Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 TITLE: The Muses.
TAGS: huge breasts, big cock, vulgar language, slut, incest (son -
mother/aunt), exhibitionism, latex and leather fetish clothing, lesbian,
strap-on.
SYNOPSIS: A designer of fetish clothing is dismayed when his three BBW
models leave his employment in the last few days before a critical catwalk
show.  He complains about his predicament to his mother and aunt, both
voluptuous women with incredibly Junoesque figures.  His mother steps into
the breach by offering the two mature women's help as stand-in models.  As
the two women get into `rehearsals for the show, they both find their
latent sexuality coming to the fore.



   DON'T LET YOUR KIDS SEE THIS!

   These stories have all been written with a very adult audience in mind.
They all have a very heavy sexual content and will contain combinations of
themes.

   If you are likely to be offended by any of the things mentioned above,
you should not read beyond this point, but immediately navigate away from
this page.

   The act of writing does not mean that the author is in any way engaged
in or complicit to acts of the nature described herein.  The act of writing
(or even reading) about deviance, perversion and degradation can be a
liberating and strangely cathartic experience, but some ostensibly sexual
behaviours are always going to be wrong.  I cannot tell you which, or why.
You have to make those determinations for yourself.  Scroll down if you
want to read this story, or navigate away if you find any of these tags
suggestive of things you really don't like.





















   The Muses:

   Part the first: More buck for the bang.

   Turning from the dishwasher and wiping her hands on the apron that
covered the denim mini-skirt stretched tight across her ass, Laura watched
her son slump into a chair at the breakfast table with some concern.

   "Sam darling, is everything OK?"

   "Not really mum.  The work-through at the studio didn't really go as
expected.  Ginny's walked out on me and the business...  this morning.  She
always was my muse, you know.  With her gone, I can't see how the new line
will be ready for the show at the end of the month.  She couldn't have
picked a worse time."

   "Oh darling, that's terrible," Laura replied, as her sister came in from
the hall, her blond hair in an untidy ponytail, and took a seat opposite
Samuel.

   The new arrival snickered, "So, the fat-assed slut with the cow-tits
finally figured out that all you really wanted was to get into her pants."

   "Oh shut up, Aunt Jessie." Sam emphasised the word `aunt' with heavy
sarcasm.  "Ginny's panties were the first thing I got into, if you must
know.  Besides, I think you've got more junk in your trunk than Ginny ever
had."

   "Now Samuel, that's enough of talk like that.  You too, Jessie.  This is
serious.  How are you going to get the show up and running without the
models and the sample photographs, Samuel?  Oh the little hussy, running
out on you like that.  Couldn't you ask around and find some other models
in time?  Surely there must be an agency that would..."

   "No mom, there's no agency that specialises in this kind of work - and
even if it was possible to find plus-sized models with the physical
dimensions needed to fill the club clothes, the lingerie collection and the
fetish stuff, they'd demand more than the business could stand.  We're
royally screwed."

   "Why can't you get ordinary models?  There must be plenty of them around
looking for work.  After all, from what I've seen of your designs, your
patrons aren't going to be looking at their faces much."

   "Auntie, I'm sure you're trying to be helpful, but all the clothing has
been made up to fit Geetha, that Australian friend of Ginny's, Ginny
herself, and her sister.  They've all gone, in one fell swoop: every
voluptuous, double D, 40-inch bubble-butted, one of them.  This show is
supposed to be my big break into the fashion design world, mom, and it's
gone." The handsome young man, his face a richtus of agonized misery
dropped his head onto arms crooked on the tabletop.  He looked for all the
world to be on the verge of tears.

   Jessie watched him thoughtfully for a few moments, and then turned her
attention on her sister as she pulled out a wheel-back chair next to her
and plumped herself down.  Her double-E tits jounced nicely under the
restraint of the cashmere sweater.

   "Jeezus, Laura, that skirt doesn't even cover your pussy, and the
panties you're almost wearing don't either.  I can see your labia.  Why do
you wear those micros?"

   Laura pulled ineffectually at the hem of her skirt, and then gave up
with a huff.  "Well, Sam thought I'd look better in a mini; he persuaded me
to try going shorter, and I have to say," she stuck out her chin a bit in
an effort to assert herself a little more, I agree with him.  I like
showing a bit more leg.  Sammy says I've got great legs."

   "And so you have, Mum," the young man said, without lifting his head. 
"I got mum some skirts and lingerie out of the last collection: the `Big
Gurrlz' stuff.  She looks great in the shorter skirts too.  Time to flaunt
it a bit, eh mum?"

   "That's right, darling.  You should try some of Sam's designs, Jessie.
They might do that same for you as they've done for me."

   "What, make me look like a prostitute?  If I want to end up looking like
a hooker, I can do that all on my own."

   Samuel's head snapped up now and he turned to his aunt, anger showing on
his face, "My clothes allow big, beautiful women to show the world the
image they've probably been hiding.  You've been wearing sweats and
tracksuit pants for so long you've probably forgotten what it is for your
legs to feel freedom.  Mom buried herself in widow's weeds for long enough,
and now she looks fantastic.  You, on the other hand, could never say the
same."

   "Sam!" said his mother, "You shouldn't be saying things like that, and
Jessie tried on one of the Lycra minis yesterday, didn't you Jessie.  Go
on, tell him."

   The reluctance to give the young man any credit flavoured her words,
"We-ll, Yes, I did try one, I suppose, but it was so tight that my hips
still feel like they were in a vice, and so stretched over my rump that it
went transparent.  A girl could never wear one of those Lycra things in
public, she'd get arrested."

   Well, I've got a newsflash for you, aunty dear; the chance to appear in
public, with their tiny tanga panties and thongs on show, is exactly why
that particular line sells so well to girls with your body-type.  I'd
imagine you could see your panties through the material too, couldn't you
mum?"

   "Well, actually dear, she wasn't wearing any," and she chuckled,
prompting her sister to brush her shoulder with a half-hearted slap.

   "Laura!  I didn't want to spoil the line of the skirt.  And I didn't
know before I put it on that it was going to turn into gauze, did I? 
Anyway, do you always take fashion advice from your son?"

   "Of course I do, silly.  He's a fashion designer - for the `Full-figure
woman too, and in case you haven't been looking, that's us."

   Jessie was almost morose, "Yeah well, wearing something Sammy tells you
to wear around the house seems...  wait a minute, Jeezus sis, you haven't
been out dressed in that skirt, have you?  Fuck, you have!"

   "Don't use such foul language, Jessie; not in my house - or in front of
your nephew.  And anyway, Samuel's taken me out to the Dante a few times,
yes, and I've worn the shiny Lycra skirt, what, twice I think.  Sammy?

   "Yes you did.  I wanted you to look nice, and you looked absolutely
amazing.  A lot of the guys couldn't take their eyes off you, and there
were some really jealous young ladies there too, at least, when it was
their dates that were drooling.  The first time, mom, you matched it with a
lacy thong, and the second, she just wore one of my multi-strap garter
belts, with sheer seamed stockings and four-inch patent mules."

   Aunt Jessie was looking sideways at her own sister, sitting looking
pleased at her son's defence of her rapidly evolving sense of risqué style
and behaviour, as if not quite able to match the account she was getting
with the image of her own ass in the skirt.  "You mean...  you didn't wear
any panties at all?"

   "Well, Samuel thought that I didn't need them, with...  with the straps
on the garter belt stretching out beneath the hem of the skirt anyway.  Sam
says that most people's attention was focused on that, and not trying to
see if I had panties on.  Sam puts big chrome snaps on the straps so that
you can't miss them.  They're supposed to show," she finished, a little
lamely, Jessie thought.

   "And exactly how often do you take your sluttily dressed mother out to
clubs commando then, Samuel?

   "Well, Ginny and I would invite her out pretty much every Friday and
Saturday, didn't we mum?" Laura smiled at her son and nodded her assent. 
We have a few drinks; dance a little.  I enjoy my mother's company, Aunt
Jessie, and she doesn't have any problem enjoying the occasional night out
on the town.  Do you mum?  She likes to dress the part, too"

   "I think I know part of the reason why Ginny and Co.  walked out on you
now, Sammy: she was fed up with having threesomes with her boyfriend's
mother!"

   Samuel started to expostulate, reconsidered for a moment, and then
grudgingly gave a realistic response.  "Oh, I don't know.  Maybe you're
right, Jessie, but the end result was coming anyway.  I'd detected a... 
well...  cooling off with Ginny.  I was just hoping she wouldn't do
anything stupid before we got the show out of the way.  Thank God we hadn't
paid them the advance." Another sigh.

   Laura suddenly sat up, as if a light bulb had gone on in a cartoon
bubble over her head.  "Wait a minute, I've got an idea..." Both sister and
son focused on her growing excitement.  "Samuel, how big did you say that
Ginny's figure was: bust, waist and hips?"

   Samuel looked quizzically at his mother for a moment, then, "The two
sisters were almost identical.  Both were a 36 double-E, 28 waist and 39
hip.  Well, bubble butt, actually.  Geetha was smaller in the bust, only a
35 double-D; bigger in the waist, at 29, and 38 in the hips.  We were
pulling Geetha's waist in with corselets and bustiers, and Ginny could
cinch in to about a 22.  She looked like an hourglass, really.  Perfect for
the lingerie stuff...  perfect." He shrugged with resignation.

   "OK, and Jess, how about you?  What are your attributes measuring these
days, sister?"

   Jessie looked startled for a spilt-second, began, "Well, still the same
as yours, I guess..." she smirked, "36 double-F, 28, 40.  Well.  Maybe a
42..." and then tailed off as realisation dawned.  "Wait a minute, you
don't seriously think that..."

