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From: J <autoeroticrobot@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Wow Thanks Chp. 28
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Date: Sun, 18 Oct 2009 17:10:02 -0400
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/the autoeroticrobot/
Masturbation is NEVER a bad idea.


      

<1st attachment, "Wow Thanks Chp. 28.txt" begin>

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by the author unless explicitly waived.  Non-commercial re-posts
to ASSM or similar venues are allowed provided copyright information
remains on the re-posted story.  As a courtesy to the author please do not
delete the copyright information.  No commercial reprints are authorized.

   It has been a VERY long time, I know.  I got stuck on this story, so
very long ago, and became discouraged by a few bits of negative feedback.
Then my life changed radically, and I simply stopped even thinking about
it, for a long time.  I've tried to pick up where things left off.  Here's
a new, rather long chapter, that begins to wrap up the storyline.  I only
anticipate one or at most two more chapters.  I did, at one point, envision
a sequel.  That may or may not happen.  As always, I welcome and greatly
value feedback and comments: autoeroticrobot[@t]yahoo[d*t]com.

   Earlier chapters are still out there on ASSM -- I'm using the same email
to post, so they should be easy to find using the "other posts" link.

   I used to be posting to a free, hosted website that I had set up with
ASSTR, but I have had problems accessing the site, and trouble getting
support, so for now, this story is only appearing here.  I may try to start
up a "SOL" site (you either know what this is, or don't).

   WARNING: This fictional story may depict fictional consensual sexual
activity between men and women, or women and women, or maybe even men and
men.  Some of the fictional participants in the story may be fictionally
UNDER THE AGE OF 18.  But please note the main theme here: this is fiction!

   Wow Thanks (MFf, exhib, voy, inc, mast, cons) by autoeroticrobot

   Chapter 28.  ...  orgasms.

   Then Lissa continued, "I know, way back, Jason said we would do
simultaneous orgasms.  And I said that, this morning, too.  But I've been
thinking that it would be more interesting, at least for me, to, like, take
turns.  I mean...  so we can watch each other?" She ended on that funny
questioning raised tone teenagers sometimes seem to use when stating
something that requires agreement.

   Denise and I exchanged shrugs.

   "Like I said, you're in the driver's seat, hun," Denise said.

   Lissa giggled slightly, showing her self-consciousness for the first
time.  She turned to me.  "Do you remember that part in your 'Tease Club'
story with the timer?"

   I nodded, my imagination immediately racing.  It had been a
not-very-well developed scene in that story, where a two of the characters,
a man and woman, had been playing around with watching each other
masturbate, and had come up with the idea of taking turns with a short time
limit, rather than just watching each other without constraints.

   So much of that story had been about constraints of various kinds.  I
thought, briefly, how eerie and funny it was that life was, in this case,
imitating art so closely.  I was already speculating as to what Lissa would
propose.  I wasn't far off.

   "I think we should do something like that." She found her cellphone
again and picked it up and snapped it open.

   I looked at her curiously, and she gestured with one of those fluttery,
dismissive teenager waves: "There's a stopwatch function," she explained.

   Ah, of course.  I nodded, and asked quietly, "So how's this going to
work?"

   Denise and I exchanged glances.  I knew the way it worked in the story
(which is to say, it hadn't really worked that well, at least as a set-up
for an erotic scene).  I was wondering how she would choose to implement
it. I was hoping she wasn't counting on me to outline it all.  But I knew
both Lissa and Denise were familiar with the story, and I had tried to make
it clear that I agreed with my sister about Lissa being the one in the
"driver's seat."

   I think that up to that moment, Lissa had been thinking it would be
self-evident, but now she realized she was going to need to explain.  A
flash of exasperation crossed her face (or was it just the frustration that
comes with extreme horniness?).

   "Well," she began, drawing it out as if she were talking to slow-witted
children.  "We take turns, and each person has a set amount of time they
can do it, and when the time is up, they have to stop."

   "So who goes first?" I asked.

   "You do," she said, crinkling her nose.

