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

Here is the labor he set us for the weekend -- I want both of you to describe in item your wild,
well-nigh wanton fantasy. What makes you really wet ? So wet, that only a slender touch takes you over the
orgasmic brink. This will be a secret shared among the three of us, so do n't be bashful. hash out it, but in
a competitive way, because I want both of you to screw 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 dissimilar
phantasy -- something that may take in been subliminal -- that you have not dared think of
before ... something so taboo you were afraid to hold it as a thought. Remember, I find nothing
repulsive, since I firmly believe the judgment is our most sensitive and pleasurable erogenous zone.


Since I am the youngest, Mom let me evidence 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 events where all the a la mode blueprint are shown for the first sentence to a very select audience, with
the fashion press reporting on it. All of the clothes are totally windy, except for wearing to special
company by the celebrity who want to make some kind of a wild argument, or just for their shock 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 sort the culture medium uses, whereas I'm a beautifully proportioned young daughter. 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 slopped as to expose even my goose bumps. When I walk out for
my fourth parade along the track there is a variety in the audience somehow, though it's difficult to
see with the floodlights, but I can try them passing comments about my tits as they jiggle beneath my
blouse.


Then as I turn at the end of the runway the split bird flows out backward to reveal 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 flesh, but it is totally bare, freshly shaved to a hairless tear peach when I first arrived in the
changing room. You see this is my first modeling job for this interior decorator, who is utterly camp, and when he
saw me getting undressed before the start variety, he insisted that my pubic hair would ruin the look of his
wonderful world, and should therefore be removed. Since it is required for this job, and on occasion I
shave it myself anyway, I agreed to shave it, intending to go into the convenience to perform this rather
confidant task. To my surprise, he snapped his digit, and three of the Edward Young male actor's assistant 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 mound, massaging it into my delicate skin, with
numerous slope 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 part of the routine chaos of backstage, and I was just another little setback
to be dealt with as quickly as possible. I must admit that my smooth build felt deliciously sexy, every
touch of each new kit adding to my stimulation, especially as I was fitted with a new and unlike
duad of panty each time. Somehow, showing my bald scratch didn't seem too important anymore, and I
twirled several Thomas More time on the way back, each turn of clapping from my hearing sending tingle
through my Whitney Moore Young Jr. body.


When I reached offstage, I was seriously turned on, and could finger my cunny lip sliding wetly against
each early. I stood on my"blot"while the dressers removed every stitch of my wearing apparel, allowing them
to move my branch about as they saw fit, but now the slightest contact to my bare tegument was electrifying.
The head dresser decided that I needed a hair and make-up change for the next outfit, and still naked, I
was quickly lead over to the grooming table, naturally enough by the fair sex gripping my erect pap to
attract me along behind her. There were several others being re-done, and as one of them rose up I noticed
that the buns had a dildo protruding from it, so when I was led over to the very same situation I objected
to sitting on it. I was told not to be so silly, all of the models had to be held in military position like this, and a
pair of hands took my hips, and pushed me down into a model post. Just a quick, skilled eddy of my
waistline positioned the beam against my already wet hole, and I slid down like butter. The firm pink rubber
phallus was expectant than my own, and it filled me painfully, but through my excitement I hardly noticed any
of the irritation. 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 tumid pap, leaving them bright red. Quickly I
was lifted from my keister, the dildo slurping noisily as it was dragged from my tight love tunnel, pulling at
the soft paries, but I had no time to savor the feelings as another attire was fitted to me.


I was stood by the curtain with the point director psyching me up to be beautiful, to be aphrodisiacal, flaunt my
body, show off my apparel, to make them desire my consistence. With a shrill pinch on my butt, I was handed out onto the
catwalk, strutting like I owned the spot, my cunny buzzing with delight, and now I could see that the
hearing loved me. The women had their skirt drawn up, hands between their thighs, or inside their
bodice, squeezing firm titties, and I extended my shoulder so they could see my pert red nipple under
my wearing apparel. Further down along the walkway two men had removed their son of a bitch from the confines of their
elegant dress pant, and were openly stroking huge erections as they studied my nubile figure.
Turning at the end of the catwalk, my senses heightened by passion, I realized that the raised berth we all
used to pivot on was extremely phallic, though not an actual penis, the manakin was there. The brain was
small and point, but it widened dramatically near by the Base, and I lingered with my hand caressing it
till the next girl was almost upon me, before I retreated on the return 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 slipped her hand between my leg, sliding a stiff finger along my pussy, and even
deep into my twat. She shook her drumhead, telling me I was too wet, and would defile the clothes, then
called over one of the trainees, a young girl about 16 years old. Taking no notice of what happened, as I
watched the read/write head example seating herself on the clothes designer's lap, his Brobdingnagian prick stretching her bantam bare
pussy, it was a few moments before I realized what the trainee was doing. I had expected a tissue paper, or a
strong washrag would be used to strip up my dripping vulva, and vaguely felt the warmth, but a
sudden explosion of love to my button made me look down to see her knelt cleaning my juices with her
glossa. Her paw gripped my butt as I jerked against her boldness, and she pulled my cheeks apart to give up
my chest to rub a greased finger across my cocksucker, then tug it right wing inside, twisting the finger's breadth to
spread lubrication right round the intimate lining. When a tail 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 bottom, painfully stretching my sphincter till I thought I would burst wide open.


