On the edge of release, i beg, i surcom to your will and this is were you keep me begging, you finally grant me permission on the one condition that I...shoot my hot load on myself, then after you make me massage my mess into my relived sensitive cock, soaking it with my own cum, then you make me continue stroaking, to which you demand stays rock hard because you have not finnishd with me, as you steer at me with those sharp eyes pleased with me following your every order, me with my hard cum. Her feet were at my face, and I could feel her warm breath on my dick. She put the blanket back over us and went to work. Her mouth felt amazing on me. Her lips were tight against my cock, and her tongue danced around in her mouth. I could feel the back of her throat, and a slight cough every time she took me deep. She sat back up and lay next to my face. "Now fuck me," She said, almost with all the of enthusiasm of a drunk chick. At this point I couldn't refuse, and I didn't. I pulled her. She stood next to the bed completely nude, her enormous tits jutting out over her bulging belly. Her heart shaped monogrammed bush crowned her thick thighs. "Now close your eyes for me, no peeking." I closed my eyes tight.Moments later, I felt the bed move as Lena climbed on. " Now," she said in a calm voice, "turn over and get in to position for me." I knew the position she meant, on my hands and knees with my arse in the air. I knelt on the bed with my head resting on the pillows, my pussy. Cecelia's. The woman, Anne Coulter, that I'd seen slumped over in a drunken stupor, had thrown me away like some unwanted garbage. Her mother seemed even more callous. And yet, and this was the part I was having trouble accepting, they were both a part of me. The blood that ran through my veins was, in large part, theirs. I hated them both, but I wanted and needed to hear from them, everything they could tell me about my birth, and those lost first years of mine. The hate part had been.
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