Well, That Backfired 3 free porn video

TOM

“Is that the house?” I ask Mom as I pull along the curb of the quiet Des Moines cul-de-sac. Mom looks out of the passenger window and nods.

“He still has the black Explorer,” Mom says, gesturing to the truck in the driveway, “you were conceived in the back seat, Tom.”

“That’s more information than I needed.” I reply. Mom gives me an exaggerated look of shock, and I smile.

“What about me?” Laurie perks up from the back seat.

“You were made behind the dumpster of a Hardee’s Jr, Sweetie,” Mom smirks back at her daughter, “and the best versions of you ended up on my back.”

“You don’t want the best versions of me,” Laurie sniggers as she runs her hands through the coils of Mom’s hair, “you like the worst version too much.”

Mother and daughter lock eyes with each other over the front seat of the van. From the shoulders up, the picture of the two almost looks like a mirror image; both women baring strikingly similar facial features and expressions. Their curly, brown hair, big, blue eyes, cut jawline, high cheekbones, pointed nose, and full, pale lips are nearly identical, but move lower, and you can see where mother and daughter differ. Laurie is well shaped, but lean and sleek, while Mom’s curves border on exaggeration. And though the two are sexually different, their eyes share the same carnal hunger, and their mouths express the same seductive smirk. They move together, their lips part, their tongues entwine, and their fingers slink into the curls of each other’s auburn hair.

“Hey, Sierra,” Eleanor pipes-in from the back seat, “is that Bradley?”

Mom whips her head to the side, and stares out the passenger window. Through the reflection of the glass, I see the dim features of her face express melancholy longing. I look over her shoulders, and see my dad for the first time in over a decade. Holy shit, it’s like looking in a mirror. Save for the bald spot on the crown of his head, and the muscle on his arms, he’s a spitting image of myself. He walks out the front door, and gets into the Explorer. A woman follows him out, and waves as he pulls from the driveway. Goddamn, Dad; you sure know how to pick ‘em. Audrie is twenty-seven years of tan skin, blonde hair, and a body you could paint on a warship. Her breasts slope from her chest in perfect proportionality to her statuesque frame, and perch high and full above a flat abdomen toned with soft muscle beneath a tight top. Her back curves in a graceful arc down her length, and ends in a pair of leggings that leave nothing to the imagination. The fabric stretches and clings to the gravity-defying fullness of her backside, whose domes crease perfectly about the thigh in two, smiling folds. She’s wearing hooped earrings that dangle from between strands of long, platinum hair, and her face bares the soft features of rosy cheeks, luscious, pink lips, a narrow nose, and grey, clear irises shining from big, oval eyes.

“You guys know the plan,” Eleanor whispers to Laurie and me, “you two go in there and have fun with your step mom, and Sierra and I will go deal with Bradley.”

“You’re going to have to help us on this one,” I say to Eleanor, “I don’t think Laurie and I can handle a woman like that on our own.”

“Just because she’s a hot piece, doesn’t mean she’s a hard mark,” Eleanor chuckles, “you got me in bed, and if I may be so bold, I think I’m rather attractive.”

“You’re a shameless slut, Ellie,” I smirk, “it was just a matter of time before I got my turn.”

Eleanor pouts her full, red lips in mock indignation. Her green eyes sparkle mischievously from her freckled, pixie-like face, whose innocent structure acts as a perverse mask for the lecherous mind behind it. Her crimson hair bows inwardly about her cheeks, accentuating the girlishness of her portrait, but the innocent façade does not extend to her body. Large, pale breasts protrude vulgarly from the cut neckline of her t-shirt, and her thick legs widen into a set of glutes that burst lasciviously from her plaid skirt. Eleanor is a slut, she’d be the first to tell you that, but she is so much more. I’ve never met someone who can read a person like Eleanor can; she gleans more from a single glance than most could from an extensive conversation. If Laurie and I are going to take Audrie on our own, we’ll need some help from our redheaded harlot.

“Alright,” Eleanor says, and glances out the window. She studies the woman across the street for a moment, and then turns back to me, “what can you tell me about her?”

I look at the beautiful blonde on her porch, and can’t see past the ass and titties. I’m a simple man, what can I say?

“A hot piece of ass.” I reply, and catch a scornful look from Mom and Laurie.

“Let me help you.” Eleanor says with a roll of her eyes, and gestures to my step-mom, “She drives a Prius, with a Bernie Sanders bumper sticker. She has a ‘peace’ flag in the window, a ‘legalize it’ sign in the yard, and a rainbow tire cover in the driveway. She has a UCLA t-shirt, but a John Deere hat on. It’s Thursday, and she’s in her house at ten AM. What does that tell you about her?”

“She’s… a democrat?” I ask stupidly.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Eleanor snorts, “since you’re such a fucking genius, I’ll just tell you. Audrie is a classic example of a country girl who ‘found herself’ in a big-city college. She was the hottest bitch in a small town high school, thought she was too good for the place, and applied to UCLA. Only when she got to L.A, she realized she was just a small fish in a big pond. Her rural heritage didn’t jive with the hot, urban sentiments of her peers, and her superiority complex vanished. Audrie felt insecure for the first time in her life, so what did she do? She reinvented herself to fit in. She cast away her country roots, and dove into the progressive college experience with both feet. She sexually overcompensated because she wanted to experience everything, and she chose a major like Women’s Studies or some shit because all the sudden she was an activist, just like the trendy, urban peers she desperately wanted to impress. She had the time of her life, and those four years she spent in UCLA defined her. But then she graduated, and realized that a liberal art’s major doesn’t pay off student loans. She moved back to Iowa, and latched onto the first man with a stable income she could find: your dad. Now, she spends her days doing yoga and bitching about Trump on the internet. But do you know what the most important thing about Audrie is? She’s bored.”

I stare blankly at Eleanor, both amazed and a little scared at how well she just read a woman she’d never met. Eleanor grins broadly at me, and then kisses me on the neck, places a single finger on my cheek, and turns my attention back to the woman in the doorway.

“I think it’s time I take the training wheels off and let my students fend for themselves,” she whispers seductively, her lips tickling my ear, “Why don’t you and Laurie give Audrie some excitement?”

AUDRIE

Congratulations on finally getting your GED, I type furiously into the youtube comment section, you can put it right next to your NRA certificate. You know, it’s people like you that are the reason this country-

A knock on the door interrupts my self-righteous monologue, and I break my attention from the five paragraphs I was planning to write. Fucking girl scouts; I had a whole dissertation to drop on that ignorant asshole. I walk across the kitchen, open the door, and my jaw almost hits the floor. Holy shit, it’s a young Bradley. The hair, the eyes, the frame; it’s all there.

