My busty brunette wife, clad in just her bra and panties, snored softly beside me. From down the hall, I could hear the raised voices of my son and his 20-year-old girlfriend, Millie, bickering as I drifted in and out of sleep.
When I opened my eyes, there she was -- blonde, delicate Millie, standing in the doorway in her pink pajamas, her tear-streaked cheeks catching the faint glow of the night light. I shifted slightly, propping myself up on one elbow, and she saw that I was awake. She was a cute as my niece who was the same age, with the same white manicured and pedicured nails that I'd love to spunk over.
I lay there, wearing nothing but my shorts beneath the covers, while my wife remained deep in sleep. Millie hesitated for a moment, then quietly crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. I wondered if she knew I came over her pumps and dirty underwear.
"I'd ask for a ride home," she whispered, her voice trembling, makeup running "but I know you've been drinking. He's asleep now. I just... wish he was as kind as his parents." Without waiting for a reply, she lay down beside me on the empty side of the bed, her size 6 pajama top and bottoms clinging to her slender frame.
I lay on my side, my back to my sleeping wife, just a foot away from being able to spoon Millie. The sight of her lying there, her tear-streaked, beautiful face turned slightly away, and the curve of her firm breasts beneath her pajama top within reach, had me achingly hard. The sheer, forbidden thrill of having this young thing in our bed, with my wife right beside us, felt like some wild, impossible fantasy coming to life.
Still quietly sobbing, Millie reached back and took my hand, guiding it around her waist. My pulse quickened as I took a chance, slowly sliding my hand beneath her top, following the path of her own hand. She didn't pull away -- and her soft sobs faded into trembling sighs.
The strawberry smell of her kinked shoulder length hair filled my perverted nostrils. To my surprise, she wasn't wearing a bra. The feel of her firm, perfect breasts beneath my fingertips was a delight -- warm, supple, and irresistible. She was slightly firmer, but just as sexy as my slutty niece.
Then, to my shock, I felt my wife's hand slide beneath the blanket and grasp my hard, exposed length. For a moment, I froze, unsure if she even realised Millie was lying beside us... or if she did, and simply didn't care as she pulled my leaking pre-cum prick.
I eased Millie's pajama bottoms down, helped by the subtle wriggle of her hips, until they rested around her thighs. She backed into me, pressing her warm, bare skin against mine.
To my surprise, my wife's hand trailed over Millie's milky firm ass, then took hold of my length, guiding it between Millie's soft cheeks. The electric thrill of it made my breath catch.
I held Millie close, my lips brushing over the back of her neck and the edge of her face, stealing soft, lingering kisses as she sighed beneath my touch. Licking the side of her face I began to slowly grind against her, a desperate, dry friction, while my wife pressed herself closer against my back, kissing my shoulder as she pleasured herself.
The taboo tension between all three of us for different reasons was thick, a shared, unspoken hunger blurring the lines between fantasy and reality.
Every so often, my wicked wife would slip her sticky, glistening fingers into my mouth, letting me taste her as I thrust between Millie's soft, toned ass cheeks.
My hand flicked Millie's tender little clit, guided by the trembling touch of Millie's own fingers. Her folds just like my little niece.