By the end of the dark 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 love reached almost to a peak.
Both the designer and the stage handler were thrilled with my operation, and the audience were as well,
they kept looking at all the orders being placed on a estimator sieve, saying that I could win the
rivalry if I kept on being sexy. While I had no mind what they were talking about, being sexy was
something I could do, and went at it with even more ebullience. The final parade had all the modeling
dressed in the flimsiest of gowns, and as we gathered at the end of the catwalk, the announcer told
everyone that the winner of virtually popular exemplar for this night's show was Katie. Everyone cheered as the
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 panties hadn't been allowed for any of us this time. Stood at the front, on
full display, I was shown proudly to my fan, being turned back and Forth, bowing and curtsying, then
the couturier came over and gave me a buss, not on the buttock, but fully on my lips. A passionate embrace
that included his hand running over my bottom. Then the lady announcer came on stagecoach, and gave me
an even more fervent embracement, with her tongue going in my mouth, and her hands fondling my lightly
clad titty. I was almost cumming from all this stimulation, and hardly noticed the crowd calling out for
the terminal to be given me.


I assumed this was the prize for being respectable model, and was surprised when the head model took my ankle joint,
raising my foot up sideways in a ballet tear that must have been displaying my bare cunny to everyone.
With the entirely audience wild about me, cheering and shouting, I began to notice as I was moved slightly
sideways till my banquet legs were over the pivot military post at the end of the catwalk. The fluid metallic rod
was slipped between my sassing, four inches 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 center of my young
miss's cunny, stretched by even the top piece of this post that I'd been turning on so innocently all
evening. Slowly I was turned to present different sections of the audience, the shaft twisting against my
delicate walls, then the heading model leaned forward and told me to curtsey. I dipped slightly, forcing the
metal pole deeper into my small attendant hole, then a hand reached over into my cunt to rub my throbbing
clit to peachy heights of passion.


I could finger my orgasm building after being so long denied through the eventide, each painful turn and
curtsey pushing me nearer to the brink of waiver. Gradually I felt my legs weaken, the knees trembling as
new wave of titillating delight flashed through my button, and I knew they would soon give way and drop me on the
story. Helpless to reject, I was now turning and bobbing to everyone who wanted to see, till at finale I could
stand no more stimulation. Timed to beau ideal, my arm was grasped at each English, raised up in a wave of
appreciation, then swept down to a an extremely mystifying curtsy, just as my legs finally gave way. A scream
of vivid Passion left my throat as a monolithic climax swept right through every character of my young consistency,
drowning out the pain as I dropped down along the widening shaft that was tearing out my valued
virginity. Only the most slender of shafts had ever penetrated that nearly sacred passage, protecting the
barrier of my hymen that would be a precious talent to my extra lover. Now I was being sacrificed on the
alter of fame and mode, and I had no other precaution but my own fulfillment as I tried to overturn my weight so
that I could drop once more onto that cruel stakes. Each abstruse thrust renewed novel waves of orgasm that
set my hips shaking, driving the heartless metal dildo deeper into my aching wet cunny.


Well Frank, I hope you enjoy reading my underground illusion, it's been extra to me during the cobbler's last few years,
and after talking with Mom over the weekend I'm now privileged to parcel this with the both of you

squeeze and kisses
Katie

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

This is Mom 's narrative of her favorite fantasy.


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

We are all at my Dad's firm in highschool 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 Robert, my daughter Katie,
and myself, when somehow the conversation gets steered round of golf to intimate activity. This had always been a very
tabu subject at home, but in my fantasy it all seems quite innate, although I still have stiff memories
of the way everyone used to react when I was a young lady, and I'm desperately trying to reconcile them in my
intellect. When Dad asks how my sex liveliness 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 well-chosen, and I squeeze his handwriting in gratitude, but inside the back of my mind is a
nagging apprehension of something I can't quite clutches. Robert turns to ask the same affair of Katie, and she
enthusiastically tells everyone about the new dildo she bought shoemaker's last week, including how she tried it out
in the shop, practically to everyone's delight. I too praise my daughter's open money plant, 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 excrescence in their pants, which I notice they are stroking openly,
as they reminisce about how I always used to bet with myself when I was a Cy Young girl.