“Hey,” the young man smiles easily, “are you Audrie Baker?”

“Y-y-yes!” I stammer, still stupefied at what I’m looking at, “How can I help you?”

“I’m Tom Baker,” the man says (of course he is!), “and this is my sister, Laurie.”

I barely noticed the girl standing next to him. She’s about five inches shorter than myself, brown haired, blue-eyed, and wearing a very risqué plaid skirt and button-up shirt.

“Can we come in?” she asks, smiling with the same easy smile as her brother.

“Of course!” I yell, a little too eagerly, “Come in, come in!”

I usher my step-children into the room, my heart beating with excitement. I’d always heard about Tom and Laurie from Bradley, but the only pictures he has of them are of when they were barely older than toddlers. I finally get a chance to meet the mysterious part of his past! This is the most exciting thing to happen to me since I watched the Game of Thrones trailer!

“Make yourselves at home!” I say, gesturing grandly to the minimalist living room, “I’ll get you guys something to drink; beer?” I ask, knowing they’re underage. It seems like a desperate attempt to show them I’m ‘cool,’ and it is, but I really want these kids to like me.

“Sure,” Tom smiles, “got any Bud?”

“No Bud here,” I say, “only craft. You ever have an IPA before?”

“What’s an IPA?” Laurie asks.

“Indian Pale Ale,” I say with a bit too much smugness, “you’ll love it, trust me.”

I walk into the kitchen, very pleased with myself. I’m going to be the awesome step-mom who lets them drink, and knows about trendy microbreweries. Maybe I should offer them some weed? Do they smoke weed? Of course they do, they’re high school kids. I pull the bottles from the fridge, and take out the bag from the drawer.

“You just missed your dad,” I say as I pop the caps and pack a bowl, “by like, ten seconds. I can give him a call if you want.”

“No,” Tom’s voice says from the living room, “we’d like it to be a surprise.”

I finish packing the weed into the bowl, grab the frosty pale ales, and walk into the living room. Tom and Laurie are sitting on the couch together, and I notice Laurie briskly pull her hand away from his as I step into the room. I hand them each their beverages and then coyly show them the pipe I had behind my back.

“I don’t know if you guys partake,” I say slyly as I gently pad the top of the herb, “but I wouldn’t be a good host if I didn’t offer.”

“I do,” Laurie says brightly, accepting the pipe in her hands and giving me an appraising smile (fuck yeah, cool step-mom status confirmed!), before looking at her older brother, “I don’t know about Tom though.”

“I’ve never done it,” Tom says, looking at the weed apprehensively, “I like to keep a clear mind.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, no peer pressure.” I say warmly as I sit on the couch next to Laurie, “But it’s an indica strain, which means it’s like a body high, and won’t mess with your head.”

Laurie lights the corner of the bowl, and inhales until the cherry glows brightly against her face. She takes a smooth exhale without any coughing, and I see her expression begin to droop slightly. She gives me a blissful smile and then passes me the pipe. I expertly corner the bowl, inhale, hold it in, and let it out slowly, before passing it to Tom. Tom looks nervously at the pipe, and Laurie puts a comforting hand on his upper thigh. His composure relaxes, and he accepts my offer. I smile inwardly; I get to be Tom’s first experience with marijuana. Cool step-mom status just got elevated to ‘awesome.’

“So,” I say, as Tom’s virgin lungs hack up smoke, “tell me all about yourselves; I want to hear everything.”

Laurie gives me the synopsis of her life as we burn the weed between us. I learn that she’s on the varsity gymnastics team, that she’s a closeted metalhead, and that she’s currently applying to USC, UCLA, Nebraska, and Boise State. I unabashedly tell her to go to UCLA (go Bruins!), recant the tale of how I met her father, and bitch about Donald Trump a little bit. Tom isn’t much of a talker, and elects to let Laurie and I carry most of the conversation. I glean a bit of information from him; he’s going to Nebraska, he likes videogames and he’s interested in programming, but he mostly remains an intriguing mystery to me. After a half hour, a case of beer, and three bowls of weed, I notice that I’m a little too drunk and a little too high, and so are Laurie and Tom.

“Oh, fuck,” Tom groans, and barely makes it to his feet, “bathroom!”

Tom hurriedly rushes to the bathroom as Laurie tries to get up to help him. She sways dangerously to the side, overcorrects, and then falls awkwardly on top of me.

“Oh my god, I’m so irresponsible!” I laugh, “Your father is going to kill me!”

“I can walk!” Laurie laughs embarrassedly, before failing another attempt, and landing face-first into my lap.

“You are such a light weight!” I cackle, “You’re going to have to work on that before you go to UCLA.”

“Fuck that, go Trojans!” Laurie yells mirthfully, her voice muffled as she talks against my belly.

“I will disown you if you go to USC!” I cry as she raises her head from my lap.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Laurie grins, “you’re not my real mom.”

“I was wondering when you’d pull that shit.” I smirk, crinkling my nose.

“My real mommy lets me do anything I want,” Laurie says in a baby voice, “and the Bruins fucking suck.”

“You little bitch!” I laugh, and throw her off me and onto her back. Laurie laughs gleefully as she sprawls on the couch, her skirt hiking up dangerously past her thighs. I pounce on her in a fit of playfulness and begin tickling and prodding her into a writhing mess of flailing arms and legs.

“Tom!” Laurie yells, “Tom, Audrie is beating me!”

“Shh! Shh! Shh!” I giggle as I clasp a hand over her mouth, “Shut the fuck up!”

Laurie licks the palm of my hand, and I pull it back in revulsion.

“You nasty little girl!” I exclaim through bursts of laughter.

“You have no idea.” Laurie giggles, and then her demeanor changes. The playful curl of her lips subsides into an easy, expectant smile. Her wide-eyed drunkenness softens into a half-lidded gaze. I’m suddenly very aware of the position of our bodies; my legs entwined with hers, my breasts squishing against her petite bust. Her hands are raised above her head and splayed lazily open, and mine are gently gripping her at the waist. How the fuck did this happen?

“I, uhh…” I say awkwardly as I attempt to sit up in my drunken state, “this is weird.”

“It doesn’t seem weird to me at all,” Laurie whispers, and raises her leg so that it bends at the knee, allowing our crotches to push together, “and it seemed very natural for you. You really did have fun in college, didn’t you?”

“I did,” I giggle, and instinctively separate my legs about her thigh, “but those days are behind me.”

“They don’t have to be,” Laurie says, and shifts her body so that we press together from thigh to breast, “it can be our little secret.”

“I’m a married woman,” I say, unable to stop myself from breathing heavily in anticipation, “and you’re my step-daughter.”

