"Yes."

“Yes…” Lydia felt the word eagerly fall out of her mouth without a thought, her lips smacking around the edges of the head of the cock, her tongue lapping it’s edge for emphasis of her answer before she suckled it back between her lips.

And delved, hard, deep, holding, pushing, wanting, feeling she was missing one key part. Some obvious thing that had rolled through her mind all day.

Coming back up for air, nibbling and stroking the shaft Lydia could see the audience increasingly freed to act. Slowly the shadow of concealment seemed to be retreating from some of them as they touched themselves, or in the case of a few, each other.

Looking down at herself Mary began to question just how weird her dreams were getting, as she was first able to recognize she was indeed naked. Gazing about she felt as if some hold on the focal display had been released on the audience as it began to increasingly stir. She felt like there was some scent on the air, teasing, yet eluding her nose, the air felt heavier, more humid, yet strangely pushier in some other way.

Mary tried to focus on some of these strangely real senses in her dream, incoherent whispers teased at her ear their words coherent and clear before slipping from her mind as if rain drops impacting and flowing off a window. A trail left in their wake, but no imprint of their landing.

Glancing at her mother’s worship of the shadowy figure’s cock Mary shook her head and bit her lip. She felt on edge, buzzing with need, Mary tried to focus on it. It seemed suddenly gone, Mary questioning how she got back to admiring her mother's worship of the cock. Mary questioned a sudden desire to see it erupt across her mother's face.

The weight of the air brought to mind the idea of letting her knees buckle beneath her, dropping her to a less obvious height to gaze upon the other figures, and the more than one ever more obvious cock being stroked about.

God she needed one… Mary couldn’t believe the loudness of the declaration the thought had in her mind, stomping through ideas to reach out and just start stroking one, to crawl into nuzzling her face into one, and sucking it until they fucked her.

Several of the silhouettes seemed to pair off easily, a couple lone figures left slowly straying together as the room kept watching the show despite their actions, as if they were all waiting for one final command to unleash them.

Mary surveyed the audience, she felt like these were all familiar figures in passing, yet couldn't place a finger on any of them.

One approached the rear of her mother on all fours, the shadows concealing him dissipating as he stroked a hand across Lydia’s ass. It reared up into the grope, her bent forward figure, kissing across her ass, up her back, feeling across her hips, and around to cup a breast.

All as Lydia remained focused moaning pleasurably into the cock, struggling, fighting the gagging, the gasping, the urge to rise for breath once more.

Mary should’ve had a momentary pause at the figure of Karl, one of the neighbours kids groping her mom’s body. Strangely all she could do was admire his figure, the hard on in his hand, and watch with trepidation as she wondered if he was actually going to put it in.

Questioning if he’d fuck her mother… Questioning why she wanted to know, to see if he would... Questioning if he’d fuck her next…

“May I?” The words were whispered timidly upon Lydia’s left ear, the inexperienced stroke of a cock across Lydia’s pussy telling her exactly the inquiry.

The question finally giving her the answer she sought.