Three Generations of Tits

I accompanied my girlfriend, Laura, to a family get together in California last September. Her two daughters Ellen and Christine and her Mom, Grandma Patricia, were the main reason for our visit. I didn't want to go. I hate family reunions. Moreover, I was hoping to use the opportunity of her absence to get together with some old friends and watch a game or two while having some beers and some laughs. Only, as she has a way of doing, my girlfriend twisted my arm to go by making me feel guilty.

"You never go anywhere with me anymore. Everyone is looking forward to meeting you. My mother hasn't been well lately and this may be the last chance you have to meet her before she..." When she started crying I knew it was time to pack my bag because I was going with her to California.

Except for her two daughters, this will be my first time meeting the rest of the clan, as they are scattered throughout the country. Everyone was invited but not everyone could attend, still there'd be a lot of people there.

The weather was still warm enough to hit the beaches and Laura bought a special bikini for the visit that she was eager to wear. I've only seen her in a bikini once and she wore a cover up the entire time we were at the beach. I was hoping she'd go topless, but she's not like that. She's fair skinned and burns easily and beaches aren't her favorite places, besides she's modest.

Excited nonetheless that she bought a new bikini, I asked her to model her bathing suit for me, but she wouldn't. She said it was a surprise and I thought that oddly exciting. It wasn't like her to be secretive. A bit self-conscious about her aging body, she's been working out lately to tone her muscles and tighten her skin. At 5'5" and a slim 120 pounds, she still looks good, especially for her age.

I suspected she bought the bikini as motivation to get back in shape. I suspected she had an ulterior motive. I suspected she wanted to show her ex-husband and his shockingly young girlfriend that she was still hot at 48-years-old. Women hate it when their man leaves them for a younger woman and it was obvious that she was hoping to make him regret his decision. Not that she would ever want him back; she probably just wanted to play with his mind.

Once I wrapped my brain around Laura wanting me to attend her family reunion and once I realized how important it was for her to have me meet the rest of her family, I rearranged my schedule and agreed to go. Having been to the West Coast only once many years ago, I was eager to see some of the sights I've seen on television, especially Beverly Hills and Rodeo Drive. As it's impossible to get tickets to see the Yankees play ball, perhaps I could catch a Dodgers game, and maybe even play a round of golf.

The weather was picture perfect, in the low eighties with a cool breeze, but the whole airport thing was exhausting. By the time I got to Ellen's house, I was tired and ready for a nap. Traveling makes me feel my age, not that I'm old. I'm just used to my routine of waking up, grabbing some coffee, and surfing the Internet for porn before hitting the shower and dressing for work. This trip was an unwelcome pain-in-the-ass interruption to that.

Up late packing my bag the night before, I was up early adding forgotten items to my suitcase the next morning. Then, per our flight instructions, we needed to be at the airport two hours earlier than our flight and the security lines were long and aggravating. I remember the days when I could get to the airport ten minutes before takeoff and make a mad run down to the gate.

Since 9/11, flying is no longer a pleasant experience. Actually, to be honest, I used to love to fly, but now I'm afraid to fly. I have a habit of scanning the seats for potential terrorists or nut jobs that are intent on blowing up the plane and taking everyone with them because they hate America and Americans, lost their job or divorced their wife or are just crazy. To make matters worse, we had to get on and off the plane twice to catch connecting flights to fly across the country. It never used to be like this. Now, to get a direct flight, you either need to fly in the early hours of the morning or need to pay as much as a first class ticket used to cost. If I could have taken a bus, I would have, but it was too far to bus the trip.

I met her younger daughter, Ellen, several times before. Not having seen her in several years, since she moved away to attend college, it was erotically shocking to see the beautiful woman she had become at 24-years-old. She's living with an architect considerably older that she is. Tom is 32-years-old, but Ellen is very mature for her age.

She shocked the shit out of me when she opened her door to greet us. Overwhelmingly excited at first look, or in my case at first leer, she greeted us at the door wearing just a bikini. This is California after all and LA is much more different than New York. New York is highly stressed and energy charged and LA is, well, laid back and cool. Unless they are looking to be raped, women in New York don't answer their door wearing their bathing suit. The cops in New York would practically side with the rapist saying that she was asking for it.