“Doesn’t that just make it so much hotter?” Laurie whispers. I smile lustfully, and almost kiss her right there, but I stop myself. No, I cannot do this. Laurie is drunk, underaged, and the daughter of my husband. I am a faithful wife. I struggle to lift myself off her, but my drunken limbs don’t cooperate.

“Whoa,” Tom’s voice says from the threshold, “I clearly missed something.”

“Audrie was trying to convince me to go to UCLA,” Laurie smiles at her brother, “her recruitment methods are a bit unorthodox, but she’s making a compelling argument.”

“This is not what it looks like,” I smile bashfully at Tom, “we were just having some fun.”

“Clearly.” Tom smiles easily to me, and walks toward us. I manage to ease myself upright from Laurie and try to make room on the couch for Tom, but he doesn’t sit in the vacant spot I’ve provided for him. No, Tom stops in front of us, leans forward, and kisses Laurie. Not a kiss on the cheek or the forehead, but an open-lipped, passionate entwining of tongues. What the fuck. They pull from each other, their gazes locked in their love and lust, and then they turn their sapphire irises on me.

“Our family is a little different than others,” Laurie says as she unbuttons Tom’s fly, and my heart skips a beat, “and a lot of people can’t accept that, but you’re not like them, Audrie.”

“You’ve been so open and caring with us,” Tom says, unbuckling his belt, and my stomach knots, “there’s no judgement with you.”

“We feel safe with you,” Laurie smiles warmly as she reaches into Tom’s pants, and my breath quickens, “we feel like we can be ourselves around you.”

I like to think I’m a sexually open-minded person; I’ve had sex with men, women, and all different combinations of the two, and I’m a firm believer that anything done between consenting partners is fair game, but this… this is new to me. It seems that in my quest to make Tom and Laurie like me, and not view me as the home-wrecking cunt who stole their father, I inadvertently made them a little too comfortable with me. My first reaction was shock, but my second reaction is quite different. My step-children trust me so much that they are willing to show a part of themselves they keep hidden from the world. Isn’t that the greatest expression of love? Isn’t that something only family can do? Their confidence in me is endearing, and I must admit, their relationship is… exciting.

“You can be yourselves around me,” I smile as I lean back on the couch, “there’s no judgement here.”

“Should we get a room?” Laurie asks, her eyes watching me knowingly, “We wouldn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No,” I say, feeling my words slip with tremors of excitement, “you’re fine where you are.”

“Do you like to watch?” Tom smiles as his pants drop, and I see what Laurie is holding in her hand.

“I’m certainly not participating,” I smirk, staring unabashedly at the bulging gift between his legs, “I am a faithful wife. Just pretend I’m not here.”

Laurie strokes Tom until he’s engorged in her hand. She looks up at him with a lustful expression of youthful excitement, and he looks down at her with a love so desperate it makes my heart ache. She leans forward, and plants a tender kiss on the tip of his cock. He runs a hand through her delightful curls and guides her forward. Laurie separates her pouting lips and wraps them around him as he inches his way into her mouth. She closes her eyes and savors the taste of him as her neck begins to bulge with his girth. She takes him all the way in, and Tom’s head falls back in bliss. She gags a little, showing her inexperience, but she doesn’t pull him out. She holds him deeply, and rotates her lips against his pelvis; her nose squishing into the flesh of his lower abdomen as lines of saliva drip from her mouth. I spread my legs, and push my hand under my waistband.

She pulls away from him, her lips sucking so tightly that her blushing cheeks stretch from her face. She watches him from the tops of her eyes as she does it, gaging his reaction and adjusting for his needs. Her hand slinks between his legs, and gently massages his balls as she rotates her lips about his crease. Tom’s grip on her head tightens, and he begins to pull her toward him. Laurie places her palms flat against his thighs, and tries to push back, but he forces her to take him in. I almost yell at him, but then I notice the expression in her eyes. They’re partially rolled-back, and brimming with primal want; she likes it like this. I ease back into the couch, and glide my fingers through the moist petals of my erogeneity.

Tom forces his sister’s head forward again, and again, and again. Every brutal pass down his length causes Laurie to gag, and her eyes to well with tears. Wet, pained gurgles permeate from her mouth, but she dutifully keeps her lips locked, and sucking. She stops trying to resist him with her hands, and instead brings them between her own legs. From my view on the couch, I can see the dark stain down the length of her laced panties. She drives her fingers down her skirt, and I see them writhing chaotically beneath the fabric of her undergarment. Her hips shift, her legs quiver, and her mouth hums muffled tones of desperate pleasure between the gags and sucks. The sounds coming from her would be screams of delight were her mouth not occupied, but as they are, they sound like the pleading tones of a gagged captive. I push my fingers inside myself, and gasp.

“Don’t you fucking stop, Laurie,” Tom growls as he holds his sister against his pelvis, her body writhing in pleasure and discomfort, “take me in like the little whore you are.”

Laurie seems to melt in the degradation of his words. Her back arches, her legs spread, and her skirt hikes past her hips. She glances at me from the bottom of her eyes, and pushes her panties to the side before giving me a little wink. She forks her fingers about her dripping pussy lips, and spreads them wide as she defiles herself in front of me. I push my fingers deeper into myself, and furiously work my thumb along my clit as I watch her. So, this is who she really is. You never really know someone until you take them to bed, and now I know who Tom and Laurie truly are. Tom is a controlling, borderline abusive lover, and Laurie is a submissive masochist. Interesting.

Tom finally pulls out of his sister, and Laurie reels forward in a chorus of grateful, desperate breaths. Tom grabs her by the hair and rips her head backward. Her face is flushed, streaked with eyeliner, and wet with strained tears, but when he pulls her hair, her smile is devious, bright and lustful. An animalistic laugh that almost sounds like a growl flows from her lecherous lips, and brother and sister kiss in hedonistic passion; their mouths devouring each other as their bodies press.

“Audrie,” Toms says looking down at Laurie, and then over at me, “do you still want to just watch?”

“I’m just a spectator,” I smile, my words mingling with a moan as I touch myself, “don’t let me interrupt you.”

“Well then,” Tom says and pulls Laurie back by the hips, “what do you want me to do to her?”

“We want to know what makes you tick, Audrie,” Laurie smiles at me, her expression a disheveled mess of frayed hair and smeared makeup, “we want to know the real Audrie.”

“Will you do anything I want?” I ask, hooking my free thumb into the waistband of my leggings and pulling them down.

“Anything,” Laurie grins crookedly, “what twisted fantasies does Audrie Baker have in that head of hers?”

This is new and exciting. Not only do I have the privilege of watching siblings engage in the forbidden, but I get to dictate how they do it. I’m ashamed to say that I’ve spent a pathetic amount of time flicking the bean in front of a computer screen since marriage, and my tastes have turned voyeuristic as a result. I like participating as much as the next gal, but there’s something about watching that gives you a feeling of… power.