   Laura cut her off abruptly, "Of course I do.  Sammy, we could do it,"
and then, as his eyes widened with incredulity, "Well, we could.  We might
be a bit of a squeeze in some of the things, but I'm sure that's half the
point, as you pointed out.  We could, Jessie...  that is, if you think
we've got...  what it takes, Samuel...  in the `looks' department too?  And
you're a 44 around your bottom, and maybe a 46."

   "Wait a minute, don't I get..."

   "Wow, mom, I think you've hit on something.  And of course you've got
the looks to carry it off, not just the figure my clothes are begging for
to show them to their max.  You're beautiful; mom, and you must know your
body has always been part of my muse too.  You're always in the back of my
head when I design stuff.  You too, aunt Jessie, if you must know." There
was a tinge of sarcasm in his voice now, but it might have gone unnoticed.
"After all, same genes, same genetic inheritance."

   "Well that's all very nice and everything, but I haven't volunteered my
services as a Big Gurrlz model just yet, so not so fast, Little Boy Blue."

   "Oh Jessie, don't spoil things.  It's a perfect solution to the problem,
and anyway, you should be used to showing off your body to people, you
did..."

   "...Eighteen months as a stripper in the Pink Pussycat, yeah, I know. 
Thanks for reminding me, sis.  But I got paid for that."

   Sam was warming to the idea very fast, "And you'd get paid for this too.
I was going to give the girls a thousand each: for the lead-in and the
show. If you two agree to take on the whole catalogue, I'd split the total
between you.  You'd get one-five, auntie; five up front and a thousand
after the show.  Of course, I'd like you to keep your options open for
future shows, if this one goes well for you.  It's always good for me to
design club clothes and fetish-wear for a real woman, not just a notional
figure."

   "OK, just say we go for this, what would we have to do: things like
rehearsals and stuff?"

   Samuel was suddenly all business and he ticked off items on his fingers
as his thoughts ran over the new plan, "OK, let's say you agree, and I
really hope you both do.  It'd be a lot for mom to cope with on her own,
the first thing would be to get Clocky and Gibbs, my seamstresses, around
here as quickly as possible with the full catalogue.  Mom, you've met them
before, right?  I'll take the van over and we'll get someone help us to
load the stuff on.  Then, we do some fittings this afternoon.  We can start
with the clothing and make any necessary changes as we go."

   His mother was nodding assent at everything, her hand on Jessie's thigh
and squeezing it occasionally as if to add emphasis to her son's words.

   "I'll bring over the accessories too.  Mum's been wearing stilettos when
we go clubbing, but you'll both need to practice in the shoes, coz some of
them are a bit radical."

   Jessie chipped in again, "And what do you mean by `radical'?"

   "Well, I went for broke for this show and got the girls some really high
heels.  Seven-inch chrome-heel Courts with a two-inch platform, six-inch
Oxfords with no platform at all, and even some pony-girl Ballet Pumps with
a nine-inch heel.  They don't have a platform either.  The supplier even
chucked in two pairs of ten-inch heeled pumps with a three inch platform,
`coz he couldn't sell them and wanted rid.  Pony-girl stuff, really."

   "Ah, nine-inch Pumps: another reason why Baby Slag walked out on you. 
She get a kick out of wearing those?"

   Sam grinned ruefully, "Well, not so's you would notice.  In fact, she
got pissed that Geetha could walk in them fine and she kept falling over.
Kept bending her knees in the Pumps to try and get her balance and falling
forwards.  We might have laughed at that, a couple of times."

   It was aunt Jessie's turn for the sarcasm, "Yeah, I guess that'll do it.
Well boy, I'm used to stilettos too.  Wore them on stage all the time, but
the Pumps are a different matter.  Unless you've already tried to walk in a
pair, sis?" The mother shook her head.  "Yeah, so we'd have to practice -
and all of this assumes that they're in the same sizes as we wear."

   Samuel responded, "Well, if your feet are the same as mom's, an eight?"
his aunt nodded once, "Yeah, well the sisters were a seven, but a big
seven, so they'll be tight, but manageable; all of them.  Does this mean
that you're going to go for it; both of you?" His eyes flashed back and
fore between the two statuesque women as they searched each other's faces.

   Jessie leaned towards her sister, their breath together, reached out a
palm to cup her sister's cheek, and her voice was almost a whisper, "Do you
really want to do this?  Really?  A lot of things are going to change, you
know?  A lot!" Her eyes flicked sideways at Samuel's, "Aren't they?"

   "We'll see.  All just ideas at this point, but I think you two would be
superb." He grinned into the pools of his aunt's doe-eyes.  "No, really.  I
think that this is fantastic.  What do you say, mom?"

   "It was my idea in the first place, wasn't it?  Of course I'll do it. 
Jessie, want to be a model?  Want to strut your stuff again, swing that
bubble butt and break some hearts?"

   Jessie's eyes were still on her nephew's, "We won't just be breaking
them, babe.  We gonna be stoppin' some and stompin' some." Her face lit
then in a smile, and she tweaked the young man's nose.  Ain't we, Sammy?"

   "Oh boy, this is awesome.  We're back in business, Big Gurrlz rocks!"
and the designer punched the air with glee.

   -----*****----

   Part the second: Dressed to Thrill.

   It was after six in the evening and Samuel was feeling like he'd had the
same erection for the last four hours.  He'd managed to get into his
bedroom and adjust his jeans and cover his potential embarrassment with a
baggier T-shirt early on, but was now beginning to believe that his cock
had set like concrete and would forever be trying to poke above the
waistband of his trousers and nestle into the pucker of his own
belly-button.

   The reasons for his exaggerated sexual excitement were currently
pirouetting on foot-high box podiums in the middle of the living room as
the seamstresses: the Goth, Clocky and the diminutive, famine-relief poster
girl, Gibbs, orbited them and made marks with triangular pieces of
chalkstone, fussing over their charges.  Samuel would occasionally
contribute an idea, orbiting in the opposite direction, but further out -
more distant from the heat of the two women who had been stripped of their
dowdy skin and were now being dipped in lust and sin.  He imagined he could
now smell their excitement: a tangy musk, like a bitch in heat.  It was
time for another change.

   Clocky wrapped the tit-cage around the mother's body and was surprised
to find that the older woman was quivering like a leaf: almost vibrating.
As she did up the straps in the back, encircling the blonde's torso above
and beneath her massive tits, the model hung her head and moaned into the
seamstress's neck.  Clocky then lifted a broad leather strap, riveted to
the middle of the underbust band, and passed it between the woman's heaving
breasts and over her shoulder, to fasten it like a bra strap to the upper
band at the back.  She repeated the exercise with the strap on the opposite
side.

   Two more straps hung loosely from silver rings fastened directly under
each heavy tit.  By tweaking the buckles to the sides and passing the black
band of leather through the cavernous cleavage to encircle the woman's
breast at its base, the assistant could begin to tighten them: alternately
pulling in on one side, checking that the flesh had not rolled painfully
under one of the silver rollers, and then switching to the other.  By the
time she'd got four notches pulled tight on either side, Laura's breasts
were beginning to take on a purple flush and seemed to be swelling.  Clocky
cinched up another notch tighter on either breast, after looking at Samuel
for assent.  `Definitely purpling now; veins beginning to snake across the
surface of each tapering melon.'

   Laura was moaning now, in pain, or ecstasy, or both.  Then, suddenly
seeming to regain a kind of consciousness, her eyes opened wide, focused on
her son and she suddenly blurted, "Is this alright darling?  Am I doing it
right?"

   The eyes were bugging wide in her son's face as he witnessed his own
mother's debasement, because that was what it was now.  There was no more
`playing at sexy dress-up'.  He knew, beyond a doubt, that he was
witnessing his mother being turned into a horny slut: one less capable of
independent thought than before he had instigated this, and subject to
whatever shame, embarrassment and ignominy he could design for her.  Sam
realised that he could fuck his own mother if he wanted to.  He looked the
other way at Jessie.  He wanted to fuck his own mother.  `Jeezus!'

   His aunt had been helped into a harness by Gibbs; one that fastened
around her waist, with straps passing in upward arcing curves around her
midriff, with smaller straps all radiating from a triangular black plate,
sitting centred on her bulging pudenda, and then back between her thighs to
buckles that hung from the waist strapping.  Gibbs had pulled hard on the
web of straps, and the black bands cut deeply into Jessie's thighs and
crotch.  Skewered onto the metal spike sprouting from the triangle, Jessie
now sported an absolutely huge, shiny, black dildo that stuck straight out
from her stomach at a right angle.  It bobbed obscenely; twisted, knobbled
veins ridging along its foot or more of length and as big around as a
baseball bat.  Sammy gulped.

   "We'll all get arrested for this, you know.  How the fuck did you ever
get away with it before?" his Aunt Jessie asked.  "We parade like this on a
catwalk and there's going to be a riot: bells, whistles and blue flashing
lights, nephew dear.  When we're all in the lock-up, who's going to fry
your bacon then?"

   "Let me worry about that," Samuel responded, somewhat curtly, wondering
what was keeping his aunt so abrasive, particularly when she'd gone along
with the idea this far.  "Besides, it's an invitation only event.  The
general public don't get through the security, and there're no
photographers allowed either.  Although I'll admit that we're pushing the
envelope with this collection.  I'm trying to find a new sense of
direction; see what people want; what will sell."

   "Well, you're certainly pushing.  Your mother doesn't seem at all
worried, anyway."

   "OK Mom, Aunt Jessie, if you could step down off the plinths and parade
this set for us...  Gibbs?  What do you think?"