I gulped down the image of her in one long, lustful look before furtively stealing peeks of her individual body parts, first her breasts, then her pussy, next her legs, and finally her ass after she turned to hug her mother. When she hugged me, it took all the control that I had not to reach down behind her and cup her sweet, round ass, squeeze it and give it a spank, which is what I do every time Laura hugs me. My girlfriend has a great ass for an old broad and her daughters take after her when it comes to their bodacious bodies.

When Ellen hugged me, I imagined having sex with her. I know it was wrong for me to imagine that, but I so wanted to shower her neck with kisses while my hand fondled her bikini clad breast. Her body felt glorious in my arms. Had I not seen that she was wearing her bathing suit, I would have thought she was naked. The thin material of her brief bikini gave me the sensation that she was.

This was my first time feeling and seeing so much of her skin and I forcibly had to look away and concentrate on baseball to avoid getting a woody. Yeah, how 'bout those Yankees, getting ready for their new stadium, they're spending all kinds of money on next year's team. How embarrassing would that be for me to get an erection by seeing and hugging my girlfriend's daughter in her sexy, red bikini? Laura would never understand the sexual desire that I secretly harbored for her daughter nor would she forgive me for such a public display of lascivious behavior that culminated with me getting an obvious erection.

I could just hear her lambasting me now.

"You're such a pig, Paul. How could you? I can't believe you got an erection by hugging my daughter, my baby. That's sick. You're sick."

"Laura, I'm sorry, but she shocked the shit out of me when she answered the door in that little bikini. She was practically naked. The only part of her tits that weren't on display was her nipples. Then, when she hugged me, I could actually feel her erect nipples against my chest," It was when I thought that I was suddenly confessing too much that I threw Ellen under the bus, only it didn't work. "It was all her fault. Blame her and not me. She practically humped me with her hips."

"You're such a pervert Paul."

"Yeah, well, then tell her to put some clothes on the next time she opens the door to a middle-aged man who hasn't had sex with his middle-aged girlfriend in months."

"Everything is not all about sex, Paul," I imagined her saying while giving me that same look she gave me when she caught me surfing the net for porn.

"Everything is all about sex. Why else would fashion designers and clothing manufacturers make a bikini like the one that Ellen was practically not wearing?"

"Degenerate pig."

"Frigid bitch."

Those are the things that I think about it before doing something dumb. Having Laura's indignation in my brain keeps me in line. Otherwise, I'd be a wild man. Otherwise, thinking with my penis instead of my brain, I'd have no conscious thought telling me that it's wrong to do this or that. I'd just do whatever hoping for the best and regretting the repercussions of my immature decisions later.

Yet, there's something visually exciting about a bikini, which is why they make them, no doubt. Sex sells. Come on, the women who wear them know they are teasing and torturing we guys by flaunting their nearly naked bodies. Why else would they do it?

In my opinion, as a testosterone filled normal man, seeing a woman in a bikini is more exciting than seeing a woman in her panty and bra. Panties and bras don't fit women's bodies in the way that bikinis do. Bikinis leave little to the imagination. Although, I may have a different opinion, if ever I was to catch a glimpse of Ellen in her panty and bra. Nonetheless, Ellen was someone who I've met numerous times before and someone who I fantasized about when I was horny and sexually frustrated, while masturbating and wondering what her body looked like beneath her customary attire of jeans and sweatshirt.

Yes, I admit that it added a bit of excitement that she was my girlfriend's daughter, but I think it's normal for a man to wonder about what his girlfriend's adult daughter looks like naked. Surely, if I'm attracted to the mother, why wouldn't I be attracted to her genetically similar, albeit younger, clone of a daughter?

If I didn't feel wicked before that I was old enough to be Ellen's father, I felt wicked now that I had incestuous feelings for Laura's daughter. Well, I wouldn't call what I felt incest, but I certainly had feelings that are forbidden in modern society and considered taboo certainly by Laura and definitely by Ellen. Even though my fantasy and visualization of Ellen's naked body may not be incest, since we are not blood related, my thoughts were incestuous, perhaps. Nonetheless, having sexual thoughts for Ellen made me feel sexually excited and uncomfortable at the same time. She looked wonderful in her bikini and I couldn't wait to jerk off while thinking about her in her bikini later.