   I laughed.

   "How long is the time?" asked her mom.

   She was quiet, as she considered a moment, and I noticed that her right
leg was swaying slightly, the way people do when they are ignoring the fact
that they need to pee.  But I thought, it likely wasn't because of that.  I
tried not to stare at the dark tuft of hair between the opening and closing
legs.  I tried not to notice the quick flash of moist pinkness when the
wayward leg swayed out to its widest position.  But my sister saw where I
was looking.  She looked over at the long-suffering, now-and-then twitching
cock that I had now become accustomed to being on display.  My dear sister
grinned wryly.

   "Better not make it too long," she added to Lissa.

   Lissa looked at her mom, and then quickly followed Denise's gaze to
where it was still lingering over my exposed lap.  The girl giggled
slightly.

   "It's weird how in such a short time you get totally used to something
like this and you stop even noticing even the craziest stuff." I felt like
she was reading my mind.  Lissa paused, but she didn't stop looking.  Under
youngster's attention, my swollen pocket golem gave an additional little
leap, like a puppy happy to be noticed.

   "Does it, like, hurt?" she asked.  Obviously, she was speaking to me.

   "No more than yours does, sweetheart," I said in a low, careful voice.
And smiled to show I wasn't just trying to tease her.

   "So...  is it like really close?"

   "What do you mean?" I asked.  I was sure I understood what she meant,
but something made me want to make her spell it out.

   She didn't seem put off by that.  "Like, how long would it take to make
it orgasm?"

   "Well, that would depend how hard I tried," I said, a little bit
jokingly.

   She opened her mouth in a silent laugh.  "Obviously," she droned.  "But,
like, if you ...  if you went at it like wanting to finish?"

   I considered.  That's not normally a figure a guy is used to trying to
come up with.  But I finally guessed, "I don't know, probably between one
and two minutes.  Maybe even less."

   "Really?" she actually leaned forward as she said this, as if looking
more intently at the apparatus in question could elicit a confirmation. 
Suddenly a thought visibly traveled from her forehead to her mouth.

   "I know!" she announced.  "How about, instead of a time limit, we can
just have someone say 'stop' if it starts looking, uh..  dangerous?" She
looked up to my face, and over to her mom's, evidently pleased with her
brainstorm.  "That would like, sorta stretch it out...  which exactly like
seems to be the point of this whole thing.  This whole...  thing." She
echoed herself, like someone making sure she'd said what she meant to say,
or not believing she'd said what she'd heard herself say.

   "So, you mean, we take turns stopping each other?" Denise said.  "That
could get ugly," she added, but laughing.

   Lissa laughed too.  "Sure." She snapped her cellphone shut again, having
decided no stopwatch was needed.

   "Do you still want Jason to go first?" she asked.

   Lissa nodded.

   "How do we determine who's the person to say 'stop'?"

   She shrugged.  "We could take turns," she offered.  "I think you should
watch the first time, mom...  you know more, like, what would be a sign of
it was time to make him stop."

   Denise chuckled at that.  "I've never watched him either, hun," she
protested gently.

   Lissa took it seriously, and said, "Well, but you've watched...  other
guys." Pause.  Sudden look of alarm.  "Right?"

   "Well, that's true," Denise agreed.  "So, shall we start?  Do you have
any other rules or suggestions?"

   Lissa meditated for a few seconds.  "Um.." She seemed suddenly hesitant,
but clearly she had something to add.

   "It's OK," Denise and I said in almost perfect unison.  We exchanged
glances.  "Anything you want," my sister added.

   "I really liked those 'pose' dares we were doing.  I was thinking... 
the person in charge -- the 'stop' person -- could set up a pose of the
other two people each time before they start doing it...  I mean, before
they start masturbating."

   Denise looked surprised.  "So, you mean that before Jason starts right
now, you want me to pose you and him in some way?"

   Lissa just nodded for a second.  "Well, obviously it would have to be a
pose where he could, like reach and...  like...  manipulate...  what he
needed to." She giggled slightly.