   ----***---

   "OK, last one, girls.  Jessie, Laura?  You must be getting tired.  We'll
try some of the Latex, and I want to see the some of the Gummi-rubber
bodice line too, and then finish for the day.  Is that OK?"

   Jessie looked up from watching Gibbs pin the thin lace ruffle around the
bodice of an over-bust corset in black and red that barely contained her
enormous bust, and smiled.  "This is really too small for me, Sammy."

   "Yes, I know, isn't it fantastic?  You look amazing," and then seeing
her nose wrinkle, "Really.  The two of you have so much more going for you
than Ginny and Co; so much more.  Don't they, Gibbs?"

   Gibbs turned from where she had started to push on either side of the
missile shaped nose-cones, staring at the Junoesque woman's cavernous
cleavage as it lengthened under pressure and speculating about whether she
could make them stay like that.  "Yes, Sammy, they are totally wonderful.
Now look, boss, I think that I can deepen Jessie's cleavage and make her
tits pointier if I put two more rows of eyelets in here," she pushed a
finger into the lowest visible part of Jessie's gorge, "...and take the
front stays that much higher.  What do you think?"

   "Perfect, Gibb's, perfect.  We'll try a red ribbon, or a lace there
too." Gibbs was busy with her chalk again, her forehead resting against the
nose-cone of one of Jessie's missiles.  "Maybe fasten those black denim
Daisy Dukes with the same stuff.  Did you cut the crotch seam higher?  Oh
yes, I can see you did.  They really pull up into the cleft of her sex now,
don't they."

   "Indecent doesn't begin to describe them, does it?  I can feel the air
on my pussy.  Do you want me completely naked, Sam?  Will that turn you
on...  any more?" Jessie looked pointedly at her nephew's crotch and
grinned.

   "Not `...any more'," he hoped she got the emphasis he gave to those
three words.

   Samuel's mother had turned her back and bent forwards at the waist so
that Clocky could attend to the tiny plaid micro-mini skirt.  The
seamstress was in the process of marking the vent in the pleats at the back
so that she could open it an inch higher, at Sam's request.  The skirt was
so short that it completely failed to cover the mesh of Laura's panties and
the darker satin in the gusset, but her son was determined that the effect
was going to be sublimely erotic, so the hips to either side of his
mother's perfect bubble butt were things that the skirt rested on, rather
than covered.

   Neither did it cover the four broad straps of the garter belt, front and
side on each thigh, which pulled the tops of lacy stockings into peaks,
accentuating the crease beneath each buttock.  The crimped satin straps
were two inches wide and each had a big silver snap shaped like an inverted
tombstone on its end.

   Her son darted in again, "There, that's perfect, Clocky.  Mom, you look
bloody incredible.  Both of you do.  If I don't sell this collection, I'm
going to design habits for nuns."

   His mother straightened at a touch from Clocky and turned to face him,
her stockings brushing together at the tops of her legs, where the
suspenders bit into the lacy welts, "Oh Sammy, you keep telling me that. 
You'll have to find another word, darling."

   "But you are mom - and Jessie too.  Look, one more set, OK?  I want to
try some of the fetish stuff now.  And I'll warn you, this might be a bit
of a departure from your usual comfort zones...  but we'll take it easy to
begin with."

   Jessie snickered, "I think I left my own sense of comfort zone behind
about thirty minutes after you got back from the studio.  Huh, Laura?"

   "Oh I don't know.  You're all so professional; I don't feel vulnerable
or shy at all, now.  In fact, I'm beginning to get a little turned on by it
all.  Sorry, Clocky."

   Clocky was, at that very moment, watching a drool of clear fluid begin
to strand downwards from the gusset of the model's panties.  She shrugged.
It had happened before.  Well, the clothing was the height of salacious
vulgarity.  Sammy's mom was looking and beginning to behave like the
perfect BBW slut.  Clocky had seen that happen before too, but sadly, never
to herself.  `Maybe this Goth thing isn't all it's cracked up to be?  Maybe
I need to be a big-tit slut as well.  Ah well, a change is as good as a
rest - and I've been resting for long enough,' was her thought. 
Spontaneously, she reached her hand under the older woman's crotch to catch
the bead before it fell, prompting a little start of surprise, and then
massaged the sticky juice back into the material, palming the fleshy folds
of the woman's cunt apart through the gusset like a burgeoning flower and
working the sodden material into her pussy.

   "Don't want that getting on the stockings and shoes, now do we," she
whispered, so that only Laura would hear.  "I'll wash the panties tonight,
and bring you a plug tomorrow, if you want - or you can wear a tampon and
tuck the string in.  Up to you."

   "Does this happen a lot then...  to others, I mean?" Laura whispered
back.

   "More than you'd think, Laura.  More than you'd believe."

   Samuel was anxious for them to get into the last change.  `Had he said
`fetish?'

   "Mom, I want you to model the new latex girdle-skirt.  Black latex
stockings, of course, and I'd really like to see what the other crossover
tit-cage looks like on you too, but we'll leave that until tomorrow.  Let's
try the black latex over-bust peephole body stocking.  Clocky, could you
sort those things out for my mom, please?"

   "And Jessie, I want you in something a little more strappy and sinister.
I have a special line in Domme-wear I think you'd look fabulous in.  Gibbs,
could you help Jessie into the latex shorts with the belt and hem-straps,
and then fit her with the crotch-harness, please.  But first, she should
put on the high-cut swimsuit with the nipple chains.  It'll have to go on
under the shorts.  And tie her hair back.  She needs to look a little more
severe."

   "Well, ladies, time you were both in the eight-inch Court shoes with
platforms too.  It doesn't matter if you totter a bit at first.  You can
always practice walking in them over the next few days."

   His mother looked up nervously and somewhat breathless from where Clocky
was still administering to her dripping pussy.  "Oh," she said vaguely,
"Alright darling." She cocked her head on one side and spoke to her sister,
"Look, if it's alright with you, I'm going to change here.  Samuel isn't
going to be shocked.  He's seen it all before.  They all have, I dare say,"
Clocky nodded vigorously, "And I'm going to have trouble with eight-inch
heels, I just know it.  Can't I just change here, Clocky?  Sammy?"

   There was cynicism in her sister's reply.  "You're going to take all
your clothes off in front of your own son and then you're going to end up
looking like Betty Paige with your tits all poking out?  And this doesn't
bother you?"

   The mother's response was honest, "Well, no, as a matter of fact, it
doesn't.  Thanks, Clocky.  I'll take it from here." And with that, the
beautiful woman rolled the sopping panties down over the globes of her
magnificent ass, passed them carefully over the snaps on the garter belt
and shucked them off.

   While the seamstress immediately snatched the gauzy prize up and stood
with the panties dangling idly from a hand that rested on her own cheek,
appearing to inhale deeply, Laura straightened and began to work at the
belt on the skirt; her shaven cleft glistening as she moved.  Both Samuel
and Jessie gasped in unison, then flashed a glance at each other.

   Jessie's words were meant for Laura, but she didn't take her eyes of her
nephew's, "Laura, every time I think you've shocked me for the last time,
you go right ahead and do it again, don't you sister.  Now you're going to
make me feel like a turd in a swimming pool if I don't follow your shining
example."

   Laura's retort was sharp, "I've told you about that potty-mouth of
yours, Jess.  Sometimes, you let your mouth go too far."

   "Well, at least it's my mouth, sis.  Well, `was' now.  I think my mouth
going too far is not the problem."

   Jessie, slowly and deliberately, let her eyes pan down across her
nephew's torso until they fastened like a claw on his bulging crotch.  "Oh
yes.  You have, darlin'.  But I don't think I'll have to let it go much
further.  I'd say I'm getting close to salvation, baby," and she thrust her
own panties downwards off her own globular ass, reveling in the enormous
twitch that she saw generated in Sam's crotch when she arched her back and
thrust her naked cunt forwards.  Gibbs was startled too.

   Sam watched wide-eyed as his mother and his aunt worked themselves out
of their raunchy clothes, stood naked on their little plinths, smiling at
each other and the two assistant's, and then put on even raunchier ones.

   What amazed him, he recognised, was not so much the descent into
sluttiness that his mother and aunt were experiencing, but the incredible
perfection of their hugely over-proportioned bodies, hidden for so long
beneath the haute couture designer's equivalent of sackcloth and ashes.

   His mother's huge ass betrayed not a hint of cellulite or stretch marks
and looked firm and ripe, her breasts projecting outwards from her torso
and bouncing and jiggling with her every movement.  Aunt Jessie's titties,
if it were possible, were even more prominent, with huge chocolate saucers
surrounding thumb-sized nipples.  Her ass was a fetishist's dream, the
cheeks perfectly globular and without a dimple or imperfection of any kind.
In contrast to his own mother, aunt Jessie's crotch was shaven, to reveal a
bulging pudendum bisected by a deep pussy-slit and fleshy labia.

   "Clocky, before my mother get's into the last set, shave her pubic hair
for me, would you please?"

   -----*****----

   Part the third: House of Stacks.

   The next day, Sam was an early riser, in more senses than one.  As the
night before had reached a level of sexual tension that he could feel like
a Tesla charge in the air, his aunt Jessie had driven the two girls away
after they had helped the two older women into the outfits that he had
chosen.  Jessie had done this by leaning forwards on her towering heels,
reaching down and grabbing Gibbs by the front of her blouse, dragging the
startled girl up until she was on her pointed toes and dangling in front of
Jessie's face, and then saying: "It's time you left.  If you don't go now,
little girly, and take your cunt-sucking friend with you, I will strap on a
huge fucking dildo and rape your cute little virgin ass."

