Janice's outfit was perhaps the most coverage of them all, and it wasn't even solid fabric. Her top was basically a triangle of white mesh, studded with evenly-spaced silvery gems, connected to a thick gem-studded choker at the neck and a string at the bottom that wrapped around her ribcage, just below the swell of her chest, and tied in the back. The sheer material was stretched almost completely transparent over her twin, volleyball-sized tits, the round, firm globes riding high and proud on her relatively slender chest, the pattern of gemstones warped beyond recognition by the sheer size of her bust, her 'modesty' maintained only by a pair of white pasties underneath that covered her nipples. Glancing down, John had to appreciate her tight, toned body, noting the gentle ripple of abs beneath the smooth, naturally-perfectly-tanned skin of her stomach. A pair of diamond studs gleamed just above her hip bones, drawing John's eyes down until he took note of her 'panties'. They were little more than straps, three thick white strips that looped from one hip, down between her legs, then up and around the other hip before crossing between her legs again, weaving through each other as they crossed over, forming a woven panel that only barely covered her slit, leaving most of her smooth-shaven mound exposed, and even offering glimpses of skin through the gaps between strips. Long, shapely legs with subtly toned thighs carried Janice down the walkway, winding straps that ran up and down her calves leading the eye down to a pair of strappy heels, her toenails painted silver.
Lynn sported a darker, more aggressive look. Her makeup was dark and smoky, contrasting nicely with her pale skin, her eyeliner swept into elegant wings to emphasize their usually-subtle almond shape, her full lips painted a dark, glossy purple as they quirked into a cocky smirk. Her hair was long and naturally straight, and very dark brown, nearly black, at the root, fading to a warmer brown toward the ends, but she'd put a little loose curl into it and let it hang loose, cascading over her shoulders and down her back. Her ears were hidden, but John knew they sported gauged loops and at least two studs each, positioned along the outer edge... He couldn't see her tongue, either, but he knew from experience she had a pair of barbells in it, and that she knew how to use them. She also had a tattoo on her ass, heavily stylized script labelling her 'Slut', with a forked tail coming off the S and curling around to underline the word.
Lynn was the shortest of her sisters by a couple inches, despite being the oldest, but she compensated with a pair of towering, glossy black platform heels that let her match Janice's height, her heel lifted so high she was practically on tiptoe. Lynn's outfit, if it even could be considered an outfit, was nothing more than straps of black leather, maybe an inch wide, studded every few inches with silvery studs. A strap came down over each shoulder and down to her chest, each passing over one of her dusky pink nipples before continuing down. Despite being shorter and more petite than Janice, Lynn's tits were just as big, a pair of hefty, volleyball-sized mounds that looked even more impressive on her slender frame. The studded leather straps were pushed forward by the sheer size of her tits, barely touching her ribs but pulled tight across her bountiful bust, sinking into the soft flesh just enough to make the pillowy mounds bulge around them slightly. The straps met at her bellybutton, cinched together with a wide steel ring, before running down between her legs and disappearing out of sight, barely covering the teenager's smooth-shaven slit. A single misstep could have spread those straps apart and bared her lips to the world... but knowing Lynn, she'd have done it on purpose.
Aunt Amy strode down the makeshift runway, the tall, perfectly-tanned milf looking like a goddess of sex, long, silky black hair flowing behind her as she moved. Purple eyeshadow gave her green eyes a smolder as she shot John a sultry look, her plump, soft lips painted a deep, glossy red, the finest pair of dick sucking lips in the world quirked into a suggestive smirk as she approached the car. Her blush was contoured to emphasize her pronounced cheekbones, giving her a sort of regal, dignified look, her features framed by golden hoop earrings dangling from her ears.
Aunt Amy didn't bother with any pretense of modesty. Whatever she was doing, she always tried to wear as little as she could get away with, often walking around the house completely naked. She loved her body, and often said it would be a crime to hide it away, especially after all the work she'd put into it. This was no exception. Aunt Amy wore nothing more than a sort of long-sleeved leotard made of loosely-woven fishnet, its criss-crossing black strands clinging to her every inch of her incredible curves, and a pair of strappy stiletto heels made of clear plastic, so as not to distract from her long legs.
Every inch of Aunt Amy looked like it was diligently sculpted by an artist trying to capture the essence of female sexuality. Her long, shapely legs, her thighs that struck the perfect balance of soft and toned.. Her wide, round hips and ass, her cheeks perfectly smooth half-globes, like halves of a basketball, springly and firm to the touch yet soft enough to engulf John's fingers when he squeezed them... Her slender waist, not waifish, but not chubby either, smooth and soft but with the subtle contour of muscle underneath... Not to mention her pride and joy, her self-described best feature, her absolutely massive, jaw-dropping, cock-hardening tits! Each massive melon was the size of a beach ball, bigger than her head, soft as clouds, but they had that same gravity-defying firmness that all the Best girls' chests shared, standing proudly on her chest without a stretch mark in sight, crowned with thimble-sized nipples atop the pink peaks of those mountainous mammaries. The fishnet strained over her glorious chest, stretched to its limit, her tits bulging out around the strained strands slightly.