   "You're talking about those 'no touching poses' like what Marie and
Frank did at the end?"

   She nodded again, slightly embarrassed at making so obvious her erotic
impulses.

   Denise was thoughtful.  "Well, I wouldn't want to be unoriginal.  I'll
have to think of a good pose for you two.  Are you ready?" She directed the
last at me.  I shrugged, but my naked cock betrayed my high level of
interest.  She directed a sultry little smirk, cockward, and continued, "I
think the exact pose that Marie and Frank were in would be too difficult to
hold, with Jason having to masturbate at the same time.  But I'd be willing
to guess that what Lissa's after is just a nice close up view.  Am I
right?" Lissa gave a slight, embarrassed nod.  Her mother asked, "Do you
want a top-down view or a side view or what?"

   Lissa grinned self-consciously, but still only shrugged, which left the
decision to her mom.  Denise finally had me sit on the floor with my back
against the couch, with my legs spread but not too widely, making sure I
was comfortable.  Then she had her daughter simply lie down beside me, at a
right angle, so her face, propped on a hand with her elbow on the floor,
was within inches of my excited (and hopefully, exciting, for her) groin.

   What was new, of course, compared to earlier bits of close looking and
teasing, was that I was going to be masturbating "with intent to cum," as
my sister had ended up phrasing it, as we had a few more exchanges while we
got into position.

   With that, then...  it was started.  I began with some gentle,
self-teasing strokes, but Denise quickly became impatient, and said, "Based
on what Lissa has described, I think the point here is that you should be
trying hard to cum -- it's my job to make sure you stop before you get
there.  Hopefully I'll manage." She sat close on the other side of my lap
from where Lissa was, but not so up close, so she could watch my face and
body language too.

   So I started my standard "race to the finish" hand job for myself: right
hand wrapped around the shaft, with the pinky finger dug into base more or
less, index and forefinger in a three-quarter circle like a hook, riding up
over the wide flange of my glans and back down again, in a rapid staccato;
and on every third or fourth stroke, I would pause at the top of my stroke
to allow my thumb to sweep across the tip of my cock, capturing the
slippery precum that was flowing.

   Of course, with Lissa staring raptly with her seemingly unblinking
gorgeous brown eyes, and after such a long, long time at being edged and
teased, it was a remarkably short time before I felt the oncoming
conclusion, like a landing jetliner passing directly overhead.  It was
really no more than 40 or 50 seconds, I would guess, when Denise uttered a
firm but throaty "stop now."

   I pulled my hand away with huge reluctance and just sat, breathing hard.
The cock was throbbing, leaping a little, and the head was shiny with a
yummy clear coating of copious precum.  Lissa was leaning so close she
could probably smell it; I swear I could feel her hot breath.  She looked
up at her mom for a short moment, "Was it gonna shoot?"

   Denise laughed and pointed her chin toward me, as if to say, "ask him."

   So she looked up at my face, and said, "Was it close?"

   "Oh, definitely," I sighed.

   "Cool," she whispered.  "So, uh...  who's next?"

   "Either you or me," said Denise.  "You choose."

   "Um, you, I guess," Lissa ventured, after a short pause.

   "Who's going to be the one to tell me to stop?"

   Lissa giggled.  "I was gonna say it should be Jason watching, but that
would mean you and me in a pose...  I didn't think of that, before."

   "I don't mind, either way," Denise said, encouragingly.

   Lissa was indecisive, but at last, seeing that it was being left up to
her, she said, "well, I don't think I would be very good at knowing when to
say when you should stop.  So...  whatever." She turned toward me, "Um...
how would you pose us?"

   I had been wondering that, myself, and so I said what I'd been thinking.
"How would you feel getting a chance to watch up close, just like me?"

   Lissa shrugged, but I thought I could detect that she was "interested"
in the idea.  Of course -- curiosity and all that.