   Samuel was amazed to see that the diminutive Gibbs actually seemed to
consider the plausibility of this as an option, before his aunt released
her with a snort of disgust and dismissed her with a peremptory, "Fuck off,
the pair of you."

   They'd gone quickly after that, leaving the Junoesque women dressed like
Manga sluts.  Sam's aunt stared at him for a while, making him feel
uncomfortable enough for his boner to begin a slow and painful descent
above his swollen balls, while he pretended not to notice and watched his
mother instead.

   Laura was still admiring herself in the full-length mirrors that had
been bought in from the studio in the van, turning slowly on her low plinth
in the extremely high heels and smoothing her hands over the slick latex
that had been oiled and polished, once Clocky had got it pulled and snapped
over the mature woman's luscious curves.

   Her palms floated over the shiny rubber that seemed painted onto the
columns of her strong legs: legs that tapered upwards into heavy thighs and
the crease under her butt.  Her fingers stroked across the globes of her
ass and the mounds of her hips, fluttered into the shadowed cleft of her
sex, caressed the bulge of her pudenda, pressed briefly and deliciously on
the protruding bump of her large clitoris in the peak of the cameltoe that
the rubber thong had created, and then back across her flat stomach and up
under the shelf of her massive breasts.

   Every slow movement, every single moment, she watched in the glass,
moving her wet-dream body subtly as she did to accentuate the highlights
glinting off the latex.  She was watching a soft-core pornographic film in
which she, herself, was the star, panting forcing the udders on her chest
to heave and wobble.  The actress in the mirror could feel the fluid moving
in the crotch of the rubber thong like a slushie: a slushie made out of
molten wax, and felt a growing sense in herself of a dream now realised.

   As her son watched her, she decided to try and get more of her puffy
aureole projecting through the peepholes in the front of the body stocking
by pinching her nipples in turn, spreading the two-inch diameter holes
wider with a thumb and forefinger and working her conical peaks out slowly,
pulling from side-to-side on the teats.

   The effort made her grunt, or perhaps it was her ministrations to her
own, suddenly sensitive nipples, but she began to be rewarded, as Samuel
realised that he was standing, watching, with his mouth open and in danger
of beginning to drool.  When she dropped her hands to survey the results,
Sam's mouth shut so quickly, his teeth clicked.

   Laura had managed to pull so much of her nipples through the peepholes
that they now formed chocolaty softball-sized orbs that bobbed and jiggled
as she moved.  She turned to find out that her sister and son were watching
her, wide-eyed, and smiled at them.  "It feels nicer like this," she
explained.  Then a shiver, "Oooh, a lot better, actually." She went back to
the film in the mirror, shaking her rack up and down experimentally and
apparently entranced with the result.  Her tits began to suffuse with
blood, and then turn purple.

   Jessie stepped down off the platform and wobbled towards Sam on her
impossible heels.  As she got close, she appeared to snag a heel and fall
forwards, grabbing for Sam's support.  In an instinctive effort to catch
her, he bent at the knees and attempted to catch her around the waist, like
a rugby player, but ended up with her tits enveloping the top of his head.
The lights went out for him, but very briefly, and as she got her balance
back she started to laugh.  He was holding on to her now, his head butting
the underside of her tits.

   "Whoa there, boy.  That didn't work out quite as I'd expected." Sam
pulled himself to his feet, and they both laughed quietly, although Jessie
laid an arm across her nephew's shoulders as if for some support.  In the
heels, she was taller than he was.

   "I'm sure I remember someone saying this morning, at breakfast, if I'm
not much mistaken, that they'd have no problem with conventional stilettos,
having spent time in a former life working as a stripper."

   She leaned in towards him to say something, and her ponytail brushed his
cheek as she turned to glance at her sister.  A cloud of some kind of
summery, meadowsweet fragrance emanated from the depths of her cleavage and
intermingled with the strangely complimentary smell of warm pussy, filling
his nostrils.  He suddenly remembered a time, long ago, when they'd all
shared a picnic in an orchard; ripe apples hanging on branches with dark
dusty leaves, golden grass, and red tartan car blankets.

   "You realise that your mother is now in full porn-star queen mode, don't
you, Sammy?  I'm getting a bit turned on by the whole modeling thing
myself, and so, little boy, are you." As she said this, Jessie's free hand
reached across her nephew's sweats and stroked the bulging length of
Samuel's swollen cock from balls to glans on the outside of the material.
"Oh, Sammy, darling, maybe BIG boy would be more appropriate, huh?"

   Sam had caught his breath in a sharp intake when her hand zeroed in on
his manhood, and he had almost flinched, or worse, backed away from his
aunt, but these instincts were overruled by a more assertive and
overwhelming lust for his own flesh and blood.  "You shouldn't play with
loaded guns, aunt Jessie.  They have a tendency to go off."

   She continued rubbing her hand over the arching rod.  "Not in
experienced hands, baby," she breathed seductively in his ear.  "Watching
your own mommy fingering her dripping cunt got Sammy hard again, has it? 
Why don't you give her a nice big dildo out of that box over there and see
where she puts it?  My money's on her asshole."

   Samuel almost came right there, his painfully erect cock jerking beneath
the light pressure of his MILF auntie's hand.  He mastered the urge and
drove the waterfall back.  Sam got close to his Aunt's ear then, "Why don't
you, you dirty slut.  I can smell your cunt-juice running down your legs. I
can feel the heat of your sex, and I think you want to see your own sister
jump off the sexual precipice.  She's standing on the edge, you know.  And
while you're at it, give her a pair of cunt and tit cages from the boxes of
fetish accessories and tell her how it works.  I'm sure you can figure it
out.  Don't want them slipping out now, do we, wherever she chooses to put
them?"

   His aunt turned with a smile flashing like a hungry vampire.  "Them? 
Oooh, Sammy, you are a perverse one, aren't you.  Don't jerk off, big boy,"
she patted his erection, "I have plans for that."

   "Well, better save them for tomorrow, Jessie.  I'm going out."

   The young man had ignored the flash of anger in her eyes, `Or was it
frustration?' he asked himself?' ...and walked straight towards his posing
mother.

   "Mom," he called, as he got closer, "I'm going back to the studio for
some more stuff.  Clocky's got some wild ideas, now that she's seen what
you've got.  His mother turned towards him, her eyes unfocussed with sexual
and sensual overload.

   "Going out, Samuel?  But you haven't had dinner.  I haven't made..." The
mother part of her personality was swimming back to the surface, but it was
doomed.

   "Don't worry, mom, I'll get something while I'm out.  Kiss?"

   Sammy reached for her as she had to bend to meet him, and, instead of
the usual chaste peck on the cheek, he held her face between his hands and
kissed her full on the lips.  Her mouth opened slightly in surprise, and
his tongue flicked between her lips to touch the tip of her own. 
"Mmmmmmnnnnn, nice."

   As he pulled away, she felt a shock in the depths of her steaming pussy,
like something snapping.  Or it might have been her son's hands falling to
cup the underside of her tits, his thumbs and forefingers passing around
the stems of the empurpled snow-globes of her nipples.  For good measure,
he kissed the distended teats, or perhaps `briefly sucked' would be a more
appropriate word, before speaking again.

   "You two did fantastic today.  I'm so happy, mom.  You've saved my show
- and with the two of you modeling my designs, I just know we're going to
knock `em dead.  The pair of you are so beautiful, and knowing that I've
dressed you means so much." He squeezed his happiness into the bulbs,
provoking a kind of muted squeal from the mature latex slut with the huge
tits and ass.

   He'd waved casually at an open-mouthed aunt over his shoulder and
left...

   ----****---

   As Sam turned the corner into the kitchen, he stopped dead in his tracks
as if walking into a force field.  His mother stood at the sink, the
customary apron protecting her clothes from the splashes of water and
detergent, humming the tune to `Everybody wants to Rule the World'.  She'd
heard his footsteps, because she turned, smiled, and said, "There you are.
I've done you some bacon, darling, but have your cornflakes first."

   Sam's lower jaw was on the floor again.  It was spending a lot of time
there these days.  He moved slowly to the table and lowered himself into a
seat, not once taking his eyes away from the vision that his gorgeous slut
of a mother presented.  She was still wearing the Courts with the
eight-inch chromed heels, but her leather skirt was the longest one in the
collection: a full-length hobble skirt with a large oval cutout in the rear
that the globes of her bubble-butt bulged out of in mouth-wateringly
spankable fashion.  A T-bar strap ran from d-rings on either side of the
cutout, below the upper edge, and plunged between the globes of her
delicious ass to another ring on the bottom edge.
Then, six two inch-wide straps passed from one side of the crotch-high
vent to buckles on the other side, starting immediately below the cutout
ring with the last just above the heels.  Sam's mother had pulled these
almost as tight as they would go, preventing her from taking anything more
than tiny tripping steps as she moved about and causing a sort-of rasping
noise as the low denier stockings rubbed against each other for their whole
length within the confines of the skirt.  As he salivated, he wondered how

she'd managed to do them up so tight.

   Above this, she was wearing an underbust corset in black doe-leather
with steel boning and a low busk that disappeared beneath the waist of the
skirt, but it was her breasts that took the young man's breath away.  Aunt
Jessie had obviously taken him at his word, as her sister was wearing one
of the tit cages that he'd been thinking about discontinuing, due to a lack
of orders.  That idea went into the mental basket.  They'd never be able to
keep up.