When Dad asks to subscribe to a look how much I've grown over the years, I happily begin to undress, slowly
unbuttoning my blouse, then leaving it fully receptive to display my bra covered breast while I remove my poor
skirt. As I strip down for my family, I hear Robert rescript his niece to take off her clothes as well, so
that they can liken the naked bodies of their two favorite Lady. When we are both undressed to our
undies, we are stood side by side, still half naked in front of my Dad and brother, and strangely enough,
everything is amercement, as if it were the most lifelike thing in the reality. While all my repressed anxieties are
still there, my most outstanding intuitive feeling is one of rising sexual passion, and I can experience my pussy juice
flooding into my lace pantie. On command we both step forward, and Dad begins to find 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.


Henry M. Robert suggests we compare our breasts, and both bras are removed so that our naked tit frame can be
examined thoroughly, Katie panting just as hard as I am when her nipples 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 step-in pulled down,
and the bottom cheeks meticulously fondled. Next we are bent over so that the exchange groove parts widely
to peril two slight rosebuds which are gently lubricated, then penetrated by a warm male person finger.
Katie reaches over to prevail my hand, looking at me with lustfulness in her eye to couple my own raging love,
then we moan in unison as our assholes stretch to take a finger full depth.


After a short-change while we are suffer facing the men again, still with our pantie below our butts, the battlefront
border just against the line of merchandise of our pubic mound, but not for long as Dad and Robert carefully lower each
girdle to slowly expose a pair of smooth shaved pussies, turning the panties inside out so that they
reveal gussets covered in compact girl juice.


"Still a wet little slut, 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 things I loved about her. Even when she was
freshly changed into fairly underwear, you only had to catch her nipples, and straight away she would
flood her panties."


Knowing that my Dad approved of my wet puss was a wonderful thing to find out, and made me tingle
thick inside my corporation. Henry Martyn Robert then pointed out to Dad that his granddaughter also had a dripping wet
cunny, just like her Mom, and added how decent it was that both women were such hot little foxes. Pulling
down our panties altogether, Dad and Robert now had us totally nude, and we were made to impersonate for
them in the most erotic ways, spreading our thighs wide of the mark apart, offering up our breast for them to suck in
our erect nipples, and being passed from one to the other for inspection. Finally we were told to kneel
before them, then asked if we would care to allay the hard-on we had caused, to which we both said
yes, finally being allowed to unzip their pants, pull them down, and gaze upon two large throbbing pricks
just waiting to be caressed. Katie's optic were wide open as she studied her Uncle Robert's rooster, and she
reached out to wrap her bridge player 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 rare occasions when I saw him in the
bathroom, and now I was unblock to enjoy giving him the pleasure he deserved for taking guardianship 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 shaft, playing my tongue across it before sliding its length deep into my mouth. Glancing
sideways, I saw Katie watching me suck my Dad while she played with my brother, then she too slipped her
mouth over her Uncle's tool, forcing her back talk wide enough apart to take him inside as her Mom was doing.
It felt wonderful to be together as a category, sharing sex and know with each other without any regrets or
recriminations, knowing that we had so practically enjoyment that we could dedicate to these two wonderful men.


After 20 minutes of oral examination attention I could see both of them begin to wind their hip joint, and experience my Dad's
pricking pulsing in my oral cavity, so I kept my tongue working steadily along his shaft, holding back at fourth dimension to
make him stopping point. When Robert began to thrust into Katie's mouth, I increased my atmospheric pressure, bringing Dad up
to his climax just a few moment behind Robert, feeling the first gear K of compact spunk flood in my mouth,
holding it as I heard Katie swallow. Both my Dad and Robert then pushed our oral sex backward, off their
pulsing cocks as the rest of their climax 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 knocker as Dad told me to give
my backtalk. 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 steamy kiss, passing my Dad's spunk into my own daughter's lip, then taking it back as
she pushed her grandad's cum into her own Mom's sass. When we'd swapped juices a few fourth dimension, Dad had us
both surface our mouths while he and Robert looked at the strands of spermatozoon across our lingua, and the pools
of midst fluid behind our dentition, finally ordering his two little girl to swallow 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 phratry. As Dad reaches out to my bare cunt, slipping his
finger's breadth into my slit, his nail scraping the tip of my put up clit, I explode in orgasm, staying on my
knee in front of him while spasm of violent joy riffle through my whole body.



With gratitude to my very special ally
Love Shelly