"Am I still a prisoner?" asked Susan. She turned, still kneeling at my knees. Her mouth and chin were slick. So were the ends of her breasts; I concluded that she had been playing with them while her mouth was servicing me.
Both Stephanie and Sandra were examining me. I think I had swollen to some kind of personal record—a personal best of about eight-and-a-half inches. My prick was so stiff I could feel my pulse throbbing in it. I hoped my mother-in-law and sister-in-law were proud of Susan.
Sandra said, "Well, it's Tommy's birthday. I think he has some choice in the matter."
Stephanie nodded. I noticed she was squeezing together her thighs, rhythmically. I think I know what she had being doing while she watched Susan do me. She said, "Tommy's choice, but I want to watch Susan's face when she comes."
"Oh, naturally," said Susan. You too Mom, right?"
"Well, if Steph is going to ..."
I said, "Okay, love. Just get up, right there, and bend over. Put your hands on the coffee table."
Susan had one hand on the table already, as she rose from the floor. "Oh, I'm getting it from behind?"
"So they can watch your face," I said. I added thoughtfully, "I also I think it's very exciting to watch a woman's breasts jouncing and clapping together while she's getting banged. Especially hanging ones."
"Good point," said Susan. She already was in place.
Sandra said, "Your head is hanging down, Susan. All we see is blond hair."
"Oops!" Susan looked up. From where I was, it seemed as though she had launched a stare-down contest with her sister.
I rose from the chair, aware that all eyes were on the war club I swung in front of me. Looking at three beautiful naked women, all different, didn't wilt it a bit. As I positioned myself behind Susan, my palms on her curvy haunches, I said, "Don't expect me to last long."
"Oh, okay, then I'm going to rub my clit," said Susan. She added, "Assuming that's all right with my captors."
"I might rub mine, too," said Stephanie thoughtfully, as though saying, "Maybe the salad, for me, too." She turned to Sandra, "You, Mom?"
"Most certainly not!" said Sandra. "I probably will when I'm by myself. I don't mean that I find this un-erotic..." And then, "No one but your father ever saw me come."
Susan moaned. I had started abruptly and when you shove in more than eight inches, the vagina knows it. "Oh, slower, slower," gasped Susan—but they all say that. Maybe because men love to hear it. Of course, I rammed her a bit harder.
"Oh, careful, Tommy," said Sandra from the sidelines.
Susan's tone, although her voice was breathy as her big body jolted forward, then backward, was reproachful—but mostly embarrassed. "Mom! I can watch out for my own cunt! This isn't our first time, you know!"
"Sorry," said Sandra humbly. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"Jeez!" gasped Susan, and I couldn't tell if she was replying to her Mom or my prick, which felt to me even larger, now.
Stephanie said, "I'm watching Tommy's face, too. He makes such funny expressions! Every time he really slams Susan, his tongue comes out!"
With rather rhythmic gasps, Susan managed to get out: "Stephanie, I can't see what you're doing to yourself... Oh! Oh! Why don't you... Uh! Spread'em... Oh, wait, Tommy! Uh! Spread'em, I mean...oh! You've spied...ah! On me since I was 18...oh!"
Agreeable Stephanie lifted her knees, resting one small foot up on either side of the coffee table at her end. Not enough. She moved one foot over to an easy chair. Now, she was fully on display. We could see all her good work, the unkempt patch of sandy bush soaked on either side, and, in the exposed center, the light pink button of her little clit fiercely pushing out of its cowl and the stem above it swollen enough to see for an inch or more. She had lifted away her hands, as though to say, "Walla!" and looked at us for approbation.
"Sizzling pussy, Sis," gasped Susan.
