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So both Maryellen and Esterr came to Irene and told her to get naked, and on the same table her daughter was on, so she did so.Irene now lay naked right beside her naked daughter as Esterr left the cabin with a bucket as Irene was questioning Maryellen where she was going and why?Maryellen only aknowledged that she'd soon find out and it would damn good pleasure for her.Minutes later Esterr returned and put the bucket at Irene's feet and said spread your legs wide apart and get them feet up on the table and scoot yourself down and get that ass of yours right on the edge and I sure gots something that's gonna' give you mind blowing pleasure.Irene did this her long legs pulled up and feet on the tables edge her ass now right on the edge as Esterr had ordered, and with that said and done, Esterr reached right into that bucket and pulled a swamp eel twice as big as the ones she'd used on her daughter Maryanne.Irene's eyes shot open in awe and fear alike as the thing flopped and wiggled. ." The totally devilish smile she gave Sean only emphasized her true beauty. Sean took her hand and kissed the palm, watching her eyes as he did so. Vicky tilted her head back, closed her eyes and let the sensation of his lips on her palm move increase the already high level of erotic tension. Her own pussy throbbed, and she could only imagine how much sexual torment Monica felt at that moment. For both of them, she knew, the torment would only increase, and the anticipation only added to the torment. At that moment, Monica returned. Bra in hand, shoulders back, breasts pushed out, her hard, pink nipples and dark brown areolae clearly visible under the white blouse. Vicky gasped. "Baby, you are magnificent!" She stood up and hugged Monica, and then kissed her on the lips. Pulling back, she sat Monica down, and took her seat on her own stool. "Monica, I am very proud of you. Put your bra on the table, please." "Yes, Sir." She put the bra beside the panties and continued to.
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The mother was nice, the younger sister, edible, looking like a walking fuck toy. Kat, the younger sister offered a cleavage shot whenever I looked her way and wasn’t afraid to rub those D cups on my arm as she passed. Marge’s next older sister, was a total dyke and also not afraid to make sure the world and I knew it. The oldest girl was married to a nice, gutless guy, but he had no backbone or opinions of his own. I think pussy-whipped is an applicable term here. Dad was another story entirely. 100% Indian, and very closed mouthed, barely spoke to me. Several weekends, we’d go to her home and eat Sunday roast beef.The strangest part, [at this point] was each girl had a part in making dinner. One would take out the roast, thaw it and sear it in a pan. The next sister, would cut up the veggies and Marge would put it in the oven and start the timer.I kinda thought this was a neat delegation of work, at least at the time, but the routine nor the chore for each ever changed. Dad seldom.

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