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

Here is the chore he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to describe in contingent your fantastic,
most wanton fantasy. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a slight touch takes you over the
orgasmic brink. This will be a mystic 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 be intimate intimately that much about one another. If you
already have this knowledge, then, I want you both to be creative and tell me a new and different
illusion -- something that may stimulate been subliminal -- that you have not dared think of
before ... something so taboo you were afraid to think of it as a thought. Remember, I find nothing
repulsive, since I firmly believe the creative thinker is our most sensitive and pleasurable erogenous zone.


Since I am the vernal, Mom let me distinguish you my special illusion 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
season upshot where all the latest designs are shown for the first time to a very select audience, with
the fashion printing press reporting on it. All of the clothes are totally Laputan, except for wearing to special
parties by the famous person who want to make some kind of a idle statement, or just for their shock value.
I'm with half a twelve early modeling on a catwalk, but they are all skinny beanpoles with their osseous tissue
sticking out, you know the form the metier role, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned young miss. 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 unveil even my goose swelling. When I walk out for
my fourth parade along the runway there is a modification in the interview somehow, though it's difficult to
see with the floodlight, but I can pick up them passing input about my breast as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the runway the rent skirt flows out backward to uncover my panties,
which I realize have no crotch in them, so the audience can now see my bare cunny. Not only can they
see my bare shape, but it is totally bare, freshly shaved to a hairless split peach 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 undressed before the first change, he insisted that my bush would ruin the looking at of his
marvellous creations, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on occasion I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to plane it, intending to go into the restroom to perform this rather
intimate task. To my surprise, he snapped his fingers, and three of the Cy Young Male dresser grabbed me,
spread me across a terrace and proceed to plane my cunny with everyone observance. When I was
completely smooth they poured baby oil onto my soft pile, massaging it into my touchy skin, with
numerous 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 function of the bit chaos of backstage, and I was just another lilliputian reverse
to be take with as quickly as possible. I must hold that my smooth flesh felt deliciously sexy, every
touch of each new getup adding to my stimulation, especially as I was fitted with a new and different
pair of panties each fourth dimension. Somehow, showing my bald slit didn't seem too authoritative anymore, and I
twirled several more meter on the way back, each one shot of applause from my interview sending shivers
through my youth body.


When I reached backstage, I was seriously turned on, and could palpate my cunny lips sliding wetly against
each other. I stood on my"position"while the vanity removed every stitch of my clothes, allowing them
to move my branch about as they saw fit, but now the flimsy touch to my bare skin was electrifying.
The nous dresser decided that I needed a hair and makeup change for the next outfit, and still nude, I
was quickly lead over to the dressing mesa, naturally enough by the woman gripping my tumid nipple to
rend 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 Saami status 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 custody took my pelvic arch, and pushed me down into a sitting view. Just a fast, skilled plait of my
waist positioned the shaft against my already wet yap, and I slid down like butter. The house pink rubber
penis was with child than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my excitation I hardly noticed any
of the discomfort. My hair was pinned up while my cheeks were blushed, my lipstick was applied quickly
and expertly to my loosen backtalk, but then also to my upright nipples, leaving them bright red. Quickly I
was lifted from my ass, the dildo slurping noisily as it was dragged from my tight love tunnel, pulling at
the delicate bulwark, but I had no metre to savor the smell as another dress was fitted to me.


I was stood by the curtain with the point film director psyching me up to be beautiful, to be sexy, flaunt my
body, show off my dress, to establish them want my body. With a sharp pinch on my butt joint, I was handed out onto the
catwalk, strutting like I owned the home, my cunny buzzing with pleasure, and now I could see that the
audience loved me. The women had their skirts drawn up, hands between their thigh, or inside their
bodice, squeezing firm titties, and I extended my shoulder so they could see my pert red nipples under
my frock. Further down along the walkway two men had removed their pricks from the confines of their
elegant dress trousers, and were openly stroking immense erections as they studied my nubile figure.
Turning at the end of the catwalk, my gage heightened by passion, I realized that the raised post we all
used to pivot on was extremely phallic, though not an actual penis, the form was there. The head was
belittled and taper, but it widened dramatically near by the base, and I lingered with my handwriting caressing it
till the next miss was almost upon me, before I retreated on the homecoming leg.


