Little Big Girls

‘Emily? Wake up. Are you alright?’

(Abby slurring) ‘uncle.. she’ll be fine. we just had too much to drink.. ‘

‘Are you sure? She’s not dead right?’

‘Haha! No. She won’t die so easily.. ‘

Kneeling on the second row of seats to check in on my daughter (in the last row) who just turned eighteen, I was their so-called ‘designated driver’, though I was only required to pick the both of them up. I was about to let them catch some sleep at where they were seated (or lying) when out of nowhere, Abby climbed drunkenly into my lap.

Inappropriate as it may be, I did not just ‘throw her off’ but tried to lift her away respectfully, aware that she was simply misbehaving under influence. After a few attempts to move her, she grew impatient and straight up pulled her spaghetti-top off, unsettling me with her defiance, to flash a pair of braless, glorious tits, in a brightly-lit car.

With a flick of her wrist, she put the lights out and smushed her lips, unromantically against mine. My flailing, panicking hands were next to be subdued, once she had tucked them under her thighs. In a few, swift motion, she managed to undo my pants, and pulled them low enough to expose my semi-rigid cock. Our mouths, they continued to be occupied with each other until I wriggled my hands free, to massage her petite, minor-B cups.

Amidst the groans and muffled moans, I was soon writhing in her little hands as they stroked and milked me, with little care for Emily’s presence. In two, intense minutes, Abby had sunken into the tiny space between the front-passenger seat and my feet, mouth salivating at the cock she was holding endearingly. As soon as she put me between those soft, pink lips, I envisioned a plunge into a bottomless abyss, one that ‘drown’ by pleasure, and its breathlessness that ensued. I could not fight the quiver that was resonating through my body, nor suppress the sighs of gratification escaping my lips, or divert my undeserving gaze away from her.

It is, one thing to indulge in a good blowjob, but to be the ‘indulgement’ for an unreserved lady, it could completely rewrite a man’s definition of ‘ownership’. Before I knew it, I was hard, and delusional enough to let her climb onto my cock without showing any signs of reluctance. It was especially hot to see how amenable she was, to raise that grey, skater skirt for her friend’s father.

After all that, I barely had any strength to hold any parts of me up, save for the one she stuffed inside her pussy. Holding onto my shoulders, her hips immediately went into overdrive, bouncing and piling into my lap, jamming that hot piece of rod deeply into her cunt. With her legs spread around me, she was as wide as I felt at ‘home’ in her, while the occasional contractions kept my grasps on her waist tight, and my toes curled.

We were a good, few minutes into it when she abruptly succumbed to exhaustion, which was kind of ‘expected’ given how wild she started. So, it was my turn to put her on her knees, flatten the seat, bend her over, and went at her in doggy-style. It took us no time to get right back into the mood, banging and wailing for our lives until Emily jolted awake. For the split second we froze with our genitals intact, Emily swopped in for her friend’s lips, and breasts, and revitalised our guilty tryst.

(Abby moaned) ‘Em.. EM! wait.. I.. I sucked your dad with these.. ‘


Without fear, she kissed Abby’s daddy-stained lips and the passion-level in the car shot through the roof. Slowly, Emily let herself slide lower into her seat, until she was approximately ‘right under’ her friend. Fucked from behind, kissed from under, and jiggled in the middle, Emily finally revealed her intent when Abby moaned significantly louder, to the fingers we could feel rubbing her clit.

Emily, had put her middle and fourth fingers around her friend’s pussy, to give my shaft a ‘massage’ as I went ‘in and out’, while her thumb on that same hand, was arched inwards to produce the knuckle rubbing Abby’s clit. My daughter, was literally stroking me, as she rubbed her friend crazy.

For the next few, indescribable minutes after she pulled that stunt, Abby just went berserk with orgasms while my stokes became increasingly-erratic, as an expression for that ever-tightening pussy I had to plow harder and harder into. When it was time to finally end the mess, I used the milisecond-long void (of sensation) to retract hips, evacuate my swollen manhood out of Abby’s cock-wrenching vagina, and mistakenly let Emily caught hold of me.

Giving it a harmless tug, my body intuitively toppled over the girls for ‘self-preservation’, only to give Abby more ‘length’ to jerk me properly. Over the subsequent, twenty or so demoralising seconds she masturbated me between their bodies, I experienced the most controversial moment in my entire life, part aroused, part ashamed, part afraid, part egoistic, part suicidal. I had no clue about having any closure until I felt another hand, belonging to Abby, joining Emily.

The two hands then interlocked, and delivered me to my inevitable doom. When we came unstacked, the girls were covered in a sticky mess, which they then proceeded to lick off each other’s belly. Faced with a new dilemma, I continued on our journey to Abby’s home, before returning to our cosy abode. After taking our showers, Emily called me into her room, and my loss of words persisted when I walked in on her, unzipping her hoodie to reveal the nothingness we had to hide from each other.

From that night onwards, we maintained our distance and watched ourselves on the occasions that we couldn’t. We never allowed ourselves to get too close, or speak too freely, or behaved any bit suspicious, until we could be alone for at least an hour. And even then, we stood by one, single rule – no penetration, of any manner, is allowed. For everything else, Abby would be there, to fill the gap between their legs.

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