In the way that her bikini bra supported her breasts made me acutely aware of what she'd look like topless. She had fabulous tits and she was showing so much of them that she left little to my vivid imagination. I'd love to see her do some jumping jacks or Pilates while wearing her bikini. Just let me get some candid shots of you exercising, I imagined saying to her. Oops, Ellen, your breast just popped out of your bikini. Let me take a few dozen shots of that before you tuck it back in your bra.

The sudden and erotic appearance of Ellen's nipples through the thin material of her bikini top punctuated her excitement in seeing us, after not having seen us in several years, just as the sudden and erotic appearance of her nipples through the thin material of her bikini top punctuated my excitement in seeing them, since I've never seen the impression of Ellen's nipples before. Only, the bikini top, whether it was in the design, the fabric, the color or a combination or all three was visually exciting. It highlighted her tits and her body perfectly.

Her bikini bottom appeared painted on her body and I felt my cock throb when I discerned the outline of her camel toe. Somehow, logically to me and perhaps crazy to someone else, seeing her camel toe made me think of a camel's toe, of course, which led me to thinking about the Sahara Desert, which then led me to feel such a thirst that only a few cold beers could quench while thinking about Ellen naked in an oasis and waiting for me to appear, so much like Lawrence of Arabia, only more like Paul Thomas from New York.

I imagined myself kneeling before her while peeling down her bikini bottom and showing my passion for her by licking her pussy and lapping her pussy juices. Not an odd thing for the mother's boyfriend to think about his girlfriend's daughter when being greeted at the front door by said daughter in a painted on bikini bottom that prominently showed her camel toe, I wondered if she was shaved, trimmed or bushy. Certainly, with a bikini bottom so brief, I deduced that she must be shaved or neatly trimmed, at the very least.

For a second, wondering if Laura looked as good as Ellen surely did at her age; for a moment she made me wish that I was with daughter instead of mother. Seeing Ellen in her bikini made me wish I was 20 years younger or twenty times richer than I was, which wouldn't amount to very much, since I'm not rich at all, just horny.

Now, I was filled with as much guilt as I was filled with curious excitement of what it felt like to be intimate with her daughter. Then, as soon as I imagined that, I wondered what it felt like to be in bed with the both of them. I imagined Laura sitting on my face while Ellen blew me before switching places with Laura blowing me while her daughter sat on my face. Then, I imagined fucking Ellen while eating Laura before switching places with me eating Ellen while fucking Laura. Ah, the possibilities of threesome positions are as exciting, and even more exciting when with mother and daughter, as they are endless.

I couldn't help but wonder if her daughter sucked cock as well as her mother. Laura was a great cocksucker, that is, whenever she sucked my cock, but it had been quite some time since we've been intimate. We both work crazy jobs with long hours and are always too tired to do anything but sleep. Only, for me, the benefit of sleep is exciting, as I always have vividly realistic, sexual dreams.

Suddenly, I visualized Ellen sucking her boyfriend's cock before imagining her sucking my cock and before imagining my girlfriend sucking Tom's cock, Ellen's boyfriend. I'm just so tired. I'm just so horny. The combination of being so tired and so horny and then seeing Ellen in her revealing bikini encouraged these wild imaginings. In thinking about group sex with mother and daughter, where will my sexual perversion end? I surprise myself daily with my lascivious thoughts and lurid imagination. Now, I couldn't wait to take a nap later so that I could dream of having sex with Ellen and then jerk off about my dream later. Yes, indeed, the nap would do well to satisfy both my need for sleep and my need to cum.

We were the last of the guests to arrive and everyone was already out back poolside. I had to continually remind myself not to stare at Ellen's young, hard, curvaceous body, a copy of her mother's body...only younger, harder, and more curvaceous. Sorry, the drool in my brain is making me repeat myself. It was difficult not to stare at her round, tight, perfect little ass. I wondered what it felt like to grab her ass, squeeze her ass, kiss her ass, lick her ass, and slap her ass while my cock was imbedded deep inside of her pussy.

