Watching my husband cleaning, caressing my dad's gear, my body was gaining heat. My skin flushed as he licked at his solid tool with broad strokes from his tongue. When he reached the tip he gobbled it down little by little into his mouth. Sensations pulsed through my clit down along my sweet soft prickkisser as I watched them. It was if Dad let out a moan for the both of us. He was genuinely liking this. I had never seen him so full of surrender. Almost lost. Robert released him and pulled one hairy globe of his nutsack into his mouth like a Tootsie Pop. My dad obviously enjoyed this, too. His grip tightened on his shoulders. My husband then suckled on the other and then nuzzled deep to the hilt of his staff under his balls. My dad spread his legs to allow him access. I felt myself opening with him. I was ripe and I could smell it. As if coming up slowly for air from an exotic subterranean realm, Robert calmly requested, "Why don't you come sit on my lap while I do this, Babe?"
In retrospect I wonder - as well as anyone may - what moved me to hike up my skirt and lower myself on my husband's prick while he was giving my dad a blowjob. Two hours before that I would've laughed myself silly over the absurdity of the idea. But that was then. You know, for one, I was in heat like a fucking wildcat. Nothing intellectual, just pure animalism. My primitive cunt needed attention. Sure, I could have whipped her into a little bit of shape if I'd continued fingering myself, but I wanted a real man in me. Given, my husband may not be your fairy tale straight guy. However, he's got a lot more spunk and balls than other men I've met. I decided I was much more interested in keeping him than losing him. Second, as to closing in on my dad's baby-maker, well, I have to say that it was looking mighty virile, too. This fucker was in his zone, if you get what I mean. Blood or no blood, he was hot. Plus, he was and is my friend. We rarely do this or that just because we're related. To keep this short, I'm sure as hell able to make the call as to with whom I hit the sack. So I obliged and straddled his lap.
And my husband's cock felt real fucking good, ladies and gentlemen.
He was sweet, too, as he dropped my dad's dripping cock from his mouth and gave me a sloppy kiss. He was high on this like we were. Dazed. And then he turned just as quickly back to his service. With his left hand he held me at the small of my back. That was enough direction for me; I knew how to work a hard dick. I gave him space to suck as I gyrated my hips against his hardness. The bulb was hitting me at the right angle. Spasms shot through my cunt. I finely tweaked my good friend, the button, with my thumb and middle finger as I fucked him. This was nice. Time with him, him and myself. Robert interrupted me, though. "Wanna taste?" This was new. And I don't think he understood what he was asking. Dad did, however, because he looked me straight in the eye. This was a dare I had to take. I opened mouth to taste my father's cock for the first time, syrupy and wet from my husband's spit and Dad's precum. Fuck, it was throbbing and alive. I invited him to enter. Rocking on Robert's horn, I quickened my pace. Blood of my blood. Dad's sex was full in my mouth. The smell of it consumed and intoxicated me. I was lifting off. "That's it. You like that? You needed it, too, didn't you?" my husband rightfully assumed. With my dad's cock sliding in and out of my mouth, I was riding Robert's long probe deep into my chamber. He kept hitting the sweet spot with his dome. And the bushy frizz around the base of his prick rubbed against my clit. Aw, fuck, sometimes two holes are better than one. Especially when they're filled so complete. The friction on my lips took me over the top. My nipples and my skin were being stroked by my husband's hairy body, my dad's hair legs. I was all caught up between them. All of a sudden I was cumming full force just like the bitch in heat I wanted to be. And hungry for much more.
Hands down, I was in my own world by now. My box was sending so many electric impulses through my body that I couldn't have told you my name. I was alive, though. Super alive. This may have been how the Bride of Frankenstein had felt if she had had a sunnier personality. A new me was being born. Someone who takes a dare and learns from it. I was wrong about Robert and my father. So the fuck what. Time to get my juice flowing in the right direction. I loved how it circulated through my body. Dad must've noticed my distraction, because he pulled his fat club out of my mouth and fed it to Robert, who immediately inhaled it to its base. Maybe he liked more what Robert had to give. Have to admit that he's the better cocksucker. He sings praises to the phallus with a helluva lot more devotion than I ever could. I could sense that he was thirsting for my dad to cum in his mouth, to feed him ambrosia. Yes, my husband clearly had a voracious appetite for seed in his belly. Fine by me. So did I. Just want it in a different place.