   So I told Denise to get comfortable however she preferred, the only
constraint being that she kept her legs fairly widely spread.  She settled
back on the couch in the corner, on knee up against the back, the other
sprawled wide with foot on the floor.  Then I had Lissa kneel on the floor
in front, resting her chin on the edge of the couch, her nose maybe 8 or so
inches from her mom's garishly displayed pussy.

   I then knelt down next to my niece, on the other side of Denise's knee,
to best supervise the proceedings.  I could see that Denise was very
aroused and excited by what was about to happen, but she surprised me when
she suddenly said, "Wait!" and sat forward.

   I thought something was wrong.  Seeing my look of alarm, and Lissa
crouching backwards, she grinned, "Sorry.  I just had a certain idea, is
all."

   We relaxed, and waited for her to explain, but instead she just gestured
for us to move back, and leaped up and ran from the room.  Lissa and I
exchanged looks of "what the hell?" and then both kind of laughed.

   Denise was only gone for about a minute.  When she returned, it was
immediately evident what had occurred to her: she was holding the infamous,
large, pink, lifelike dildo.  Lissa's eyes widened a bit, but she was
grinning.

   We resumed our positions, and without any prompting, Denise settled back
and, with her left forefinger very lightly teasing at her clit, she used
her right hand to grasp the dildo mid shaft and began sliding the tip of it
up and down her slippery cunt lips.  Within only a few seconds, she was
working it in.  "Oh crap," she moaned.

   I probably shouldn't have been surprised at how close she was, after all
the had happened, and knowing her sexual predilictions as well as I'd come
to know them over the last months.  She suddenly rammed it home and began
pumping.  Hard.  I nearly said nothing, I wanted to watch her explosion so
much.  But finally realizing the situation, I said, "Stop." It had been, at
most, 20 seconds.

   But she didn't stop.  Lissa glanced away from the pink object her mom
was jackhammering into her pussy toward my face for just a second, and
then, making this really peculiar grimace, she reached out and firmly
stopped her mom's right hand, and pulled the dildo out with a soft slurping
sound.  It glistened.  I wrapped a hand around Denise's forearm on her
other side, as her finger still hadn't stopped working her clit.

   "Oh, god, why!?" she hissed, and rolled her eyes.  But she took a few
gulps of air, and then smiled wanly.  "This is fucked up," she finally
muttered.  Somehow, despite everything that had been going on, this little
phrase seemed to scandalize her daughter slightly.  All three of us just
burst out laughing for a short time.

   With the tension released, it was now Lissa's turn.  My inexperienced
niece was clearly a bit nervous, but also obviously horny as hell.

   It seemed a foregone decision to all of us that Denise would be watching
her to give her the signal stop, and therefore that Lissa and I would be
posed in some way.  Lissa looked at the dildo for a moment, but decided she
wasn't going to do that.  "At least, not ...  yet," she explained.

   But Denise surprised me a bit with the way she decided to pose us.  I
would say that while the previous poses had been about visually stimulating
for one or both of the participants, with close-up views and all that, this
pose was more what you might call "situationally stimulating." And it was
unexpectedly intense and perverse.

   She had Lissa sprawl back in the armchair, legs up on the arms in the
classic porno pose, with her butt scootched right to the edge of the chair
and her young pussy widely displayed.  Then she had me upright on my knees
in front of the girl and facing her, which of course put my cock almost
exactly level with her cunt.  Basically, my sweetly perverted sister then
had me hold my cock firmly aimed at Lissa's glistening slot, my hips thrust
forward, in a blatent "I'm gonna ram this home" position.  She actually had
Lissa spread her pussy lips with her hand and told me to make sure I was
pointed right at the hole.  Jesus...  my cockhead was hovering at most
three or four inches away from that beautiful target.

   "I can't believe you're making us do this," Lissa said under her breath.
But she was obviously transfixed by the situation.

   Involuntarily, I was squeezing my cock.  Denise caught me, and said
sharply, "No, no.  It's her turn.  Perfectly still, Jason." But she smiled,
almost sweetly, as she said it.  "OK, whenever you're ready," she then
prompted her daughter.  And so Lissa began.

