Identical Twins and Father Ch. 06

Before he could decide, her sister's hand let go of his cock and reached passed him and rubbed her hip. She liked that too in her dream, humming again, and again, when his hand squeezed her breast. He didn't want to upset her dream; it was so delightful to wonder what it was about, that she could include his and her sister's touching her.

Her sister was less considerate – or maybe not, wanting her to have something better than just a dream. Did girls have wet dreams? Her sister's hand rubbed more. His fingers found her aroused nipple. She moaned, enjoying the additional arousal, but then snorted, He envisioned her wry expression, when her hand clasped over his on her breast, and she chuckled, murmuring:

"Not a dream, better."

"I hope so," he murmured, his fingers trying to underline his response.

She hummed, nodding, murmuring:

"It will be, if it is anything like before."

She rolled back towards him, humming. Her sister moved back, letting her straddle him with her legs. She moaned and found his mouth with hers. He grasped her ass, and they kissed, tongues fucking, until his cock was again as aroused as before, twitching between her thighs. They didn't need her sister's help to find where they both wanted it to be.

Then it was like before, moans and chuckles. He wanted it be, to be fair, and she wanted it to be, and her sister also wanted it to be. His hands had been holding the cheeks of her ass the whole time, but then her sister's hand slid over his. He didn't have to encourage it. Her sister also recognized immediately what she was going to feel, then responding with growling chuckle.

Then it was like before, their hips having to rock, fucking, slapping together. He thought that he had come as good as before with her sister. She certainly came as good as her sister had.

While they were recovering, their stomachs heaving against each other, he felt her sister roll closer again, her arm around her sister, hugging her. He didn't know if he should be proud that he had given them both what they wanted, or whether he should be thankful that they had known how to let him. He preferred the latter idea, but then disliked the thought that he was blaming them for their so incestuous relationship.

He and whichever daughter dozed off, her sister too. It was that one who aroused them again, arousing her sister, and she then, him, nodding on his shoulder with hum. They all sighed with hums, a few times. Then they got up. No one wanted to turn on the light, but they had to find their clothes. The girls didn't let him see which of them had the little mole, only facing him with smiles, when they had their panties on. They all still didn't want to speak, but when they were dressed, he murmured: "I'll call a taxi for you; you were at that party."

The girls nodded with smiles, still not speaking. He ordered the taxi. When they heard it approach, the only car at that hour, the girls embraced him, not kissing, still not speaking. He didn't either. Anything they could have said would have sounded trite; they all knew how much they enjoyed what they did – what they shouldn't do.

The girls left. He wondered if they would ever be together like that again, if they would want to, need to, if they could do it all with Richard and Guillaume - "Dick" and "Willie"? He went back in the bedroom and undressed, finding the bed very empty.

They were eighteen plus,
Quite old enough.
They had the pill,
did what girls will.

They were not so tall,
but also not small.
They had nice round cheeks,
Below their eyes,
Above their thighs,
- strong firm young thighs -
And on their chests,
Had nice round breasts,
With nipples, of course,
Right in the middle,
- And not so little -
Just where they should be,
Most pleasant to see,
In their clothes, of course.

But without their cloths,
They were even more fetching,
Like models who pose
For an artist's nude etching:
Those breasts, those nipples,
Rosy, their cheeks then too,
When they'd bared them to view
With bashful smiles, but eyes
A twinkle; between their thighs
They knew quite well,
Their mons did swell,
Hidden by hair,
More brown than fair,
And knew as well,
Too shy to tell,
Just modestly blushing,
Within it that pleasure
It gave – with whomever!
More reason, their flushing!