“Tom,” I say sweetly to my step-son, “could you hit her for me?”

Laurie gives me a shocked look, and I respond with an apologetic smile. Tom takes a grip of his sister’s curls, turns her face to him, and then slaps her hard across the cheek. Her head whips to the side as a yelp blasts from her mouth. She stares at me, touching a hand to the red print on her cheek, her eyes welling in tears, and her gaping lips quivering as shallow, rapid breaths flow between them. Then, her eyes widen in realization, and the corners of her mouth curl in an astounded smile.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” I smirk at her.

“I’ve never been hit like that,” Laurie says, the excitement edging in her voice, “oh my god…”

“I can tell you like it rough,” I say, deepening my penetration as tones of my arousal mix with my words, “now, take off your clothes, but leave the skirt on.”

Tom pulls off his shirt as Laurie begins fumbling with the buttons of her own. It’s obvious that she’s delaying on purpose, and Tom gets frustrated, and gives her what she wants. He grabs her by the neck of her collared button-up, and rips it down the middle, causing a spray of buttons to clatter against the floor. Laurie laughs gleefully as her petite breasts jiggle from her body, and the remains of her shirt fall from her dainty, bare shoulders.

“Hit her again,” I command, joining my hands together between my legs as I arch my back against the seat, “and choke her.”

Tom grabs his sister by the throat, and she returns his violence with a challenging, lustful smile. He slaps the smile off her face, and her head whips to the side. Though the mirth has left her expression, the arousal is shining from her eyes. She bites her lip, grinds her thighs together, and then faces her brother again, curling the same challenging smile across her mouth. He hits her again, and again, and again. Every slap sends her hair flailing in a bounce of coils, and her head reeling to the side, but it also prompts moans to mix with her yelps, and her thighs to grind together with increasingly desperate need. When Laurie is begging for more, and her inner thighs are soaked with the nectar of her want, I order her brother to cease the abuse.

“Now,” I say pushing three fingers from each hand inside myself, “tie her hands behind her back.”

Tom takes Laurie’s shirt, and she places her wrists together behind her. Her sapphire eyes brim with excitement, and she gives me a lip-biting smile as her brother binds her.

“I don’t like that smug look you have,” I smirk at Laurie, “Tom, gag your whore sister.”

“You do it.” Tom says as he winds his sister’s shirt into a rope. I open my mouth to object, but the cold look in his eyes stops my words against my teeth. That’s not the look of someone you say ‘no’ to. That’s the look he gives Laurie that makes her do the depraved things he desires. It’s the look that makes her love getting slapped in the face and choked. It’s a look that could make me cheat on my husband if I’m not careful; it’s not a look he inherited from his father.

“Ok, Tom,” I say as I withdraw my hands from myself, and bend forward to Laurie, “but this is as far as I’ll go; I’m a married woman, after all.”

“Of course,” Tom says, the look vanishing from his face, and the easy smile reappearing, “my hands are just full at the moment.”

I look Laurie in the eye as I hook my fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, and pull them down her legs. Strings of her juices glisten in the light and cling to the fabric, before stretching and snapping as I pull her panties further. I take them off, and smile into her blue eyes as Tom binds her wrists behind her.

“Open your mouth.” I command, and she does, the corners of her gaping lips quirking in excitement. I push the filthy panties into her mouth, and she graciously accepts them, moaning delectably as she savors the taste of herself. Tom pulls his sister’s arms back behind her, prompting Laurie to whimper a muffled tone of discomfort, and pinch her shoulders back, allowing her petite breasts to jut forward from her delicate frame. Tom finishes off the last knot, and then rests his chin on his sister’s shoulder, and looks right into my eyes.

“Ok Audrie,” he smiles his easy, panty-dropping grin, “what do you want me to do to her?”

“Hmm,” I muse, tracing my fingers down Laurie’s thighs, reveling in the control I have over her, “a filthy whore like this doesn’t deserve to be fucked in the pussy…”

I look squarely into Laurie’s eyes, and see the anticipation building behind her sapphire irises. She doesn’t want it in the pussy, does she? No, Laurie likes the depraved, and the perverse; she wants it where it hurts.

“A filthy little whore wants it in her filthy little hole, doesn’t she?” I grin at Laurie, and she nods enthusiastically.

“Tom,” I say, lying back into my arm of the couch, and sliding my hands between my legs, “fuck your little sister’s asshole.”

I expected Tom to ease her into it. I expected him to bend her over, and push in slowly until she acclimated to the pressure. That’s how every partner I ever had did it when I was feeling frisky with my backdoor, but that’s not what Tom does. Tom picks Laurie up by the thighs, swings his legs under her, and then impales his poor little sister on his cock. Her back wrenches in a curve, her head reels behind her shoulders, her abdomen tenses, and she screams a muffled tone of agonized ecstasy. Her pussy glistens with the arousal of her abuse, and her thighs quiver in their splayed positions outside of Tom’s legs. I can see the base of his thick cock wrapped in the tight, stretched rim of Laurie’s asshole, and I can see the way she’s clenching around him; she fucking loves it.

Tom grips his sister’s ass, spreading her open as his fingers sink into the supple flesh. He shifts his weight backward so that Laurie is forced to lean against his abdomen, and I’m allowed an excellent view of what he’s doing to her. He pulls out, and I see a small length of her anal flesh stretch and distend from her hole, sheathing his cock in a thin membrane of pink, glistening skin. Laurie shrieks a sobbing plea for more; her eyes wide and trembling, and her lips sucking around her panties. Tom pulls to his crease, and spreads Laurie wide enough that she gapes around him, allowing me to look inside my step daughter. I’m rubbing my clit furiously, bringing myself to the brink of orgasm, and then slowing down, wanting to come when they do.

Tom begins to fuck his sister. His drives are long and rapid, forcing every inch of himself into his sister’s widening rim as she flails to the rhythm of his lust on top of him. Her breasts jiggle and deform to her shifting momentum, her hair bounces behind her in a mess of curls, and her shoulders tense and twist as she struggles for purchase with her bound hands. Tom slides his hands from his sister’s cheeks, to her thighs, and pulls her legs back. Her flexible gymnast body bends easily for him, and her knees are soon resting beside her ears. He locks his elbows behind her knees, brings his hands behind her, and presses them together on the back of her head, forcing her to look down at what he’s doing to her. Laurie’s stifled screams rise in their pitch as she watches her brother’s cock disappear into her tight, pink hole. Tom’s hip surge upward in a relentless jackhammer of thrusts, and Laurie’s body writhes in abject pleasure, well past the point of controlling herself. She bends, curves, and shifts to his every whim, lost in the mind-breaking heat of her lust. Tom, however, is very much in control. He stares at me over his sister’s shoulder, fucking her, but watching me. His gaze is cold and controlling; wanting, but not asking. It’s as if his sister is but the tool of his message, and the message is very clear: this is what he wants to do to me. As I push my fingers into my pussy, and tease the rim of my ass with my pinkies, I realize, I want him to do it. I want to feel Laurie’s body pressed against my own, and I want to feel Tom’s raging heat inside me, but I can’t do it willingly; my conscience won’t let me. I’m a faithful wife, Tommy; if you want it, you’re going to have to take it.