   Like both me and her mom before her, Lissa's session was all-too-short.
It took only a few seconds for it to be obvious how close she was.  With
her legs spread the way the were, her taut little clit was plainly visible,
like some kind of blood-pink candle flame.

   I noticed that the girl didn't actually touch her clit directly.  Was it
too sensitive?  Was she consciously or unconsciously still trying to hold
off the orgasm, despite her mom's gentle urgings?  Perhaps because some
lingering reticence about the situation, or perhaps because of her youthful
inexperience, it was nearly two minutes, I would guess, before Denise
finally felt compelled to say "stop."

   We all just sat back and caught our breath for a minute.  And then
suddenly, it was my turn again.

   This time, Lissa, still a bit twitchy from her recent close call, was
going to be the "supervisor" as she'd taken to calling it.  Clearly, the
girl was trying for a kind of revenge on her mom: she decided to set up the
same basic pose as her mom had put her and me into: Denise spread in the
armchair, pussy widely displayed, and me on my knees in front of her.  The
difference, obviously, was that now it was I who was masturbating.  Lissa
positioned herself leaning over one of the arms of the armchair, and
looking between my cock and face, to attempt to monitor my mental state.

   Because of Lissa's relative inexperience, I felt obligated to issue a
warning: "this will have to be very, very short." Lissa, already gazing
raptly at the tableau she'd orchestrated, just nodded, barely making eye
contact with me.
You'd think that by now, I'd have gotten beyond being shocked by things
my sister said.  But clearly her horniness was wiping out the last of her
inhibitions, revealing her juicy, utterly pornographic center.  She agreed
with what I'd said, directing her remarks at Lissa, saying, "Yeah.  We
don't want to see uncle Jason's baby makers splattered all over mom's
pussy." But something in the slightly infantalized, good-natured sarcasm of
it suggested she was visualizing otherwise, and she'd just cleverly planted
those same images into her daughter's and brother's over-stimulated

imaginations, too.

   My response to that planted image was raw and physiological -- my cock
throbbed and jumped in my hand, and a lovely pearl of the just-referenced
baby makers swimming in their sweet precum surged out the tip and tripped
and danced down the taut shaft to disappear in the crack where my
forefinger was in contact.  Lissa watched, fixedly, and when nothing more
happened, she said, "I thought maybe it was already going to shoot."

   I grunted, in that manly but incoherent way men on the edge of orgasm
tend to grunt.

   "That's just some more precum, dear," her mother said.  But she couldn't
resist piling on more x-rated imagery, as she added, "his poor cock thinks
it's going to get to go in like Mr dildo did, and it's just making lots of
sticky lubrication to make it go smoothly."

   Such a way with words, my sister had.

   Lissa giggled, of course.  But her eyes didn't waver.  "Are you ready?"
she asked me.

   I nodded.  "Too ready," I joked.

   A brief shadow crossed her face.  "You won't be, like, mad if I don't
stop it on time?" She looked up at her mom's face, then.

   "Oh god, no, hon," she immediately reassured.  "Just do your best.  As
Jason said, and as I can tell just by looking, it will need be very short."

   Lissa nodded again.  She took a deep breath, and tore her eyes away from
the view of my cock posed at the entrance to her mom's pussy and met mine.
"Go," she said softly.

   I began to stroke.  Too slow, again, too tentative.  But there weren't
any objections or complaints, this time.  Honestly, if I'd just dug in and
given it even one hard stroke, now, I'd have exploded immediately.

   Interestingly, Lissa didn't look back down at my hands.  She was
watching my face.  She was evidently taking her task to stop me on time
seriously, and despite her lack of experience, she was smart and savvy
enough to realize where the best evidence of the impending explosion could
be found.  Or else she'd picked it up watching her mom's approach, earlier.


   It was only about 30 seconds when I gave an involuntary shudder and my
breathing shortened noticeably.  My eyes, having been locked with Lissa's,
floated around until they settled on the widely spread, beautiful cunthole
hovering just inches beyond my swollen cockhead.

