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She collapsed back onto the bed, but unlike her mother she didn't pass out, she was just exhausted.I laid down beside her and held her in my arms."God your pussy tastes delicious, both you and your mothers pussy smells and tastes like cinamon." That's because we both wash with cinamon flavered douches. Mom has always made me keep my pussy and ass clean." Your ass too?" Yeah, mom and I have douched and taken enemas for years, she always has gone on that those are the parts of a female body that need to be cleaned the most."That was interesting news. My cock got a little harder, it hadn't occured to me to fuck the teenager in her ass, this brought on all kinds of new possibilities.We laid together while Amy got her wind back and my mind whirled around the thought of fucking that firm, tight 15 year old ass, and fucking her mothers too; a whole new world of opportunity lay before me. I guess I was so engrossed in orchestrating their new wardrobes I hadn't given fucking much thought. The. I can see him in the drivers seat leaning over and kissing a young woman passionately. Tears start to roll down my eyes. He’s never done this before, I’ve never actually seen him with another woman. They still haven’t gotten out the car and I can see it getting more passionate. He’s unbuttoned her blouse and taking her breasts into his mouth. His hand has slipped lower I can only imagine it’s found it’s way between her legs. He leans his chair back and she climbs on top. Straddling him in our family car. I don’t want to see this but I can’t look away. She’s riding him long and slow. Kissing him as she does. She looks so young, can’t be more than 20. My pussy starts to pulse, we haven’t had sex in months. He hasn’t let me feel his cock inside me. Has denied me that pleasure to tease me. She’s getting it. She’s feeling my husbands hard cock inside her and I just can’t look away. She’s riding him faster and harder. The car is shaking, all the neighbours must be able to see. My fingers.
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The porch was empty so I proceeded into the main dwelling. "Abbey ... where are you?" I taunted. "Come out so we can play." The main living space was large, with vaulted ceilings, open beams, and fans turning slowly. The look may have been island tropical, but the furniture and appointments were top quality and expensive. Then I heard Abbey's voice from one of the bedrooms, she was on the phone. "Hello, hello? Yes. No. I'm in a beach house. There's a man here. He's..." As I entered the room she froze in fear. She was kneeling along side the bed, speaking into the receiver lying on the pillow. "OH GOD ... He's here!" She backed into a corner, looking frantically for a way to run. "Stay away from me!" I moved toward the bed from the opposite side, reached over and grabbed the phone. "This is Mr. P.A. Who am I speaking with?" I asked. "This is the Club Concierge. Are you in need of assistance?" How odd that seemed. They were asking if 'I' was in need of assistance. "No, everything is.

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