SIERRA

“This is a stupid plan!” I hiss at Eleanor as we scoot into the booth of the coffee shop.

“You’re just being a pussy,” Eleanor hisses back, “it will go fine unless you chicken-out.”

“How do I look?” I ask, nervously adjusting my clothing.

“Like a dime, Sierra,” Eleanor smiles warmly, and places a comforting hand on my thigh, “he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“What if he doesn’t come?” I ask, feeling the panic rising in my chest, “What if he just goes straight to work?”

“I don’t think we have to worry about that.” Eleanor chuckles, and gestures to the opening front door. My ex-husband walks through the glass coffee shop door, looking older than I last saw him, but still every bit the man I once loved, and still do. I shrink in the booth, but Eleanor tightens her grip on my thigh, prompting me to jolt upright.

“Confidence, Sierra,” she whispers, “you’re still the hottest piece he ever had, Audrie be damned. Now, look at me and act like we’re having a conversation, and stop staring at him.”

I force myself to look at Eleanor, and we talk about nothing as Bradley goes to the counter. From the corner of my eye, I see him glance at me, and I force myself to keep my attention diverted toward the redhead in my booth. He looks away, and then does a sudden double-take. Showtime, Sierra.

“He’s walking over here,” Eleanor says, still nodding and smiling like we’re in the midst of gossip, “do not look, and do not initiate; make him make the first move.”

I can hear his footsteps approaching, and it takes every inch of my will not to turn around and look. Finally, the footsteps stop. Eleanor continues talking about nothing, and I continue to pretend to listen to her babble.

“Sierra?” Bradley’s voice says from behind me, “Sierra Townsend?”

I slowly turn my head over my shoulder, and I see him. A few more lines on his face, and a bald spot on the top of his head, but still him. Still my Bradley.

“Bradley?” I ask no longer having to feign my reaction, “Holy shit, Bradley?!”

“Oh my god!” Bradley exclaims, throwing his arms out to his side and nearly spilling his coffee, “Sierra, how the hell have you been?”

I practically leap from the booth and run into his arms. He embraces me like an old friend, and I have to resist embracing him like a lover. I hug him tightly, and then pull away after the appropriate amount of contact has been made.

“Goddamn,” Bradley exclaims as he looks me over, “the years have been much kinder to you then they’ve been to me!”

“You look great,” I smile, “a little less hair, but a little more muscle.” I squeeze his arm playfully, and he blushes a little.

“Yeah,” he says awkwardly, feeling the top of his head, “I tried Rogaine, but after a while, I just figured there’s no fighting father time. Unless you’re Sierra Townsend, I guess,” he laughs, gesturing broadly to me, “the ageless wonder!”

“It’s still Sierra Baker,” I chuckle, “and liberal amounts of makeup can hide many things.”

“You kept my name?” Bradley says, astounded.

“I’m a traditionalist,” I laugh, and then gesture to Eleanor, “except in some regards, I guess. Bradley, this is Eleanor O’Reilly, my fiancé.”

“Your fiancé…” Bradley trails off, looking wide-eyed at the teenage bombshell grinning in the booth, “you’re…”

“…a lesbian,” Eleanor giggles from her seated position, “yes, Mr. Baker.”

“Call me Bradley.” Bradley says, still baffled at what he’s looking at. Eleanor extends a hand to him, and he shakes himself from his stupor, and grasps it, “Nice to meet you.”

“Care to sit down?” I ask him, gesturing to the booth, “Or are we holding you up?”

“I’ve got work in fifteen minutes, but those bastards owe me weeks of vacation time,” Bradley says, finally regaining his smile, “we got some catching up to do, don’t we?”

“We certainly do.” I laugh, and sit down next to my ‘fiancé.’ Bradley scoots into the booth, keeping a respectful distance from the two of us. He gives Eleanor a studious once-over, and then smiles the same easy smile his children wear.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Miss,” Bradley says in a joking tone, “can I see your drivers license? You don’t look old enough to be in this establishment.”

“Bradley!” I laugh in mock embarrassment.

“We get that all the time,” Eleanor chuckles to Bradley, “I am old enough to marry, but a year shy of ordering my own beer.”

“Holy hell,” Bradley says, “good for you, Sierra.”

“Thank you, Bradley,” I smile widely, and then gesture to the ring on his finger, “I see you’ve found someone too.”

“Yeah,” Bradley says, unconsciously twisting the ring, “I can’t really fault you for marrying a younger woman, seeing as I did the exact same thing with Audrie. You know,” Bradley says, his smile disappearing as he looks at me, “it makes a lot of sense now.”

“What?” I ask, feeling my smile fade.

“How we ended up,” Bradley says, and then nods to Eleanor, “and who you really are; it makes sense. You should’ve told me, Sierra, I would have understood.”

“We don’t need to dig up the past,” I say, and entwine my fingers with Eleanor’s, “just leave it buried; we’re both better off for it.”

Bradley looks long and hard at me, years of words flowing from his eyes. His expression softens, and he slaps the table in conciliation.

“You’re right,” he says, his smile back on his lips, “it’s buried. So, how have the kids been?”

“I was hoping you’d be able to tell me yourself,” I say, raising an eyebrow, “seeing as how I dropped them off at your house, and someone let them in.”

“You did?!” Bradley exclaims, and then pulls out his phone, “I didn’t get any messages from Audrie about it.”

“They wanted to surprise you,” I smile ruefully, “and it looks like I ruined it.”

“Jesus H. Christ, Sierra!” Bradley nearly shouts, “I haven’t seen them in ten years, and you just drop them off?!”

“There’s no bad blood,” I say, grasping his hand in a consoling nature, “they understand things just didn’t work out, and now that they’re old enough to make their own decisions, they decided they wanted to reconnect with you.”

Bradley’s panicked expression stays on his face a moment longer, and then relaxes into a crestfallen frown.

“You sure they don’t hate me?” Bradley asks, his words barely a mumble.

“Of course not!” I laugh, and squeeze his hand, “I made sure they got your presents every Christmas, and I made sure to tell them you loved them more than anything.”

