I recommend readers to start with 'End of the Line', the first part of this story.
*
As I lay in Irene's embrace, for I had discovered that that was her name, her daughter came in. About my age, she was a younger version of her mother. Not over slim and with full breasts and a rounded arse, at least, that was what I could make out of her shape under her clothes, and from my angle of view.
"Well mother" she said, "this looks like a nice specimen that you've brought home for us this evening."
"I think that it's for more than this evening, Helen" she replied.
Realising where this was headed I asked if I could again phone home to tell my parents that I wouldn't be home and was staying overnight with friends and then I returned to my former position in the couch, resting my head on Irene's breast and stroking her inner thigh.
Helen had left the room by the time I came back from phoning and now reentered wearing only a T shirt which showed off her protruding nipples and barely covered her crotch.
She knelt on the floor in front of me, rested her breasts on my knees and started to stroke my prick, softly and slowly at first but soon, picking up speed and effort.
My hips began involuntarily to rise and fall in rhythm with her ministrations and presently, she bent over and kissed the tip of my prick, taking a drop of pre-cum that had emerged and wetting her lips with it.
Then Irene stretched towards her and licked the taste of it from her. It was one of the most erotic sights I could have imagined.
Irene lay back again and I reached out and cupped one of Helen's breasts, rubbing the nipple.