“Yes, you do, Aunt Cheryl,” groaned Melody. “Right, Cupcake?”
“Yeah,” Alicia said, her words soft, subdued.
“I bet it’s making your little pussy hot, Cupcake.” Melody pulled our little sister onto her lap, her hand sliding up beneath Alicia’s skirt. “Hmm, Cupcake?”
“I guess,” Alicia said.
“Oh, it is,” Melody purred.
Alicia shuddered beside me, her body shivering as I heard Melody’s fingers sink into hot, wet cunt. I groaned, my dick throbbing harder, my tongue licking faster, gathering all the orange juice out of my mom’s cunt I could.
She groaned louder, humping against my face while Alicia panted and Melody nibbled on her neck. I squeezed my mom’s ass, pulling her tight, sucking at her cunt. Her juices flowed into my mouth, the orange flavor diminishing, the spicy musk rising.
“Yes, yes, Mommy’s son is strong. He has three women all panting after him.”
“Soon to be six,” groaned Melody.
“Yes, my sister is aching for it. She’s so mad she’s stuck at school coaching debate.”
Melody gave a wicked giggle while I pictured Aunt Vicky. She was two years my mom’s junior, just as beautiful and almost as busty. Tonight, she would join the harem. She was like mom, a submissive slut in need of a master.
“I’m going to fuck your sister tonight,” I growled at Mom between licks. “I’m going to ram my cock into her cunt. And you’re going to be there watching.”
“Yes,” Mom moaned. “Oh, make her a slut. She needs it.” Mom ground her pussy on my face. “Yes, yes, Mommy wants to watch her big, strong son fuck her sister and her daughters and her nieces. Mommy wants you to fuck them all.”
The SUV rocked as Mom spasmed. Her orgasm surged through her. Juices squirted into my mouth. I gulped them down. They flowed over my chin and spilled down my neck. I was such a sticky mess, and I loved it. I made all my women cum.
“Fuck,” I growled, lifting my face from Mom’s pussy, watching her spasm. “Lets get the groceries put away so I can fuck each and every one of you!”
“Yes,” moaned my Mom. “Mommy needs something bigger than a Popsicle.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leann “Lee” Samuels
I bit into my sandwich, the lettuce so crispy, the turkey had a hint of smoky delight, and the cheese… Provolone. The mustard was spicy and the bread was a rich, whole grain. I moaned as I sat at the island counter in Aunt Cheryl’s kitchen. I was so famished after my ten mile run at the park. I took another bite, groaning in delight.
A mess surrounded me. Lettuce and bread crumbs, and somehow I had gotten a large splotch of mayonnaise on the counter. My legs kicked as I took another bite, feet thudding against the island. The front door rattled, and I tensed. Someone was coming home.
Was it Clint? He would be so mad when he saw the mess. He was soooo uptight about keeping the house clean. I didn’t much see the point in doing any of that. Clint liked cleaning up, and I hated it. So why should I do it when he would just do it anyways?
I took another bite as the footsteps echoed. More than one person was home. I heard Clint say, “I’m going to enjoy…” His words trailed off as he stepped into the kitchen, holding a pair of brown, paper grocery bags wrapped up in his, admittedly, strong arms. His eyes narrowed. He was a tall guy, handsome, I suppose, like Uncle Clinton. He looked a lot like his dead dad, same dark hair, same serious face.
“I see you’ve made a mess, Lee,” he said, words stern.
“Uh-huh, Lint,” I said and took another bite of my sandwich. I chewed loudly. I called him Lint because that was how annoying he was. Behind him came my annoying sister Melody. She did anything Clint wanted because she soooo wanted to jump his bones. I grinned at her through a mouthful of food.
Aunt Cheryl and Alicia followed, both holding more groceries. Aunt Cheryl froze. “Lee, what did you do to my kitchen?”
“Made lunch,” I said as I chewed. “Starving.”
“You are gong to clean up this mess,” Clint said, setting the grocery bags on the far end of the counter, “by the time I finish getting the groceries.”
“And if I don’t, what are you going to do, Lint?”
His face twitched. “I’m going to bend you over my knee, rip down your shorts and panties, and spank your ass while my mom, your sister, and Alicia watch.”
I snorted in laughter. “Right, like Aunt Cheryl would let you do that.”
“He’s the man of the house now, dear,” Aunt Cheryl said. “Just like your Uncle Clinton was before him.”
I blinked at that and took another bite of my sandwich. Uncle Clinton absolutely would have spanked my ass for making a mess and not cleaning it up. But he was dead six months. No one did anything to me now. I could do what I want.
——————-
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