   "Stop." she said, firmly.

   I stopped.  I really don't know how I did it, but I stopped.  I let go
of my cock completely, to remove the stimulus.  It bounced and twitched and
my hips were bucking in a two-inch-deep fuck pattern.

   I noticed Denise's hips were actually rocking a bit, too, although she'd
been getting no physical attention at all.  Such is the power of the mind.

   Another quiet pause, as we settled back and took a breath.  No words
were exchanged, for a short time.

   For Denise's turn, Lissa decided she wanted to supervise that one too.

   At first, Lissa said wanted to continue the same pose.  Unfortunately,
it quickly became evident that her mom's industrious use of the dildo was
going to create a problem with my holding my cock so close to her pussy:
obviously, there was really only room for one turgid phallus-shaped object
in the general vicinity.

   Lissa sat back on her heels for a short time, meditating how she wanted
to rearrange things.  She muttered, "I wish I ..."

   My sister and I looked at her, questioningly, but she just kept thinking
some more.

   What she finally tried to do was a bit awkward.  She put Denise on the
floor, legs spread, and had me over her in a reversal of the one that Marie
and Frank had done: I was straddling, in an approach to the "69" position.

   But since Denise was trying to pump the dildo in out of her pussy, she
kept wanting to sit up to improve her reach.  Each time she raised her
head, she'd run into the obstacle of my balls and cock hanging above her.
She had a hard time getting a rhythm, but in fact that may have been what
made it possible for her to prolong her efforts without cumming.  Further,
it meant that Lissa had plenty of time to watch and detect when it was time
to say stop.

   Lissa was lying on her tummy, chin on her hands, watching her mom's
face. So I couldn't really see her at all.  About 15 seconds into Denise's
"turn," I heard Lissa say whisper, "Oh my god," and then both mom and
daughter gave a burst of giggles, as Denise's rhythm halted momentarily.

   "What's happening," I asked, over my shoulder.

   "Your fat dick is dripping precum on my nose," Denise explained.

   "Uh, ok," I acknowledged.

   I'm sure that just made the fat dick in question throb even more
menacingly.  There was an inaudible whisper and another burst of giggles
before my sister resumed drilling her pussy with the dildo.  I just tried
to enjoy the view without getting "ahead" of myself too much.

   The dildo's movements, and the other finger dancing on her clit,
accelerated rapidly, and it was a very short time more before I heard
Lissa's firm "stop" again.  She managed heroically to halt the movement of
both hands, but she was wiggling and bucking a lot, and I very briefly felt
her forehead collide with the base of my cock as she sat up partially with
an involuntary movement.

   "You can move now, Jason," Lissa advise.  So I rolled over as carefully
as I could and sprawled lengthwise (but inverted) beside my sister's
near-orgasmic, heaving, pale-coffee-flesh-delicious recumbancy.

   Lissa immediately showed great enthusiasm that it was her turn again.

   But now, logically, it was my turn to supervise, and I was feeling under
pressure somehow to "top" the previous audacious poses.  I didn't quite
know what I could do, and finally I asked, straight-out, "Lissa, do you
have any requests for the pose?"

   She looked sheepish for a moment, but then, glancing between her mom and
me, came out to admit, "Nothing personal, mom, but...  can I pose with
uncle Jason?"

   Denise nodded, probably finding her daughter's obvious wanton lust for
my cock more of a turn on, too.

   Lissa rose up into a kneeling position and reached to repossess the
dildo still held limply in Denise's hand.  "This time I think I'm going try
this," she said.

   So, following Lissa's now utterly uninhibited request, I ended up
crouched over my niece in a "no touching 69" in the same way as I'd been
over her mother, minutes before.

   "I may have a hard time judging when to say stop, from here," I warned.
"I can't see your face."

   Denise chuckled.  "I think maybe that's Lissa's intention," she teased
her daughter.

   "Mom!" Lissa protested, but she didn't deny anything.  "I can see what
mom meant about this being kind of awkward," she finally said, instead.