As her future stepfather, I was outraged that a retail store took advantage of my future stepdaughter by selling her this brief bikini. Ellen should demand a full refund or partial compensation in the form of a discount, as her bikini bottom covered even less of her beautiful ass cheeks than her top barely covered her firm, round breasts; shame on them for being so greedy to make a bikini with so little material. Only, as her mother's boyfriend, I was excitedly happy, ecstatic actually, that a retail sold her such a tiny bikini that allowed me the delightful vision of most of the Ellen's round ass and big tits.

When she walked, her bikini bottom gave the appearance more of a thong than it did a bikini bottom and she played her peek-a-boo game of now you see my ass and now you don't see my ass by continually pulling her bikini bottom out of her ass crack. Now ordinarily when it comes to drugs, I say no to crack, but in this instance when it comes to sex, I'd say yes to crack.

I couldn't suppress the image of bending her over the bathroom sink while plunging my cock in her oh so young pussy. Bark like a dog, baby, bark like a dog, I imagined saying while slapping her firm, round ass. I couldn't help myself from stealing furtive glances at her ass and barely bra clad tits, whenever I saw that the coast was clear and whenever no one was watching me.

Her bikini was as revealing as those worn by those bronzed bodies of Brazilian babes lying on the beautiful beaches in Brazil. Suddenly, in my mind, I started to do the Bossa Nova as The Girl From Ipanema song played along with my imagined dancing steps, "Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking and when she passes, each one she passes goes -- ah."

There were a lot of people poolside, Laura's two brothers Jim and Larry and their wives Susan and Maryanne, a couple of Ellen's friends, Linda and Kathy with their boyfriends Russell and Anthony, grandma Patricia with her new boyfriend, Martin, and Laura's ex-husband Robert with his oh so young and oh so beautiful trophy wife, Cynthia. He ought to be ashamed. She wasn't much older than his elder daughter, Christine. I have socks older than her.

"Everyone," said Laura. "This is my boyfriend, Paul."

I couldn't help but notice that every woman present was wearing a bikini, even Grandma Patricia was showing some boob and ass cheek. Way to go grandma. Go ahead, don't be shy, give those big, old knockers a shake. Gees, if only people knew what I was thinking and what goes through my mind, they'd be aghast. They'd think I was a real pervert for thinking about Laura's daughter and now Laura's mother in the way that I'm leering at their bikini clad bodies.

"Hi," I said walking over to everyone and shaking hands with the men and giving touchy feely hugs to the women. I love the feel of pressed tits against my chest. Whoever it was who invented the bikini should be given an award, a Piece Award, instead of a Peace Award.

"I hereby bestow the Piece Award of Ass, Tits, and Pussy to Jacques Heim and Louis Reard. Of course, I should have known that it would be two horny Frenchmen who invented the bikini in 1946 and named it after Bikini Island. Only, why they named the bikini after Bikini Island is a mystery to me. Perhaps because Bikini Island is so small compared to the vast ocean, yeah, maybe that's it. I'm just glad they invented the tiny, revealing swimsuit.

Even though I had talked to her brothers and her mother on the telephone several times before this was the first time meeting them and their significant others. It was fun to substitute how I had imagined they looked with how they actually looked. Her brothers were taller than I had imagined them to be and their wives were prettier. Her mother still looked hot for a woman in her sixties.

Her ex-husband's girlfriend just made me want to bite down on a towel to suppress my verbal lustful desire for her bodacious, bikini clad beautiful body. Damn, she was hot. She had all the good looks and sexuality of a Playboy Playmate laying around poolside before heading off for her photo shoot. I couldn't help but wonder if her tits were real or if they were the creative artistry of a very talented plastic surgeon.

Certainly, they looked real enough, except realistically, no one has tits that look like that, so round, so high up, and so perfectly symmetrical with nipples that never tire of flashing their bright high beams. I wondered what her tits looked like without her over the shoulder boulder holder. I wished I could see her topless. I wished I could see her naked instead of only imagining what she'd look like in the 69 position.

We were all having a fun time out back talking, drinking, swimming, and eating while I was spending most of my time leering. After inspiring even more suggestive images of Laura's daughters naked, the alcohol was lulling me to sleep. I was suddenly feeling tired and ready for a nap. If I couldn't have sex with either of my girlfriend's daughters, there was nothing stopping me from dreaming about having sex with them. No one would know that I was banging Laura's daughters in my dreams.