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She moaned loudly, bucked her pussy up tighter into his face, and subsided, trembling, into the grass. As they rolled apart, I snuck quickly away, considering what I had seen, and beginning to understand why Molly had attached herself to me, as she had.I must confess, that what I had seen had given me a raging hard-on, which I proceeded to use on my wife, Pat; thinking, as I fucked her, of the glistening, wispy red bush, and pink pussy-lips I had glimpsed, when John raised his head from Molly's cunt.In the two years that followed, Pat and I drifted farther and farther apart. Even the bed part became less and less good. Pat had never been enthusiastic there, but at least she had been available. In six years I hadn't been able to get her to blow me. Even when I ate her pussy, which I loved to do, she wouldn't reciprocate as I wished. I had gotten to the point where even pretending it was Molly under me, or whose cunt I was eating, no longer worked. On the night I was telling of, it had. I followed my father’s task. My mother dutifully explained each tedious chore and then demonstrated before joining my sister to finish it.Asses jiggled and tits bounced as they scrubbed, vaccumed, and tidied the house. It was hardly glamorous and there wasn’t anything sexual about it – but it still turned me on watching two women clean in the nude.When it was time for lunch, my mother placed a raw hot dog upright in each of the slop bowls. She said that lunch usually involved a treat. The hot dog was the treat. It clearly looked like a dick bobbing and wiggling in the upright position.Cherry demonstrated that she could take the entire hot dog down her throat and smiled after I gave her permission to eat.“That’s a twenty-dollar blowjob. Just a few inches isn’t,” She looked at Tiffany with a smirk. My mother was trying to demonstrate that there was more to even the art of blowjobs then opening your mouth and getting paid.I don’t think Tiffany truly understood the lesson.My sister.
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