I started kissing Robert on his neck and chest as he sucked off my dad. I was supporting my new hero in my own way. And I massaged his cock with my warm and gripping sheath. It was almost like realizing you know how to dance. The walls of my cunt pulsed around him as slid up and down his pole. He sucked and I fucked. All three of us were in heaven for a moment. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Robert was doing something with his right hand to my dad's ass. Whatever it was, Dad was grunting like a lustful boar, his hands on Robert's head for the fast-paced skullfuck. They were both close. Dad was up his tippy toes with his head flung back, mouth open. The muscles in his legs were tense and strong like steel cables. He didn't have much space to maneuver his prick, though, because my husband had it lodged deep in his throat, his hands clenched my father's ass. Mounted on Robert's lap, I pussyhandled his locked-and-loaded cannon. Out of the depth of his belly, Dad groaned some sound unrelated to normal human vocabulary. I knew he was cumming full force, even though I would never see a drop of it. I harnessed Robert's bucking hips as he exploded into my welcoming womb. Everything in his groin throbbed against and in me. And then there was silence. That holy moment.
I laid my head on Robert's shoulder. He busied himself by gently milking the rest of the jizz out of my dad's softening dick. It sounded like he was cooing. I could smell the cum on his hot breath. My pussy was thankful for the pause and the bliss. Robert was still hard inside of me even though he had just dropped a load. And I noticed that Dad was already stiffening up again.
"Somebody here needs to get fucked. Why don't you go to our room and get some lube?" Robert was officially taking charge. Fair enough. Seems like he was the only one who knew what needed to be done in our relationship. I give him an A+ for both the idea and its execution. Also, I had been a real asshole to him. Time to make amends. With a new sense of joy I dismounted him and gave him a kiss. My pussy was a juicy delight. I felt so thankful to have it, a true storehouse of wonder. Just for fun I planted a kiss on my dad's open lips, too. Now smiling at my husband's eccentricity, I ran to our bedroom to get the lube in his nightstand. I left the purple vibrator in the drawer for another time.
With light and happy footsteps I wondered how Robert was going to convince my father to fuck another dude, much less his own son-in-law. I had no doubt that he could. All of this had become his creative work. Under his direction a silly prank had turned into a meaningful experience. My dad may be a conservative hard-ass, but in Robert's skillful hands he was becoming soft like butter.
When I came back to the room, my father was standing, knees bent, and had his ass planted in my husband's face, who hadn't moved an inch from the obviously comfortable cushioned bench at the foot of our bed. Dad's hands were spreading his own cheeks out so that Robert could get to his hole. It was kind of funny; Robert was still wearing the blindfold. I had stopped caring if he knew it was my dad he was rimming. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. I started to wonder if he was feeling comfortable with it, though. The darkness and its secrets. I'm sure he'd take it off when he was ready. I have to say it again: Those guys were intense together. Lovely that I could observe them without them feeling the least bit intrusive. Dad had his eyes closed most of the time anyway. And Robert was busy pushing his tongue deep into the tender bud. I could tell he was working on a new rhythm, too. He would penetrate, pull back and swipe Dad's crack with his wide tongue from the base of his nuts all the way up to the top where the cheeks met. And then he worked with his fingers in and out of that sensitive pink hole - sometimes slow, sometimes fast - as he licked around the puckered ass lips. And then he would plunge his tongue in again. Damn, this guy knew his shit. It dawned on me that I should let him work my pussy more with his mouth when he asks.
"Hand me the lube, Carrie." Places to be, things to do. I get it, Robert. I continued to wonder why I never saw this part of him. I liked it. And gave him the tube.
His hands moved tenderly and purposefully like a doctor. I noted that my dad was whimpering now, expecting something beautiful to happen - not only with his ass, but with his whole body. Robert lubed up his own cock quickly and efficiently. He then took his time to massage the slick into and around my father's hole. He took his time fingering it, first one, then two fingers together. Both of their cocks pulsed in anticipation. Dad sunk his knees down to the floor. This was too much for him. His head dropped, his downy butt lifted for more attention. A string of precum connected his portly nozzle with the floor. Mouth open, eyes half shut, he groaned and yammered. Honestly, I didn't recognize him. He was gone. Sex nirvana, I guess. I knew, though, that Robert better hurry. Dad needed to get fucked quick.