   His mom was wearing a harness of black straps, belts, buckles and clasps
that encaged her huge breasts.  It was as if someone had cut the material
out of the gaps between each and every seam, hem and selvage on a giant
bra. Again, the buckles had been drawn in very tight.  The ones that
encircled his mother's bouncing udders at their union with her body had
been pulled in so tight that both breasts had become further engorged with
blood, the flesh ballooning into the restrictive strapping.  Due to the
constriction and building pressure, the pointed orbs had turned a blotchy
red that deepened to the same purple as bruising in places.  Her nipples
had swollen enormously and were now chocolate dark.  She seemed
unconcerned. Sam was feeling his cock begin to tent the front of his jeans.

   " Mom, are you sure you haven't got those cinches a little tight: the
ones at the base of your breasts?"

   "No, darling, they feel fine." She took some tottering baby steps and
beamed at him again.  "I'm so proud of my son.  Every time I look in the
mirror...  and I'll admit, I can't stop looking, I wonder at your
creativity, dear.  You are so clever, designing things that make old women
look beautiful.  I know a bit more of your old mum is on display than
usual, but you've seen it all before." She tittered, and watching her
torpedo mammaries jiggle and shake in sympathy, he thought he knew where
the term `tittered' had come from.

   "You're not old, mom.  Goodness, you've just turned forty...  God, my
clothes look so much better on you than they ever did on any of the
others," he said.  Ginny was a rapidly fading memory.

   "Thank you, darling.  With that, his mom turned back to the sink and
bent to retrieve something from the cupboards next to the sink, which,
given the restriction of the strapping on the hobble skirt and the pipestem
of the corset, meant that she had to keep her knees locked straight and
pretty much bend awkwardly at the waist.

   Sam was fixated on his mother's huge buttocks as they mooned obscenely
out of the cutout and separated on either side of the T-bar.  She reached
for the catch on the door, opened it, and then bent even further, her
clothing creaking with the stress of containing her amazing figure and yet
contorting in such a way.  As the cheeks of his mother's ass peeled back
like the petals of an orchid and the T-strap cut into the cleft, Samuel saw
a sparkling pink disc, now bisected by the strap and situated right where
his mother's asshole should be.

   "Oh my God, mother, you're wearing a butt plug.  One of the inflatable
ones."

   His mother, bent almost in half, could have been expected to react with
embarrassment at being discovered, but all she did was reach around her
tapering thighs with one hand and finger the visible part of the plug,
prodding it with a soft `huff' of satisfaction, and then gripping with her
fingertips and rotating it in either direction.  Satisfied that all was
well, she stood up.

   With head-smacking slowness, Sam realised that he had been meant to see
what his mother had plugged into her ass and stretching her anal ring to
the thickness of a rubber band.  She had deliberately given his a show. 
His own mother was wantonly displaying her most intimate sex to him.

   "Well, darling, you did say that we should be experimenting with the
clothing and accessories, to get comfortable with them before we wear them
in public on the catwalk, didn't you?" I'm only doing what my son, the
designer, tells me to do.  And I am, Sammy..."

   Her son felt as if he was trying to swallow organs that had no right to
be in his throat.  "Well, yes I did, but I..."

   "Darling, I'm just following instructions, and I think it's really
working.  I've never felt quite so comfortable feeling...  well, quite so
uncomfortable, if you see what I mean," she smiled briefly.  "I know I look
good.  Clocky couldn't believe that I took to it all so well last night,
and you've been saying that I look gorgeous.  Didn't you mean that?"

   The young man moved quickly to remove any uncertainty, "Mom, I am just
amazed that you have taken to this so well, that's all.  And you're right;
I wanted you to try the clothes, the shoes, everything out before the show.
Just be a bit careful, OK?  Most models take days to get accustomed to
these things.  You seem to be so much at home in them that you could have
been wearing them forever."

   She laughed, "Well, darling, I do feel so good, I might just be modeling
for you for as long as you'll let me.  Can I, Samuel?  Can mummy be your
model all the time, darling?  I'll do everything you want me to, honest. 
Just ask and mommy will do it for you.  I'll wear whatever you want me to -
or..." and she giggled again, "...whatever you don't want me to." The
`oooh' that followed this was involuntary.  "Really Sammy, I want this,
baby.  Jeeze, momma's breasts feel so good in this."

   At this point, they both heard the clicking of another pair of spiked
heels coming down the stairs, and a moment later, aunt Jessie walked (well
maybe tip-toed, was a better word), into the kitchen on a pair of six-inch
black stilettos that Samuel knew had no platform and were the most extreme
shoes in the collection apart from the pumps.  But it wasn't the shoes that
made him forget to breathe.

   His amazing aunt Jessie had poured herself into a latex bodysuit that
now looked as if it had been painted on from ankle to neck.  She was also
wearing what Sam had called `the shortest skirt in the world', a denim
ultra-mini skirt that was only four inches deep from waistband to hem.  It
started at mid-buttock and didn't finish much lower, still having the
pockets at front and back.  Sam had deliberately not had these sewn shut,
even though the cloth of the actual front pockets had been removed.  This
meant that they functioned as peephole vents, occasionally opening when the
model had bent forwards.

   Of course, the ultra-mini did nothing at all to cover the hump of her
own pussy, bulging through the crotch hole, and revealing her that she'd
pulled her labia forwards and fastened them together in front with what
appeared to be a nipple clamp with a pearl earring dangling from the clasp.
Aunty was swinging a twelve-inch, black rubber dong from one hand.

   Samuel was in awe.  His aunt's gorgeous curves, the equal of his
mother's, filled the bodysuit to bursting, but it was the combination of
the cover-all latex with the cover nothing skirt that had his mind racing.
And then, there was the miniscule detail of the pearl dangling from her
pussy lips, because it was constantly moving, even when the rest of her
fuckable body was relatively still.  The idea that his sluts were beginning
to improvise combinations of outfits that he, himself, hadn't envisioned
was a vision, and he took a mental note to follow their intuition.  They
obviously had an instinct for what made them look smoking hot in slutwear.

   "Morning, Prince Charming, I see my sister is following instructions. 
Like her in the `restricted section'?  She's a peach, isn't she..."

   With that, Jessie clicked across the tiles, took her sister's chin in
her free hand and lifted her face, leaning in and kissing her deeply,
open-mouthed.  As the sister's incestuous tongues slurped and slithered in
each other's mouths, Jessie brought up the dildo and began smacking the end
of her sister's swollen tits with the head, eliciting whorish moans which
emanated from the older sister's throat.  Sam was beginning to feel as if
he could drill into cement with his cock.

   At last, Jessie broke off the kiss, smiled into her sister's face and
said, "Good morning, slut.  Did you get your master's breakfast ready yet?
Want me to back off the tit-chokers a bit; they're getting a bit colourful?
What do you think, Sam, should I ease your mother's pain a little bit?"

   Sam wrenched his eyes from the erotic sight of his mother's swollen and
discoloured udders joggling from the repeated impact of the dildo and
smiled at his aunt.

   "Why no, Jessie, not unless mom wants you to.  She seems perfectly happy
at the moment.  She's the ultimate full-figured model," and then, trying to
appear calm and unaffected, "Come and sit next to me."

   Surprisingly, there was no witty come back from the smirking beauty, and
she dutifully did as she was told, her heels clicking until she lowered her
huge ass onto the chair next to his.  She dropped the dildo onto the table
and then her hand immediately went to his crotch.  It was her turn to gasp
as she encountered the length of cock-meat that was now poking above the
waistband of his jeans.

   "Oh nephew, you are happy that the two women in your life are rapidly
turning into street whores?  This certainly does.  I can see why you don't
wear a belt."

   She twisted the button on his fly and unzipped him.  Sammy felt almost
as if his cock drew in a breath of fresh air in celebration of its release,
and careless of his own mother's shocked expression, he pushed back on the
chair and gave his aunt full access to his aching baby-maker.  He watched
his mother's face morph from an expression of horrified shock into one of
lewd hunger.

   "Oh fuck, that's big.  You're bigger than the fucking dildo, Sammy. 
Mmmmmnn, I know where auntie's breakfast is coming from," and with that,
she lowered her face towards his pulsing cock, pushed her nose into the
piss-slit and took a deep sniff of the pre-cum, snorting the bead that she
managed to draw up with her hand like a line of cocaine and then forcing
the apple-sized head into her mouth.  As her head bobbed noisily up and
down the rod of his meat, she moved both hands onto the shaft and began to
wank him into her mouth.  He'd been on the edge for so long that he could
feel the pricking of his orgasm as soon as she got his cock into the back
of her throat and started to gag.

   To make sure he hit the spot, Samuel grabbed aunt Jessie's ponytail and
forced another inch of cock into her throat.  "Here it comes, you fucking
dirty slut." He looked up, finding has mother's unblinking gaze on the
disgusting sight of her son with his cock jerking in her own sister's mouth
and her own hands busy in her dripping snatch.  "Mom, I'm cumming in aunt
Jessie's throat.  I'm cumming mom.  Watch me slime your sister, mommy. 
Ooooh fuck.  Here it comes, slut: the first of many.  Oh yeah, there... 
See that mommy?  I'm squirting gobs of seed into your slutty sister's
gullet."

   Samuel watched his mother's hands go to her crotch, but fail to get to
her own pussy because of the hobble skirt.  They returned to pulling and
pinching on her own distended nipples; a cruel inducement to her own
orgasm, building in her dripping mommy-cunt.  "Ooooh yes, son.  Choke the
bitch.  Fuck her face, baby.  Fuck her slut face.  A hand went around one
hip and began to press the butt plug in and out of her horribly stretched
anus.  As her son's orgasm ended, hers began.