backstage I was stripped again, and taken to the dressing table for make-up, but had to wait for a seat.
Meanwhile, my chest of drawers slipped her hand between my pegleg, sliding a cadaver finger along my slit, 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 Thomas Young fille about 16 class old. Taking no notice of what happened, as I
watched the psyche theoretical account seating herself on the architect's lap, his immense prick stretching her tiny bare
cunt, it was a few present moment before I realized what the trainee was doing. I had expected a tissue, or a
lovesome washrag would be used to pick up my dripping vulva, and vaguely felt the warmheartedness, but a
sudden burst of passion to my clit made me look down to see her knelt cleaning my juices with her
spit. Her hands gripped my butt as I jerked against her face, and she pulled my cheeks apart to appropriate
my dresser to rub a greased finger across my asshole, then labor it right inside, twisting the finger's breadth to
spread lubrication right round the interior lining. When a prat became vacant at the dressing table I was
hurried forward, again by pulling at my firm teats, but when I was seated this time, the member was
embedded in my tail end, painfully stretching my sphincter till I thought I would burst wide 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 mania reached almost to a peak.
Both the architect and the stage coach were thrilled with my public presentation, and the consultation were as well,
they kept looking at all the orders being placed on a computer screen, saying that I could win the
competition if I kept on being sexy. While I had no musical theme what they were talking about, being sexy was
something I could do, and went at it with even more than enthusiasm. The final parade had all the theoretical account
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 manakin for tonight's show was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
interior decorator took my deal and brought me forward for a bow, making me twirl so my skirts few out to
expose my naked cunny, as step-in hadn't been allowed for any of us this time. Stood at the front, on
full display, I was shown proudly to my rooter, being turned back and forth, bowing and curtsying, then
the interior designer came over and gave me a kiss, not on the buttock, but fully on my lips. A passionate embracement
that included his deal running over my arse. Then the lady announcer came on stage, and gave me
an even more fervid bosom, with her clapper going in my sassing, and her hands fondling my lightly
clad titties. I was almost cumming from all this foreplay, and hardly noticed the crowd calling out for
the pole to be given me.


I assumed this was the trophy for being best mannikin, and was surprised when the head model took my ankle,
raising my foot up sideways in a ballet split that must have been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the whole audience wild about me, cheering and shouting, I began to detect as I was moved slightly
sideways till my spread leg were over the pivot post at the end of the catwalk. The unruffled metallic rod
was slipped between my lip, four inch of the narrow 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 Loretta Young
girl's cunny, stretched by even the top component part of this post that I'd been turning on so innocently all
evening. Slowly I was turned to face different subdivision of the audience, the shaft twisting against my
delicate rampart, then the head mannequin leaned forward and told me to curtsey. I dipped slightly, forcing the
metal pole deeper into my small attendant fix, then a helping hand reached over into my puss to rub my throbbing
clitoris to cracking acme of passion.


I could experience my climax building after being so long denied through the evening, each painful turn and
curtsy pushing me nearer to the brink of loss. Gradually I felt my legs weaken, the knees trembling as
new waves of erotic delight flashed through my clitoris, and I knew they would soon leave way and drop me on the
floor. Helpless to jib, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at finale I could
stand no more stimulation. Timed to ne plus ultra, my arm was grasped at each face, raised up in a wave of
appreciation, then swept down to a an extremely recondite curtsy, just as my legs finally gave way. A shrieking
of intense Passion left my throat as a monolithic climax swept right through every roughage of my young consistency,
drowning out the annoyance as I dropped down along the turnout shaft that was tearing out my treasured
virginity. Only the most slender of ray of light had ever penetrated that near sacred passage, protecting the
barrier of my virginal membrane that would be a precious gift to my especial lover. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of fame and way, and I had no former care but my own fulfillment as I tried to hoist my weight unit so
that I could drop once more onto that savage stake. Each deeply jab renewed fresh waves of orgasm that
set my pelvic arch shaking, driving the heartless metal dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


Well dog, I hope you enjoy reading my private fantasy, it's been special to me during the utmost few years,
and after talking with Mom over the weekend I'm now privileged to part this with the both of you

squeeze and kisses
Katie

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

This is Mom 's story of her favorite fantasy.


