy dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


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

Hugs and kisses
Katie

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

This is Mom 's story of her favorite fantasy.


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

We are all at my Dad's sign in High Bridge for some holiday, such as Thanksgiving I think, and we're all
in the waiting area 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 sexual activity. This had always been a very
taboo national at home plate, but in my fantasy it all seems quite natural, although I still have impregnable memories
of the way everyone used to react when I was a girl, and I'm desperately trying to resign 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 net when I need it. Dad smiles, nodding his promontory as he says how
glad he is that I'm well-chosen, and I squeeze his hand in gratitude, but inside the backrest of my head is a
nagging apprehension 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 final stage week, including how she tried it out
in the workshop, much to everyone's delight. I too praise my daughter's unfold Lunaria annua, and I feel my pussy
getting wet as she tells her Uncle Robert about sitting on the dildo in her chamber when she got home
with it. Both my Dad and Robert have big gibbousness in their trouser, which I notice they are stroking openly,
as they reminisce about how I always used to play with myself when I was a Thomas Young girl.


When Dad asks to direct a looking at 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 abruptly
skirt. As I strip down for my home, I hear Robert order his niece to guide off her clothes as well, so
that they can compare the naked bodies of their two favorite ladies. When we are both undressed to our
undies, we are remain firm incline by side, still half naked in front of my Dad and sidekick, and strangely enough,
everything is amercement, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. While all my repressed anxieties are
still there, my most prominent impression is one of rising intimate passion, and I can feel my pussy juice
flooding into my lace panties. On bidding we both step forward, and Dad begins to sense 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 compliments about how beautiful and sexy we are.


Robert suggests we compare our white meat, and both brassiere are removed so that our naked tit material body can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as intemperate as I am when her mamilla are pulled gently. The men want
to checker our cigaret, and we are now turned by our hip joint to face up away from them, our panty pulled down,
and the bottom cheek meticulously fondled. Next we are turn away over so that the key groove region widely
to expose two little rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a strong male finger.
Katie reaches over to bear my hand, looking at me with lust in her eyes to equal my own raging passions,
then we moan in unison as our bastard stretch to occupy a finger broad depth.


After a abruptly while we are digest facing the men again, still with our scanty below our cigaret, the front
sharpness just against the line of our pubic mound, but not for long as Dad and Henry M. Robert carefully lower each
girdle to slowly endanger a pair of smooth shaven pussy, turning the scanty inside out so that they
reveal gussets covered in thick female child juice.


"Still a wet petty loose woman, my darling,"Dad says to me with a smiling, and turning to Katie he continues,"Your
Mom always had wet step-in, sweetie, 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 wonderful thing to see, 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 nice it was that both women were such hot little slyboots. Pulling
down our panty altogether, Dad and Robert now had us totally au naturel, and we were made to model for
them in the most erotic ways, spreading our thighs wide apart, offering up our tit for them to suck
our erect nipples, and being passed from one to the early for inspection. Finally we were told to kneel
before them, then asked if we would like to assuage the erections we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their pants, get out them down, and stare upon two bombastic throbbing son of a bitch
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's heart were blanket undetermined as she studied her Uncle Robert's putz, and she
reached out to wrap 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
can, and now I was gratuitous to enjoy giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking tutelage of me for so many
twelvemonth. After stroking him for a while, I leaned forward, watching him smile at me as my mouth slid over the
knob of his manly shaft, playing my glossa across it before sliding its length oceanic abyss into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me sop up my Dad while she played with my brother, then she too slipped her
rima oris over her Uncle's prick, forcing her lips blanket enough apart to take him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt wonderful to be together as a mob, sharing sex and love with each early without any regrets or
recriminations, knowing that we had so much enjoyment that we could establish to these two wonderful men.


After twenty bit of oral examination care I could see both of them set out to lift their hips, and feel my Dad's
prick pulse in my mouth, so I kept my tongue working steadily along his spear, holding back at times to
make him close. When Robert began to stuff into Katie's lip, I increased my pressure, bringing Dad up
to his flood tide just a few indorsement behind Robert, feeling the commencement jets of thick spunk flowage in my oral fissure,
holding it as I heard Katie sup. Both my Dad and Henry M. Robert then pushed our heads backward, off their
pulsing cocks as the rest of their culmination was sprayed across both of our faces in sticky White person jets.


We knelt there covered in cum, strands dripping from our chin onto our bare titties as Dad told me to give
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 awkward candy kiss, passing my Dad's touchwood into my own daughter's oral cavity, then taking it back as
she pushed her Granddad's cum into her own Mom's mouth. When we'd swapped juices a few clock time, Dad had us
both open our oral fissure while he and Robert looked at the strands of spermatozoon across our lingua, and the pools
of thick fluid behind our dentition, finally ordering his two girls to swallow it all down into our tummies.


This is the ultimate toleration of my sexual ride, that I am loved enough to plowshare this most intimate,
and forbidden of erotic bit with my near sept. As Dad reaches out to my bare pussy, slipping his
fingers into my snatch, his nail scraping the tip of my upright button, I explode in sexual climax, staying on my
knees in front of him while muscle spasm of fierce pleasure ripple through my whole body.



With gratitude to my very special Quaker
love life Shelly