“I don’t even know them,” Bradley mutters, still grasping my hand, “my own children are strangers to me.”

“Well,” I say, and place my other hand on top of his, “why don’t you fix that?”

Bradley stares at the table for a while, deep in thought. His jaw muscles work like they always do when he’s thinking, and his brow furrows in the same contemplative manner. Suddenly, his eyes light up, and a broad grin stretches across his face.

“You know what?” he says, squeezing my hand a final time before pulling it away, “Let’s go!”

“All of us?” I ask with false alarm in my voice, “Bradley, surely you can’t-”

“All of us!” Bradley says firmly, and slaps the table again, “You’ll love Audrie, Sierra,” and then his smile grows wicked, “you just keep your hands off her, OK?”

“Bradley!” I exclaim in mock embarrassment, and pull Eleanor close to me.

“You keep your eyes on this one, Ellie,” Bradley grins as he stands up, gesturing to me, “I don’t care which way she swings, Sierra is a hard one to tie down.”

“Really?” Eleanor smirks at Bradley, and then runs a possessive hand up my thigh, “Because I found her quite easy to… tie down.”

“Ellie,” I giggle, tracing a thumb along her red lips, “you’re embarrassing me.”

“C’mon, lovebirds,” Bradley laughs jovially, “we better get home fast; I don’t trust Audrie alone with my kids for a second. She’s probably got them high as a kite and campaigning for Bernie Sanders already!”

“Sure, they are,” Ellie giggles, and then shows me a picture sent from Laurie, “what crazy kids.”

Displayed in crystal-clear detail on Eleanor’s iPhone, is Audrie Baker: her breasts squished together and pulled from the ripped neckline of her UCLA shirt, her own panties stuffed in her mouth, and my son’s cock seven inches up her perfect, tan ass. I share a grin with Eleanor, and feel the anticipatory wetness between my legs. I cannot wait for this family reunion.

TOM

I can tell by the way Audrie is looking at me, that she wants it; she wants it bad. Not only does she want it, she wants it like Laurie’s getting it. Audrie lies on the other arm of the couch, her black leggings pulled past her knees, her thick, tan thighs splayed open for me, and her fingers defiling her sanctity in both holes. She’s moaning, stretching wantonly, and staring her grey irises from the tops of her half-lidded eyes. Three fingers from each hand glisten with her juices inside her impossibly tight slit, while her pinkies push deeply into her taught, pink rim. I growl, and push Laurie’s head forward, forcing her to watch as I ravage her. She’s writhing on top of me, desperately trying to break her hands from her binds, while still reveling in the nature of her captivity. She manages to spit the panties from her mouth, and her unrelenting ecstasy carries from her voice and echoes through the house.

“Oh god,” she screeches, her voice tearful in shaking pleasure, “Tom, I’m coming!”

“Come for me, Laurie,” Audrie moans, her knuckles whitening as she presses her fingers deeper, “come like the little anal slut you are.”

I release Laurie from her headlock, and her back springs into a violent arch of concavity. I grip her by the supple fat of her ass as she grinds her hips into my pelvis, fucking herself as I pound mercilessly into her. She screams wanton pleasure and twists on me; her rectum rotating about my cock as she clenches with every muscle inside her. She’s spasming and convulsing on the inside, and her inner pleasure is reflected by the lithe motion of her toned back. Her legs shoot to the side, pivot on the cushions, and drive heel-first as her entire bodies stiffens. Her bound hands press hard into my chest, her neck striates with tension, and her mouth echoes a final, pleading tone of euphoria. She comes like a fountain; showering the couch and Audrie in the nectar of her lust. She continues to drive onto my cock, and her clenching anus almost makes me lose it, but I manage to hold fast. I pound the last of myself into her, and her shrill tones subside to panting, breathy whimpers. She collapses on me; her warm body slick against mine, her disheveled hair tickling my face, and her dainty form shivering in the echoes of her pleasure. The weak, nearly mournful sounds of her satisfaction leak into my ear, and almost quell the animal inside me. Almost. I reach behind her, undo her binds, and whisper lovingly into my sister’s ear.

“Laurie,” I say so that only she can hear it, “Audrie wants it, but I think she’s going to make us take it from her.”

I glance over Laurie’s shoulder, and see Audrie. She’s stopped touching herself, and is sitting expectantly with her hands resting against her inner thighs. Her mouth is slightly parted and breathing shallowly, her white top is stained with my sister’s love, and her eyes are watching us with a calculating, anticipating expression. She’s waiting; waiting for the chase to begin. I lean into my sister, and press my lips against her ear.

“Go get her, Tiger.” I whisper, and Laurie does. She pounces from me with the sinuous athleticism only a gymnast has, and is on Audrie in an instant. Audrie attempts to roll away at the last second, but only manages to get to her stomach before Laurie is on top of her.

“What are you doing?!” Audrie screams, “I said I only wanted to watch!”

“We both know that’s bullshit,” Laurie laughs, subduing Audrie’s hands behind her, “but you’re just too ‘faithful’ to Daddy to admit you want it in the ass from your step-son.”

I get up from my seated position and walk over as the two women wrestle. Laurie has strength and flexibility, but Audrie as size. She rolls off the couch, and Laurie is flung from her back and onto the floor. Audrie scrambles to her hands and knees, but her pulled-down leggings act as a bind about her thighs, and she stumbles forward. I pick her up by the armpits, and throw her on the couch. She lands in a splayed mess of arms and legs, and kicks at me as I approach her. Her expression is combative and fearful, but I see the desire brimming in her grey eyes. I catch a flailing foot in my hand, push it to the side, catch another one aimed at my crotch, push it to the other side, and then tower over my step-mom, my hips wedged between her spread thighs.

“Are we going to keep doing this?” I smile down at her. The mask of defiance almost falls from her face, but she manages to keep it up for another display of fearful scorn.

“You’re a rapist piece of shit,” she spits, her words biting, and then she looks at Laurie, “and you’re a brother-fucking whore. You know, instead of going to UCLA, I think Alabama might suit you better.”

“Roll Tide,” Laurie giggles, and then slides her body next to Audrie’s, “we’ll see how long you can pretend you don’t want it.”

I step over the bridge of leggings stretching between Audrie’s thighs, and she doesn’t try to stop me. She looks up at me from the tops of her eyes, and the lust is etched into them like a chisel through stone. Laurie grasps the neckline of Audrie’s tank, and pulls it roughly down. Audrie gasps in alarm as her breasts jiggle freely from their constraints. It’s the best rack I’ve ever seen; perfectly formed domes slope without a space between them, and are adorned with perky, pink nipples surrounded by small, dark areolas.

“Holy shit, Audrie,” Laurie whispers appraisingly as she looks them over, “why were you hiding these from us?”

