Chica

Chica sees you looking at her. She guffaws. “Seriously? OK. But I’m not taking my top off.” She hops onto the desk and leans back, legs together.

“Oooh. I like it,” Piper says, aiming your cock. She strokes you with both hands, finally getting serious with a vigorous tempo. You grab her shoulder to steady yourself.

Chica seems curious. Skeptical, even.

Piper, meanwhile, has come to life. It looks like the idea of you cumming on Chica really does it for her. She moves a little closer to you, still pulling.

“Special, one-time deal,” she mutters. “You can grab my boob if it’ll help.”

You can’t think clearly, but you could get shot in the head and still have enough sense not to pass that up. You move your hand from her shoulder, wrapping your arm around her and taking a handful of her left breast. She’s got a bra on under the tee, but it’s still a warm and heavenly handful. No one in your family has breasts like Piper’s. You squeeze like you mean it and feel her breath on your neck.

You groan and Chica goes stiff as you cover her slim, olive thighs with white ropes. Piper laughs delightedly as she thoroughly milks you until it oozes out to land on Chica’s knee and dribble down her leg.

Chica’s breathing hard and blushing as you lean on the table to steady yourself.

No one says anything. Piper hands Chica a roll of paper towels.