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

We are all at my Dad's theater in High bridge deck for some vacation, such as Thanksgiving I think, and we're all
in the waiting room 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 round to sexual activity. This had always been a very
tabu subject at home base, but in my fantasy it all seems quite raw, although I still have warm retention
of the way everyone used to react when I was a girl, and I'm desperately trying to accommodate 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
gladiola he is that I'm happy, and I squeeze his hand in gratitude, but inside the back of my psyche is a
nagging dread of something I can't quite clutch. Robert turns to ask the same thing of Katie, and she
enthusiastically tells everyone about the new dildo she bought last-place week, including how she tried it out
in the shop class, lots to everyone's delight. I too praise my girl'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 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 take a tone how a lot I've grown over the years, I happily begin to undress, slowly
unbuttoning my blouse, then leaving it fully assailable to display my bra covered boob while I remove my short
skirt. As I strip down for my family, I hear Henry M. Robert ordination his niece to take off her clothes as well, so
that they can equate the naked eubstance of their two ducky ladies. When we are both undressed to our
undies, we are remain firm side of meat by position, still half naked in straw man of my Dad and brother, and strangely enough,
everything is fine, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. While all my repressed anxieties are
still there, my most prominent feeling is one of rising sexual passion, and I can feel my pussy juice
flooding into my lace step-in. On program line we both step forward, and Dad begins to feel 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 compliment about how beautiful and sexy we are.


Robert suggests we compare our breasts, and both bras are removed so that our naked tit pulp can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as hard as I am when her nipples are pulled gently. The men want
to check our backside, and we are now turned by our articulatio coxae to face away from them, our panties pulled down,
and the tail end cheeks meticulously fondled. Next we are knack over so that the central vallecula parts widely
to bring out two footling rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a unattackable Male finger.
Katie reaches over to accommodate my hand, looking at me with lust in her eyes to cope with my own raging mania,
then we moan in unison as our assholes stretch to take a digit full-of-the-moon depth.


After a short while we are stood facing the men again, still with our panties below our tail end, the front
edge just against the line of our pubic mound, but not for long as Dad and Robert carefully small each
waistband to slowly debunk a pair of smooth shaven pussies, turning the panties inside out so that they
reveal voider covered in thick girlfriend juice.


"Still a wet little strumpet, my Darling,"Dad says to me with a smile, and turning to Katie he continues,"Your
Mom always had wet panty, steady, it was one of the things I loved about her. Even when she was
freshly changed into plum 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 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 skillful it was that both charwoman were such hot little foxes. Pulling
down our step-in 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 wide apart, offering up our titties for them to suck
our erect pap, and being passed from one to the former for inspection. Finally we were told to kneel
before them, then asked if we would like to excuse the hard-on we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their trouser, pull them down, and gaze upon two large throbbing pricks
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's eyes were extensive outdoors as she studied her Uncle Robert's cock, and she
reached out to enfold her hand round of drinks it, stroking it slowly, while I reached out to act as with my Dad's long
hard prick.

I had wondered what this would be like for so long, ever since those rare occasions when I saw him in the
bathroom, and now I was unloosen to savour giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking care of me for so many
years. After stroking him for a while, I leaned forward, watching him smile at me as my mouth slid over the
knob of his manly jibe, playing my spit across it before sliding its length deep into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me lactate my Dad while she played with my blood brother, then she too slipped her
sass over her Uncle's prick, forcing her lips wide enough apart to involve him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt wonderful to be together as a kinfolk, sharing sex and love with each other without any rue or
recriminations, knowing that we had so much use that we could impart to these two wonderful men.


After XX minute of arc of unwritten care I could see both of them begin to lift their articulatio coxae, and feel my Dad's
tool pulsing in my mouth, so I kept my knife working steadily along his shaft, holding back at multiplication to
make him last. When Robert began to hurl into Katie's rima oris, I increased my insistence, bringing Dad up
to his climax just a few seconds behind Robert, feeling the number one green of midst mettle flood in my mouth,
holding it as I heard Katie deglutition. Both my Dad and Robert then pushed our heads backward, off their
pulsing dick as the repose of their climax was sprayed across both of our faces in gummy white jets.


We knelt there covered in cum, strands dripping from our mentum onto our bare bosom as Dad told me to open
my back talk. 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 kiss, passing my Dad's spunk into my own daughter's mouth, then taking it back as
she pushed her Granddad's cum into her own Mom's rima oris. When we'd swapped juices a few meter, Dad had us
both out-of-doors our oral fissure while he and Robert looked at the strands of spermatozoon across our tongues, and the pools
of midst fluid behind our teeth, finally ordering his two girls to immerse it all down into our tummies.


This is the ultimate acceptance of my sexual drives, that I am loved enough to share this most intimate,
and forbidden of erotic acts with my closest family. As Dad reaches out to my bare snatch, slipping his
fingers into my slit, his nail scraping the tip of my erect clitoris, I explode in orgasm, staying on my
knees in front of him while muscle spasm of violent pleasance wavelet through my all body.



With gratitude to my very peculiar friend
Love Shelly