“Get away from me.” Audrie hisses, but Laurie just giggles. She takes a breast in her hand, and squeezes until the supple flesh protrudes from her fingers. Audrie whimpers in halfhearted protest, and Laurie giggles once again, before taking the nipple in her mouth. She sucks hedonistically; slurping tones permeating from her wet lips as she stares intently at her step-mom. Audrie bites her lip in concentration, and hums a desperate, pleading sound that finally turns into a moan. Laurie’s girlish laugh echoes from her sucking lips as Audrie’s head tilts back in shameful pleasure. I reach down, and pull the stretched leggings past Audrie’s ankles. She murmurs her reluctance, but doesn’t try to fight me. She’s losing the will to keep up the façade, and is beginning to surrender like she always wanted to. I plant a foot on the cushion adjacent to her left thigh, and push my pelvis forward.

“Anything that gets close to my mouth is getting bitten off.” Audrie snaps at me.

“Really?” I smile, “I think I’ll take that gamble.”

I push my pelvis forward, and watch as the tip of my cock presses against Audrie’s lips. She inhale’s sharply, and parts her lips just a bit, before regaining control of herself, and turning her head away.

“Laurie,” I smile to my nursing sister, “do you think you can make Audrie open her mouth?”

“I think I can.” Laurie smirks at Audrie, and pushes her fingers into the blonde woman’s slit. Audrie gasps, and I thrust. She doesn’t bite me. No, Audrie takes me into her mouth with warm, wet tenderness. Her luscious lips wrap covetously about my girth, and her tongue slinks delicately along the underside of my cock. From the outside, she’s looking at me with eyes full of hate, but from the inside, she’s savoring every little bump and vein of my manhood. I push deeper, watching as my cock disappears into her defiant face. She somehow looks even more attractive this way; her eyes glaring insolence, but her mouth whorishly contradicting them. Laurie pushes three fingers inside Audrie’s slit, and works her thumb in circles about her clit. She smiles knowingly as Audrie’s eyes lose their edge, and the lids that top them begin to close in blissful satisfaction.

“That’s right,” Laurie whispers as she pleasures her step-mom, “that’s the real Audrie, isn’t it?”

Audrie hums a tone of surrendered acceptance; the last of her defiance faltering as she consumes the final inch of my cock. Her nose presses against my pelvis, and she holds me there as her lips rotate. She withdraws, and a sheen of her saliva coats me. She stops at the head, rotates again, and then takes me in. I begin to thrust harder, and she begins to suck with more passion. She takes my brutality as a challenge, and rises to meet me. She doesn’t gag once; she constricts her throat around me as I burrow down it, and puffs her lips against me as I push all the way in. Faster and faster I thrust into her throat, and though lewd gurgles rise from her mouth, and saliva froths from her lips, she consumes me with ease. I thrust a final time, holding her hard against my base, and she hums a yearning tone of pleasure about me. She reaches behind me, and grips my ass tightly with both hands, trying to push me even deeper. I almost lose control of myself, and I have to pull out of her.

“You can’t handle me, Tommy-boy,” Audrie grins, “you should just give up.”

“I just needed you to get it wet,” I smile, “I don’t want to go in dry.”

“You’re quite the gentleman for a rapist piece of shit.” Audrie smirks.

“We still doing this?” I groan, “Are you going to make me fight you over everything?”

“Nothing gotten easy was ever worth getting.” Audrie smiles, moans of pleasure flowing from her lips as my sister burrows her fingers deeper.

“Fine then,” I say, “we’ll do it the hard way.”

My hand shoots forward and wraps around Audrie’s throat. She lets out a whimper of excitement and fear, and I drag her body upward by the neck. Her heels thrash beneath her until she finally plants them on the cushions, and then I make my move. I grab her by the hips, spin her around, and push my kneecap into the back of her left knee. Her legs bend, her hips shift backward, and her chin rests on the top of the couch. I wait for her to send a kick into my groin, or an elbow to my face, but she doesn’t move. She stays bent over; her upper body pressing against the couch, her ample breasts squishing from the sides of her frame, her back flexed in its arch, and one side of her face resting on the upholstery. I wait for another moment, and then watch as her elegant hands leave their resting places on the cushions, slink behind her, and grip her supple, tan cheeks. She spreads herself, revealing the puckered center of her rim, and the dripping slit of her small-lipped pussy. Her face turns to give me a final look backward, and I see the ravenous want written across it. It’s a needful, pleading expression of big, grey eyes that shimmer with innocent vulnerability, a furrowed brow that draws lines across her forehead, and parted lips that tremble with anticipatory breaths. I level my cock against the spoked dot of her ass, and push in.

God, she’s tight. The pink circle of her opening whitens as is stretches, and the line of her spokes smooth as she expands. Audrie growls a low, escalating tone, and the muscles of her lower back flex. I push her resistances inward, and the tight, glistening flesh about her rim bows inwardly with them, stretching her taint into an indentation about my advance. I push harder, and Audrie’s growl grows louder, and higher, until I finally break through. Her rim slides back along my girth, and Audrie’s head reels up, her spine arching and her glutes slamming together about me. She lets out a cry of abject pleasure as inch after inch of me disappears inside her ass. Her tight reaches envelope about me, embrace me in their sinful hold. The soft heat of her insides pulse with pleasured contractions, and give way to me in a constricting coil of deepening tension. I reach my base, and Audrie’s supple, soft cheeks press against my pelvis. Her cry strains her throat until it becomes a sob of pure satisfaction. She looks back at me; her eyebrows furrowed, her grey eyes glistening, and her parted lips quivering.

“Rape me,” she whispers, her voice dripping with lust, “rape me like I deserve to be raped.”

I grip her by the hips, pull out, and smash back into her. Her ass ripples upon the impact, and her insides seize about me in convulsions of pain and pleasure. Her head flies back, and the curve of her spine deepens as shrieks of euphoria blast from her gaping lips. I smack her viciously across the ass, punishing her for making me work so hard for my prize. Her shoulders pinch back, and a shiver ratchets up her spine. I feel her clench around me harder than ever before, so I hit her again, and again and again, until the tan, clear skin of her backside becomes a mosaic of red hand prints. She cries out with each hit, creating a perverse rhythm to our brutal lust; the smack of palm on flesh, the scream of pain and pleasure, the impact of pelvis to glutes, and the trailing moan that follows. Laurie walks behind the couch, Audrie’s panties in her hands.

“You left these on the floor,” she sniggers as she raises the soaked fabric, “what a slob you are. Do you think you need to be punished for it?”

Audrie nods her head submissively, and opens her mouth. Laurie grins as she forces the panties inside, and Audrie hums a pathetic tone of approval.