   "Do we need to do this different?" I asked.

   "Um, no...  I like the view," she giggled.

   The girl worked the dildo to the entrance of her pussy by feel, inches
below my hovering face.  This was as explicit a view as anything I'd ever
seen in any porno, and I had to admit to myself that it was most stunningly
erotic thing I could ever imagine seeing.  And yes, knowing it was my
fourteen-year-old niece's luscious young cunt that was about to get impaled
on that fat tool, under the direction of her own hand, no less, certainly
contributed more to my sense of arousal than I felt inclined to believe was
strictly ethical.  Lovely, lucky Lissa....

   Lost in my reverie, I had to be reminded that it was my job to say the
words that would make that plastic cockhead cross its own secret Rubicon
before my rapt gaze.  "We're waiting," the girls chorused, almost together.

   "Uh...  go," I said.  And as the fingers on Lissa's other hand
unhesitatingly homed in on her prominently protuberant clit, the plastic
dildo slid almost effortlessly into a hot, sticky, but rather
over-stretched-looking hole.  There's definitely been some practicing going
on, here, I had to remind myself.

   And then.  Dear god.  I lost it.  It was too much: the situation, the
visuals, the feeling of my niece's hot breath grazing the tip of my
overwrought cock.  I wasn't even aware of it, at first, to be honest.  It
crept up on me, as orgasms sometimes do.  It was entirely stimulus free. 
Well, I have had it happen once or twice before -- but not in years.  The
stimulus-free orgasm.  The semen just starts jetting out.

   As it did, just then.  I realized it immediately, as Lissa gave a little
shriek.  I can't say whether it was shock, or fear, or delight.  I know
Denise saw it right away, too.

   "Oh god," I groaned.  I bent my head and looked down my torso, up along
the erotic sight of Lissa's outstretched body, as she squirmed and moved
immersed in her own erotic fever.  And saw another jet of cum burst from
the tip of my cock like a burst of urine, to splatter liquidly down Lissa's
front.

   "Shit," I added, pointlessly.  And I started to move away, imagining
even in the throes of ecstasy that this was one step too far.

   But Denise's firm voice came to me, "don't move." And after a short
pause, "it's OK.  It's OK.  It's beautiful."

   Lissa said nothing, but began to whine.  It was that middle-pitched
moan-type whine of a girl going over the edge, I suppose.  Which was all I
needed to hear, to know that Denise was right -- it was OK.

   And so I thrust my cumming cock at the air above my niece's face as
squirt after squirt of hot semen first streamed, then burbled and finally
oozed out.  I alternated my gaze between this stunningly over-the-top
vision and the equally erotic view of the dildo hammering at high-speed in
and out of her maxed-out young pussy, while her other hand smashed and
massaged her spasming, hyper-sensitive clit.  She was almost screaming.  I
was just kind of groaning.  I nearly collapsed on her, but at the last
minute, I rolled to my side and onto my back, parallel to her as I'd been
to Denise, earlier.  But now...  there had been orgasms.

   I don't know how much time passed.  None of us moved, much.  I sat up,
and gazed across at my sister sheepishly.  She had clearly put herself
through an orgasm, too -- what she'd witnessed had been too much for her to
resist -- and who can blame her.  She sitting on the floor, leaned against
the couch, stroking the hair out of Lissa's eyes.

   Lissa lay very still.  The dildo was slackly positioned at her groin,
but still deeply inserted.  One hand was absently cupping and toying with
her incredibly modest growth of pubic hair, while the other had begun to
tentatively touch at the trail of slime I'd deposited along the length of
her body.

   That sight, in itself, was enough to cause my cock to return almost
instantly to full rigidity: my semen had left a spackled track from her
lower abdomen on up, between her breasts, right to her lips, with pools
collecting in the low spots at her navel and clavicle.

   Finally, Lissa spoke.  Somehow, both Denise and I seemed to have reached
a silent agreement that we were waiting for her to say something, first.
   "That was SO amazing," she said.  

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