Slut that I was, I was enjoying myself, and if that meant fucking my daughter, my son, or anyone else, then that was just fine. If it meant being pros...ituted by my son, if it meant him prostituting my daughter, I didn’t care. I should have. A month ago I would have screamed, no! Now, well now I would scream, yes! I handed her my heels, and crept upstairs, where my husband lay half asleep, his cock sticky from his daughter. I slipped under the duvet.“What came over you last night?” I asked.“Well. Friday morning started early as my alarm woke me up from my sleep between Fiona and Alice and I nudged them both to wake them up. I told them to do us a big breakfast as they’d likely be busy and probably not have much time to eat.Once I’d polished off a huge full English and they’d cleaned the table and washed the pots I sat them down on the sofa to explain what I wanted them to do.“Ok today were going to play a little game, or should I say you two will being playing a little game”They both. More

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