“I think you look much prettier like this,” Laurie runs a hand through Audrie’s flailing, platinum hair, “a slut in her natural state.”

Audrie squirms in delight as Laurie degrades her, and I see her juices running freely down her thigh. She slinks a hand through her legs, and continues the masturbation we so rudely interrupted before.

“You know,” Laurie says, smiling inches away from Audrie’s face, “you’re not the first woman we did this to.”

Laurie climbs up on the back of the couch, so that her thighs separate at Audrie’s chin. She lovingly pets the woman’s hair as I brutally drive my cock into her ass.

“Though the last woman was much more… willing than you were.” Laurie snickers, running her hands through Audrie’s fine strands, “You have something in common with that woman, would you like to guess what it is?”

Audrie obviously can’t respond, and in her mental state, I doubt she could have even if she wasn’t gagged. She’s screaming muffled ecstasy from around her panties, and driving her hips back against me as I slap her to the beat of my thrusts. Every pull of my cock causes her pelvic floor to stretch from her body, and every time that happens, Audrie’s knees give out in pleasure. She’s losing her mind; her eyes are rolled back, and spit is leaking from her stuffed mouth. She is nothing but the singular focus of her lust, but something tells me that what Laurie has to say might just knock her out of it.

“The last woman we did this to, was also married to Bradley Baker,” Laurie smiles, “and he’s only had two wives.”

Audrie’s rolled-back eyes dart forward, and widen. She tries to say something from around her gagged mouth, but no words come out. I placate her mental discomfort with the motion of my hips, and she soon relaxes, and falls back under my overbearing control; whimpering softly as she lurches in the prison of her self-designed rape.

“What a pretty picture that is,” Laurie laughs, “I think I’ll capture it. Say ‘cheese,’ Audrie.”

Laurie snaps a picture of the lust-drunk woman, and Audrie is too lost in her perverse fugue state to react. Laure smiles over to me, shows me who the picture is addressed to, and clicks ‘send.’ She immediately gets a message back, and her eyes widen in excitement.

“Guess what, Audrie,” Laurie smiles, “we’re about to have a family reunion.”

AUDRIE

It’s a rare thing to get what you want, exactly how you want it. My ass cheeks are numbed from the relentless slaps of my step son, but the blows still send delightful stings into my depths. My asshole is a stretched, gaping ruin, but it still clenches and coils around Tom as he advances, making him break me open for each ferocious thrust. My mouth is filled with the flavor of my own perverse filth, but it still sucks with ravenous want as I taste myself from the fabric of my panties. I’ve always had a rape fantasy, but never the correct partner to act it out; now I have two.

Tom is fucking me so hard that my body is being pushed into the back of the couch. My spine is curved unnaturally; my ass perked upward and spread to accommodate my step-son, while my torso is pressed mercilessly upright into the cushions. My hands are splayed open and pushing hard at my sides; my wrists aching in their bent state as my arms strain to keep myself from breaking in half. My breasts are squished and deformed against the cushions, and my nipples are being dragged mercilessly along the abrasive fabric. My chin rests on the top of the furniture, and my vision is filled with Laurie’s glistening, tight pussy. Her lips are flushed and wet, and her slit is oozing with the secretion of her arousal. She tousles my hair playfully as she degrades me, and I revel in her verbal abuse. Yes Laurie, I am an anal whore who likes getting raped. Yes Laurie, I love having my step-son’s cock in my ass. Yes Laurie, I deserve this; this is exactly what I want. Yes Laurie, I’d absolutely love to meet your mother. She shows me the picture she took; my eyes rolled back, my panties stuffed into my leaking mouth, and my tan, fit body a ruin of handprints, sweat, and gaping holes. I make a mental note to ask her for a copy of the picture; this is a day I’m going to want to remember.

“Guess what, Audrie,” she says, “we’re about to have a family reunion.”

I look up at her from the tops of my eyes, my sight glazed with tears of strain and pleasure. What did she mean by that? It doesn’t matter; all that matters is the feeling inside me. The churning, quaking pressure building in my depths, compelling me to push back against Tom as he rapes my asshole, compelling me to scream muffled euphoria from my disgraceful gag. I grind my ass into his pelvis as we make contact, and my eyes roll into my head as I feel his cock pierce me in deeper, virgin territory.

“Audrie,” Laurie giggles, removing the panties from my mouth, “Bradley is coming home right now. He’s going to walk in on us.”

“I don’t care,” I gasp, feeling my pelvic floor distend from my body, “(gaaaAAH!) let him (Ah!) see us.”

“My, my,” Laurie laughs gaily, “what a faithful wife you are.”

“I want him to see,” I moan, my words interrupted by my pleasure, “I (hnnGGG!) want him to see (aaaAAAH!) how I like it.”

“You know what I want?” Laurie whispers, her lips quirked in a devious smile, “I want you to watch me get double-penetrated by my dad and brother.”

“I want to watch you,” I whisper back, staring submissively up at her from the tops of my eyes, “please (fuck!) let them do it (AAAAAH!) to me when you’re done.”

“Maybe…” Laurie trails off, her lips parted and smiling, her eyes staring expectantly at my moaning mouth, “but you have to earn it, Audrie.”

I don’t need any instruction. I wait for Tom to pull back for his next thrust, and then lurch forward with his drive, allowing his momentum to carry me upward. I’m dragged along the fabric of the couch, until my breasts pop free from the top of it. I grab Laurie by the glutes as I ascend, and pull her pelvis to my face. My lips mush against her tender, moist petals, and my tongue slides between them. I taste the sweet nectar of her slit, and translate all the pleasure of my fierce sodomy into the passion of my lewd kiss. I moan as I lick her insides, and drag her ass closer to me so that I can feel her deeper. She pushes her hands against the back of my head, arches her spine, and grinds on my face in a lustful dance. Her moans mingle with my stifled screams, and Tom begins to vocalize his own ascension. From outside, I hear the sound of car doors slamming, and the beep of them being locked remotely. I hear the laughter of two women and a man as they walk up the steps. I recognize the voice of the man, but the women are strangers to me. I don’t stop backing my ass into Tom, and I don’t stop licking Laurie; the idea of Bradley seeing me like this turns me on even more. I wrap my lips around my step-daughter’s labia, and pull gently backward, stretching her tender petals from her slit. She grins down at me, excitement written across her face, and I smile back with her fleshy erogeneity leaking in my mouth. I hear the door unlatch, and my heart skips a beat.

Part Two: Reconnecting with Daddy

BRADLEY

“…trust me,” I laugh as I escort the two beautiful women to the front door, “Audrie will absolutely love you. She’ll probably try to impress you because you’re a lesbian and she’ll want to show how progressive she is.”

“She sounds like a lovely woman,”