   Feeling the last gobbets of his spunk squirt and slither into his aunt's
throat, Samuel dragged her off his still-jerking cock and she sucked in a
gasp of much-needed air, then cocked her head sideways, smiled at him and
licked her lips in the most lascivious way a man could imagine.  "Well,
well, tastes good.  Somebody needed that, even more than me, but you're
still hard, baby." Her fingers continued to fly the length of his
fuckstick. "Quick, stick it in my cunt and make me cum now, honey.  Auntie
needs to cum, real bad."

   She stood still facing him, lifted a shiny black leg over his, and
positioned his cockhead below her cunt with one hand while snapping open
the clamp on her labia with the other.  As a drool of pent-up slut-juice
descended onto the quivering glans, she lowered herself onto her nephew and
slowly slid his penis into the gaping maw of her cunt.  Grunting with the
effort as her vagina stretched to accommodate the massive prick.

   "Whew," she groaned, "Slowly, baby, it's been a while since I did this,
and never with a donkey-cock like yours.  Slowly...  Are you watching this,
Laura?  Can you see my big fat ass sinking onto your little boy's cock? 
Watch me, sister.  I'm going to get it all into my hungry, steaming cunt...
ooooh."

   It might have been the frustration of the last twenty hours or so, or
maybe the sight of his beautiful aunt settling down onto his rod, or maybe
the incredible filth coming out of her mouth, or even the huge rack of
rubber coated tit flesh that was suddenly thrust into his face, but Sam
could feel his cock begin to harden again.  `Jeeze,' he thought, `her cunt
is so fucking tight, and so hot.'

   She didn't get it all that time, nor even the next, but with repeated
bounces on the column of her nephew's baby-maker, Jessie's cunthole
inexorably swallowed inch after inch of the huge dick, the man's leaking
pre-cum providing additional lubrication and her mind and body a riot of
conflicting sensations.  `This was so wrong.  This was so very right.' She
was fucking herself onto her nephew's pillar of cock-meat in the kitchen of
her sister's house, while the leather-clad slut she'd helped to dress
earlier in the morning watched her own son's glistening cock slowly
disappearing into her sister's grossly over-stretched cunt.

   Samuel felt his cock head butt into the nub of his aunt's uterus, and
she moaned in frustration as he `bottomed out'.  Hefting her tits in both
hands so that she could look back between her legs, she could see that
there were still three inches of his pole visible below her bulging cunt.
She's never felt so stuffed, nor, she suddenly realised, more determined.

   "Laura, get your slut ass over here and help me," she gasped, pushing
down hard on the invader in her pussy, and feeling the huge head pounding
into the core of her pelvis.  A patter of tripping footfalls, and Sam saw
his mother's face appear around Jessie's shoulder, her eyes wide.

   "What do you want me to do?"

   Jessie was sipping at the air and moved her hands back to place them
over her own hips.  "I've heard you can do this from my Yoga instructor,"
then she met Sam's questioning gaze.  "Ready to really fuck me up, Sammy? I
want you to push up hard when I push down, and don't back off, whatever I
do, OK?"

   "Ok, Jess." He was making little noises as she bounced on his cock, "Ah,
ah, ah, ah..."

   "Alright, girl.  Just relax,' she instructed herself, breathed deeply
in, and then `pheeeuuw', out again, then bent forwards slightly more. 
"Laura, when I squat onto Sammy's cock this time, I want you to push down
on my shoulders, all the way, hard!  Don't stop girl, whatever happens. 
Ok?"

   Samuel suddenly knew what she was attempting to do.  If he'd had any
warning at all, he was sure his cock would have wilted like a torn lettuce
leaf, but she was already forcing her whole weight down onto his cock.  He
heard his mom say, OK, felt Jessie make a conscious effort to relax, and
then the never before experienced sensation of the nub of her uterus
beginning to spread slightly over his piss-slit.  It was going in!  It
wasn't ever going in.  His cock was going to snap in half!

   `My fucking cock head is going to split her,' was his thought, as his
mother lent her weight to Jessie's straining.  `I'm going to tear her womb
into pieces.  She's going to bleed like a pig.'

   Jessie felt her bones adjusting, but an intense pain was threatening to
overwhelm her.  Another ragged intake of breath: and a piercing scream rent
the air.  "Push, Laura.  Push, you dumb slut.  Oooooogggh."

   Suddenly, her uterus seemed to spread and pout, and she could feel the
head of Sam's cock compress into a spike that drove through the nub and
into her womb.  It was in, but her pubis still wasn't grinding into his.

   "Oooh, oooh, slowly...  oooh," she had broken into a sweat and frozen
momentarily, and then she smiled sideways at her sister.  "It's in.  It's
inside my womb.  Sam's cock is leaking spunk right into my womb.  I've
never felt anything like this..."

   Sam's gaze was fixated on the incestuous union where his rock-hard cock
disappeared into his aunt's slobbering cunt.  He'd never been this deep in
a woman before, not that he'd been `in' many, but just looking at his
aunt's vagina, with the inner labia stretched cotton-thin around the shaft
and the outer lips drawn back from the inch-long thumb of her erect
clitoris, was mesmerizing.  Meanwhile, his inner being was trying to cope
with the sensation of his aunt's uterus clamped around the base of his
glans like a vice, and the increased heat of her womb.

   "This is so tight, we might be joined like this forever."

   "Slowly, darling.  I want it all.  Can you push up again as I push
down...? ...but very, very slowly, baby.  Oooh, oooh, oooh..."

   Sam had not believed that his aunt could get even more inside her
sucking womb, but she did.  Gritting her teeth, and yet paradoxically,
trying to relax even more, she slowly rocked in little twisting movements
from side to side and worked the rest of his ramrod into her womb. 
Suddenly, they felt their pubic bones grind together and he was as deep
inside a woman as he would ever get.  The feeling of her clitoris nuzzling
into the bush of Sammy's pubic hair was too much to bear.

   "Sammy, baby, auntie's going to cum.  Oh Jeezus-fuck.  Oh baby... 
oooh." She was suddenly frightened by the growing intensity of an orgasm
that was going to happen with a man's cock clamped inside her womb and
pressing into her guts.  She had absolutely no control anymore.  Her body
had become a sacrifice to the fuckmeat that possessed her.  Preceded by a
spasm of fear that they both felt, Jessie's orgasm erupted.

   The world around her seemed to recede into an alternate reality of which
she was only marginally a part.  She could hear someone screaming, but
couldn't see who it was, and it didn't seem so important, given the fire
that was burning in her genitals.  Her clitoris was incandescent with
flame, and the silent watcher observed passively as it poured upwards into
her belly and coalesced around the shaft of flesh that had entered her most
sacred fount of womanhood.  At the same time, the mind from which she had
become detached dissolved into an acid that crawled down the ladder of her
spine and poured into every nerve ending and fibre of her being.

   The separation lasted for an instant, but a time in which she observed
her own climax wipe clean the sexual detritus of a hundred failed
relationships and wasted liaisons.  She watched herself being reborn in her
own cunt.  And then the watcher and her self reconnected with a nano-snap.
Her scream peaked as her mind imploded and she passed out, fainting right
away and slumping into the arms of her sister.

   Sam had witnessed this in real time, conscious of the turmoil in the
muscles that roiled and flexed around the pillar of his cock like snakes,
and watching her face constrict in a richtus of pleasure-pain that no man
can ever hope to comprehend.  Paradoxically, as her body spasmed, the
incredible tension in her uterus suddenly relaxed, releasing its grip and
allowing his penis to bury itself to the hilt in the rippling sanctum of
her womb.  He could feel the beginnings of his own climax, and sat up to
take his aunt around her narrow waist and clasp her to his own body in a
loving embrace, her tits bulging obscenely as they flattened between them,
but it was to his mother that he spoke.

   Inches from her inquiring face, he reached a hand up from Jessie's back
and cradled the back of his auntie's head, freeing his mother to place her
soft, dry palms on either cheek.  Her blue eyes flicked uncertainly from
one of his to the other, "What is it, darling?"

   "Mom, I'm going to cum in Jessie's womb.  I'm going to spunk her.  I'm
cumming in her womb, mom.  I could be getting my own auntie pregnant, mom.
I can't stop...  Uuuunnnghhh...  My cock is going to spew my sperm right
into Jessie's womb."

   Sam's mother looked lovingly on her son, and whispered, "Spunk her,
baby. Fuck a baby into my slut sister.  Cream her good, darling.  She
deserves it.  She's your slut now." And then, just before she leaned in and
slid her questing tongue into her son's open mouth and began to kiss him
passionately, she added, "But you have to fuck a baby into me too, Sammy.
You have to spunk me too.  Mommy needs you, darling, like this..."

   As Sam's fuck-stick began to unload huge gobs of sticky baby-juice into
his aunt's womb, pumping in so much spunk that he spray-painted her
inner-space with millions of wriggling sperms, Jessie recovered
consciousness: a diver swimming out of the depths and drawing in that first
delicious breath, but feeling Sam's cock flexing in the very core of her
own body and spewing his incestuous seed where it now belonged, her
once-receding climax returned, and the angel of the little death claimed
her consciousness once more.
Sam's hug, and his grip on his aunt's hair stopped her spasming body
from falling off his lap, but his cock seemed to go on squirting thick
strands of fertilizing cum into his aunt's swelling womb for ever, and as
his tongue meshed with his own mother's, he suddenly saw the future with

the clarity of an oracle...

   -----*****----

   Part the fourth: It's Important to Accessorize:

   "I'm going to the studio." Sam's announcement stopped the sisters'
conversation abruptly, as he waked into the dining room.  "Clocky's
finished tailoring the alterations to the clothes, particularly the dresses
mum, and Gibbs wants me to see some Lycra hotpants she says are pretty
radical and a couple of skirts she's been putting together after I saw how
good you looked in that one this morning, Jess.

