Amy, of course.

I stared at them both, looking from the sweet and innocent face of my blonde, pixie-cut haired little sister, and my curvy, big titted Mom.

My eyes were pulling at me, constantly focusing on the light pink of Amy’s lips. I knew that I had made my choice.

Quietly I approached the breakfast bar, wondering how exactly I was going to angle myself to get my load into the glass on its raised surface. As I headed towards Amy, stroking my cock slowly as I approached, my sneaking feet bumped lightly into the stool next to her.

It was made of chromed metal, with welded on foot bars skirting the bottom of it for you to rest your feet on as you sat at the table. I decided to stand on them, quietly raising myself a foot higher thanks to their placement, just high enough to nearly plonk the tip of my quivering cock right inside her glass.

From my vantage point Amy seemed even smaller than normal, and in her position, talking happily away to Mom, I could look down at her cute face as I silently stroked myself.

It wasn’t long before I was ready to burst, watching as she took a small sip from the glass and placing it back in the same position, my flood gates opened and a torrent of white and sticky sperm squirted out of the end of my invisible shaft and made a light plop noise as it dropped into the liquid in her glass.

I grinned as I lowered myself from my position, noticing that my spunk had not mixed well with the orange and was forming a separate layer at the top of the glass. It made her orange look more like a Mai Tai cocktail, but instead of rum there was cum.

I giggled silently at the rhyme, watching Amy closely, hoping she would take a deep drink.

She grabbed the glass and placed it to her lips, taking a long gulp and lowering the glass. Her pink lips had gained a pearlescent sheen that made my cock twitch. She licked them, closing her eyes and savouring the taste and then smiling happily.

“You can get this OJ again Mom, it tastes amazing,” she said in appreciation.

Mom smiled in reply, coming over to the breakfast bar from the other side and reaching her hand out.

“Mind if I try some?” she asked, “I don’t want to have to pour myself a glass out.”

Reluctantly Amy passed her the glass, keeping her eye on Mom as the older woman placed it to her lips. She sipped lightly, then a bit more greedily, smacking her now glossy lips in appreciation.

“You know, I think that’s the best orange juice I’ve ever tasted,” she smiled, hesitating only slightly as she passed her daughter the glass back.

Amy gratefully snatched the glass from her mom’s hand, tilting her head back and swallowing the remainder.

I smiled inwardly as I savoured the mental image.

With the show over I decided to head back upstairs. I didn’t want Amy or my mom to come looking for me and find nothing more than a pile of my clothes….

Well, maybe not Mom, but the thought of catching Amy spread on my bed again had me rock hard by the time I had reached the landing.