“Like?” you asked as your hands twirled firmly over my swollen head, causing my hips to push upward involuntarily.“I will take that as a ‘yes�...�.”There was no immediacy in your stroking, though there was purpose. It was steady, then twisting, then slow. Then damn slow. Never fast. Clearly you wanted this to last until you decided otherwise. Nothing was in my control, and that was OK with me.I closed my eyes again, concentrating on nothing but your hands.In no more than a second or two, the. ”Both boys knew that she had sex with the other. “Let’s keep this a secret among us,” she said to them. “I don’t want any complications or cause you problems with your girl friends.”She was not unhappy with the arrangement. In her moody moments she reflected that she was like a piece of exercising equipment, to be used now and then by the boys to burn up their excess sexual energy. She didn’t mind. Much. She enjoyed sex. She wanted to be more than a sex toy, but she didn’t want to devote the. I start to open my eyes. It looks like a basement? A big one. Like some big building’s basement, not a home. It’s hard to focus on the people in the room. They are talking. I think I hear a familiar female voice. Did they take Stacy too? No not Stacy. My head starts to feel less fuzzy. My eyes sharpen. “Rachel?”“Don’t look at her.” One of the men said. I must be mistaken. It can’t be her.It’s hard to see who he is. He looks familiar though. He pulled up a chair to me. That’s when I realize that. Here’s mum, definitely established as a one on the scale and my sister has, I would suggest, followed her down that path. Certainly her Dennis has the look of a man of whom constant and exhausting demands are made although, having said that, he’d probably find making a cup of tea demanding. Anyhow, if dad was a five, which is unlikely but I’m erring on the side of scientific caution here, that would mean that their progeny had a genetic tendency to fancying the other rather than the same.
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