   Sam's mother looked up, somewhat quizzical, from watching her sister
fastening a cunt-cage around the latex pedal pushers she had changed into,
and asked, "But I thought you...  I was hoping..."

   "Ask Jessie, mom.  I'm not exactly fully equipped, just now.  Ask
Jessie."

   "No, that's true Laura.  I'm really, really sore," then she smiled at
her nephew, "...but it's the nicest kind of `sore' I can imagine.  What
time will you be back, lover."

   "Oh, I don't know, early this evening?  You might like to put something
on between now and then, though," he chuckled.  She was bending over,
massive udders swinging, as she fiddled with a buckle.

   "Oh, I guess I'll get around to picking something out.  Any
suggestions?"

   "Maybe something very short.  That ultra-mini looked amazing on you this
morning.  Showed off your legs to perfection.  Oh, by the way, I've asked a
friend from the salon downstairs from the studio to come over this
afternoon and do your hair and nails.  She should be here by one." He
swirled out of the room, his grin leaving a distinct warmth in the hearts
and minds of the women he left behind.

   The `hair lady' arrived at the door with Clocky at precisely two.  She
was pretty, petite and about as intelligent as a plate of beans on toast.
Jessie let her in, carefully watching the woman's reaction to the way she
was dressed.  Clocky immediately excused herself, after the obligatory gawp
at what Jessie was wearing now.

   "I'll go and get Laura.  She in the kitchen?"

   "Try the bathroom, Clocky, I think my sister's washing her fanny again.
She seems to be producing more than her usual amount of a mature woman's
feminine perfumes, if you know what I mean.  Personally, I find the smell
of her cunt an enormous turn-on."

   Jessie had changed again, in fact, both sluts had.  Now, she was in
full-blown dominatrix mode.  She'd selected a pair of low-rise leather
hotpants and was wearing a largely conventional suspender belt with
gleaming seamed charcoal stockings attached to the four straps on either
side.  Each of these had Sam's `slut' trademark engraved on the large
silver snaps.

   Above this, she wore another underbust corset, also in black leather,
but had managed to nip it in at the pipestem waist to about 22 inches.  Her
giant tits were nominally covered by a gauzy bolero that was almost smoky
in its transparency.  She'd also donned a broad studded choker with a large
plate on the front that was engraved with the word `bitch', and she was
wearing the cunt-cage again.

   Therefore, it probably wasn't the clothing that might have provoked
comment, so much as the enormous dildo that she had spiked onto the
attachment over her pudenda: a dildo that was the biggest in the box of
accessories that had been brought over from the studio.  The massive
moulded replica penis was 14 inches long and as thick around as a soda can,
with knobbled veins that appeared to climb like vines towards an enormous
mushroom head.  The effect the vision of this gorgeous slut had on the hair
stylist went way beyond mere shock and awe.  She was stunned for long
moments into jaw dropping, drooling, immobility.  Then, a look of fear
crossed her face and the Barbie doll spoke, stammering at first...

   "Fuck, you're not thinking of...  of putting that,..." she pointed at
the gently pulsing fuckstick with a beautifully manicured
forefinger,"...anywhere near me, are you, lady?"

   "If I did, you'd never want to leave this house any more, cupcake.  I'm
just wearing this to remind myself how much cock my mommy-fucking boyfriend
had up my slimy cunt this morning, just before he went and fucked it into
his own mother.  Still wet and sticky, just the way she's growing to like
it.  With a dick this big, you'd probably feel him coming in the back of
your throat, darling.  Now, do you want to make my hair and nails look
slutty, or do I have to let you suck my little dickie first?" Jessie's
shock strategy was certainly effective.  The slim and small-busted stylist
had eyes like dinner plates.

   At that moment, Clocky led Laura into the hallway, holding a braided
leather dog's lead that was attached to a choker around the voluptuous
mother's throat.  "Mum's idea," she said, by way of explanation.

   Jessie got straight to it.  "Right then Barbie, we both want inch and a
quarter acrylic extensions on our nails, and you can put those little rings
with the diamond-cut edges in to every nail on my sister's left hand. 
She's left handed, and she wants it to look sexy when she's guiding her
son's cock into her asshole.  I want rings in my thumbnails and middle
fingernails.  Laura will ask you what colour you think will suit her best,
but I want carmine red.  And we'll both have a soft perm.  Our man doesn't
want us to lose anything off the length of our hair.  In fact, he's
insisting we both grow it long.  Can you cope with that, cupcake?"

   "Jeezus, but you are hard core, lady.  And no worries on the nails and
perm: Clocky gave me the details earlier.  And it's Rachel, if you don't
mind.  I may look a bit blonde to you, but I do have my own name you know."

   "Alright Rachel, we'll be best in the kitchen.  Through here."

   "Clocky was saying that you might both be thinking of going blonde
yourselves.  "

   Jessie turned an inquiring eye on the apparently ex-Goth girl, now
stretching her neck over the torpedoes of tit and kissing the ballooning
upper curves of her sister's jiggling breasts, crooning words of
encouragement to the older slut.  "So you think we should go blonde, do
you, Clocky?"

   "Not me, Aunty Jessie, but I think that Sam might want you to look even
sluttier.  Always assuming that's possible, of course."

   "Could you do that, cupcake?  Sorry, hard to break the habits of a
lifetime."

   "Sure, `Aunty'." The slim stylist smiled lasciviously.  "I came prepared
for everything except seeing a couple of women my mother's age dressed like
that.  I have to admit that you do look fucking amazing though."

   "Well, thank you Rachel.  Now, hair or nails first?"

   "Hair.  Through here?"

   Jessie cast a glance at her sister, now pulling Clocky's face deep into
her cleavage with one hand while the other had been slipped down inside the
waistband of her slacks and was busily frigging the girl's cunt.  "No more
washing up or housework for us, sister.  You'd better feed your tame
pussy-girl there and get her to move in, or nothing will get done."

   "Oh, it'll get done, Jessie.  It'll all get done," her sister responded,
virtually suffocating Clocky in her tit meat.

   -----*****----

   Part the fifth: Afterglow:

   Samuel was lying on his left side, facing his aunt and kissing her with
a very deliberate passion.  His tongue meshed with hers, licked inside her
lips and the sounds of their contented slurping had been the loudest noise
in his mother's bedroom since their incestuous lovemaking had pushed them
both over the edge into mind-blowing orgasms.  One of the young man's hands
played with the turgid teat of a massive breast as it swelled out of the
peephole of an equally enormous brassiere in black lace, kneading, pulling
and twisting it between finger and thumb, eliciting small ooohs and aaahs
from the woman.

   Jessie was lying fully dressed, or as `fully' dressed as her outfit
allowed.  She was wearing towering chromium-heeled thigh-length patent
leather boots, pulled very tight to her skin with a series of hooks and
clasps that started above the ankle on the outside seam and ran all the way
to her upper thigh.  Peeking over the tops of the boots were 20 denier
black silk stockings that were in turn attached to a girdle with eight
garters on either side that all ended in Y-shaped double suspender clips
that Sam had patented as `snake-tongue snaps'.  Very little of the woman's
substantial thighs showed through, as there was so much strapping; and it
had taken her thirty minutes after her morning shower to get them all done
up to her satisfaction.

   Above this, Jessie was wearing a latex underbust corset with a more
conventional material waspie nipped in tight to narrow her waist.  The
peephole bra was a much-modified custom made affair in lace and nylon with
heavy under-wiring to force her huge breasts into a projecting rack of
tit-flesh.  To complete her ensemble, she'd strapped a collar around her
neck that had four large silver D-rings attached, and the broad shoulder
straps of the bra had a small belt attached at the apex of each that
fastened to this collar.  On a plate on the front of the collar, and on
each suspender clip, the word SLUT had been engraved.  Jessie could smell
the musk of her own cunt and the sperm that trickled and smeared in the Vee
of her crotch.

   Jessie's orgasm had been fierce: a volcanic explosion that had started
in the cleft of her sex, melted out through clitoris and anal bud like
lava, and then claimed the rest of her body's organs in rapid succession.
She had never experienced climaxes quite like these before and felt that
some of her stimulus for depravity might have come from the fact that the
sex was indeed incestuous.  It was also unprotected sex.  Something she
hadn't told Sam; that she might conceive.  The idea that she could at that
moment be getting pregnant with her own nephew's baby was inordinately
exciting, and she found herself tightening her vaginal muscles to prevent
the escape of any more of his sperm.  She could already feel the sticky
spend leaking out of her pussy - and suddenly it was important to give her
fertile womb every chance.

   She was still grasping Sam's cock as she relished his kisses; gently
rubbing her fingers along the shaft, feeling the ridges of muscle and veins
and trying to encircle his girth.  The size of his cock had been a
revelation, as Sam's father had not been particularly well-endowed himself
- `...well, if you can believe Laura, that is', and she had no reason to
doubt the word of her own sister, given the physical and psychological
transformation that had occurred in her: another reason for the intensity
of the climax, because she had felt really stuffed and stretched; again,
something completely new to her.  Her sister's son had a porn-star cock,
and it was definitely getting hard again.  She broke the kiss with a moan
into the corner of his mouth.

   "Sammy, darling, you're gonna' want to go again in a minute, and my
brain is still in freefall.  Oh Jeeze, baby, your dick is amazing.  I'm not
sure I want to share this meat with my sister any more, or any other woman,
come to that.  Clocky's been looking at you a bit dewy-eyed this last
couple of days too, once she'd helped you turn Laura into your personal
property."

   His chuckle made the side of her neck vibrate, "You are fucking
delicious, Jess.  Ab-so-fuckin-lutely gorgeous.  I could eat you."

   "Well, baby, I'm sure you just did.  Not that I needed the lubrication.
For some reason, my pussy starts juicing like a ripe peach, every time I
get close to you," the vibration again, and his breath in her ear.  Feeling
his stiffening penis twitch in her hand, Jessie continued, "Did I taste
good, baby?  Did auntie's hot, juicy pussy taste good, squirting into your
mouth?  Maybe I should return the favour.  It's not every motherfucker that
gets a blow-job from his aunty."

   "Wait a moment, Jess, I want to talk.  Plenty of time, I'm not going
anywhere.  You can keep doing that with my cock, though."

   The older woman snuggled her face into his neck, "OK baby, but this is
getting real hard."

   "Jessie, since the show, you've shown no sign of wanting to return to
the way you were before; no sign that you want to stop walking around
dressed like a slut and pretty much letting me control the way you appear
to the world and the things that you do in it.  The two of you are still
dressing in my clothes, and ..."

   "Not your clothes, baby.  The clothes you design.  If I want to look
like a dyke dweeb, I'll wear cargo pants and flats, but I much prefer
looking like a slutty whore.  I get as much of a kick out of the latex,
leather and Lycra as my sister does: more, perhaps.  I love looking so
strong and in control of myself - and fuck everyone who doesn't respect my
right to look like this."

   "Yeah, I get that, but you must have thought about it...  going back to
a more placid normalcy...  and, well...  do you want things to return to
the way they were before?  I mean, the show was such a success that I've
been drawing up some ideas and Gibbs is already working on another
collection already."

   The Junoesque woman pushed away from him so that she could look into his
eyes and focus properly.  "Have you asked my sister the same question?"

   "Yes, I spoke to her yesterday, but mom seems to be completely enamoured
with her "new life" as she calls it.  She's asked me when I'm going to fuck
her again.  `Feed her some horse-cock' she said: straight out, like I'm
saying it to you.  I think Clocky sees herself as my mother's sexual
guidance counselor.  She's got really turned on watching me fucking my own
mother, but that's half the problem - I like fucking my own mom, hell, I
love it, and I want to keep on fucking her.  What I don't want is to lose
either of you.  I'm greedy, Jess.  I want to keep both of you - exactly
like this.  Exactly."

   Jessie leaned close and kissed him quickly.  "My sister has a submissive
slut streak that was completely hidden until this all started.  The fact
that it was you that brought it out has made you her Dominant.  I really
don't think she thinks of you as a son in the usual way anymore.  The
concept of submission to a younger lover has replaced all of that.  You'd
better take it easy with Clocky though.  I think she's in love with Laura
too, and if you're going to be digging deeply into a sexual relationship
with your own mom, Sam, you're going to have to bring Clocky into it too,
or she's going to be devastated, two for the price of one.  Not much choice
there, baby."

   Samuel kissed his aunt on the tip of her nose, "Yeah, well, Clocky was
helping me fuck mom, not just watching.  She kept grasping my cock and
helping it in, then trying to get me to fuck mom in the ass.  She was
feeding her the cunt-slime that mom was leaving all over it, too, and
giving mom a running commentary like you wouldn't believe.  `Sammy's
porking your big, whore ass.  Your own son is buried in your slut cunt: how
do you feel about that, slag?  Your cow-tits are bouncing like basket
balls, slut'...  stuff like that."

   "No, I can believe it.  I was getting so horny, listening to you going
at it, that I almost tried to muscle in, but I figured you needed some
quality time with my sister." She snorted with a suppressed laugh.

   "Hang on, you're not answering the question, you delicious slut."

   Her response was measured and thoughtful, "I wasn't ready to, but I am
now: Sam, I don't want to go back - probably couldn't anyway.  You let
something out," she tapped the side of her head, smelling the odour of cunt
cream and sperm that clung to her sticky hand and wafted around her face as
she did so, "...here...  and here," she next touched the bodice of the
corset over her heart and between her jiggling cleavage.
"You call the woman you let out a slut: me, Sammy.  It's as good a term
as any.  I look like a slut because I dress like a slut, and I dress like a
slut because the woman who has been trapped in this body for such a
horribly long time needs to express herself.  Myself, Sammy; I need to
express myself.  I'm going to be me from now on, and I love looking like
this.  If that means that I'm a slut, then I am.  The word has a different

meaning for me than it has for you."

   "You'll have to explain that a little more."

   "When you call me a slut, it's because you're talking about my
sexuality: the fact that I'll fuck my own nephew and sister, the fact that
you can do anything you want with me and to me and I'm probably going to
get a kick out of it...  enjoy it.  You know that I like it rough, already,
and you're going to find out how rough, aren't you Sammy?  You are going to
use me and abuse me, if I agree to become your slut, aren't you, Sammy
dear?" She began to tease, "Do you want to strap up my big, fat tits in
that bondage bra you had your mom in yesterday?  Want to turn auntie's
titties purple too and beat them with a titty-whip?" The cock in her hand
gave another twitch, and seemed to be getting even bigger.

   "No need to answer, baby.  You're cock's talking to me loud enough."

   "So, what you're saying is that I see your growing sluttiness as one
thing, and you feel the slut emerging from the inside, but as a
characteristic; a part of your developing persona, rather than just
entering a state that is largely externalised?"

   "Wow, that's pretty deep for someone who's lying on a bed with his
slutty aunt while she plays with her new toy.  Fuck, Sammy, you really do
have a fucking huge mommy-fucker.  I think it's getting bigger, too."
Again, the chuckle.

   "Wait, you haven't answered my question."

   "Yes I have, slut-fucker.  You just want to hear the words come out of
my mouth.  And by the way, I think you're wearing more of my lipstick now
than I am.  OK, here it is: I think that the woman I am now has always been
here inside, and now that I've recognised my inner slut, she's out forever.
I'm not going back.  But; and there's always a `but', isn't there,
darling?...  I really need you to respect me, and promise to respect me,
even though you use me like the slut I am.  Nobody else will, Samuel... 
nobody else.  They'll see me, but there is no one else."

   "Whew," he pondered what she had said, while her hand continued to do
wonderful things to his pulsing fuckstick, "...Well that makes this a
little easier, then.  Jessie, I want you...  I want you so bad.  And it's
not just lust, either.  I'm in love with you.  Jeeze, this is going to
sound weird, and I can hardly believe it myself, but it's undeniable: I am
deeply and completely in love with you, Aunt Jessie.  I want you to marry
me?"

   "But, I want to marry the slut, not the bitchy cow with the hour-glass
figure and udders camouflaged in loose tracksuits and baggy clothes who
gave me a hard time.  I want to marry you like this.  I want you to be my
slut forever.  Fuck it, Jess, I want to marry you, possess you, and yes,
"...use and abuse," too.  The hard part is..."

   "The hard part is that you want my sister as well!  Would you want to
marry her, too?  That's a big step, Sammy.  Would you want to cope with two
horny old cows?  Most men can't even cope with one.  Hey, Clocky will
probably want some kind of promise of security too.  That's a hell of an
`ask', baby.  Why, even Gibbs has a thing for me.  Have you thought this
through?"

   "Not really," he said, wryly, "This kind of relationship potential
doesn't crop up that often."

   "No, you got that right." They were both chuckling into each other's
faces now.

   He grew serious again, "Well, could you cope with that?  If I wanted to
marry both of you?"

   "Where would we live?  And...  I mean...  how would we...?  We could
both get pregnant, you know.  Fuck, I might already be pregnant, Sammy. 
We're both still fertile...  and Clocky...  How would we raise kids?  I
mean..."

   Samuel put his forefinger on the pout of his aunt's lips, "We'll work it
out, together when that possibility occurs.  The important thing is, will
you marry me...  well, `us', I guess."

   "This has to be the most bizarre marriage proposal of all time...  But
it's also incredibly sweet, and exciting." She gulped, took a deep breath
and looked deep into her incestuous lover's eyes.

   "I accept.  Jessie the slut wants to marry her nephew, Samuel - and her
own sister, Laura; and probably her sister's equally slutty lover, Clocky.
And I have no idea how we're going to do it," she kissed him quickly on the
lips, "...but we are.  Now, aunty-fucker, come and fuck your slut hard."

   She relinquished his cock and rolled onto her belly, her heels catching
momentarily in the sheets, then drew her knees up to assume a semi-kneeling
position.  Reaching back around the gartered globes, she dug her long,
carmine fingernails into the cleft between her buttocks and pulled
outwards, her huge ass blooming open to reveal the bud of her anal sex.  "I
want you to hurt me with that baseball bat, baby.  I want it in my ass, all
of it.  Come and fuck my slutty ass, baby."

   Her nephew, her lover, guided the meat of his throbbing rod into his
auntie's dripping cunt and dragged it through the goo, lathering up the
column with her juices and his own mingled sperm.  Then, he placed the
violet apple of his cock-head into the tight, brown pucker and began to
push the unbending arm of meat into her shitter, watching the anal band
stretch thin, like the ring of a condom, around his girth.

   As the huge cock began to slide into the depths of her hot turd-shute
for the first time, she found a new dimension to her growing slutdom.  She
was an anal virgin, but she knew with certainty that she had been born to
be anally reamed by her nephew's giant cock.  "Ooooh fuck yeah,
mooooorrre-eeeaaaaah!  All of it, Sammy, ram my shithole.  Oooh, so gooood,
so gooooooddd-aiyeeeh!"

   `How can I come with a cock in my ass?' was her last thought, as she
did..."

   -----*****----

   Finis June 2012