Natasha Joins Paul and Maggie

"You promised you'd wait," Natasha said quite matter of factly as she looked on at her step-daughter looking back at her naked in my arms.

"You're here now, sweetheart. There's still plenty of him to go around. Why don't you get undressed and join us?" Maggie said, breaking from me to go and lie on the bed.

I did not follow, stood and watched Natasha as she undressed, hardly able to comprehend what was about to happen.

Even in the way she disrobed, Natasha retained the grace and elegance of her modelling days. She shed her clothes as a tree shedding autumn fruit in a passing squall, each item inconsequential as it fell from her.

Her tall, lithe beauty made me gawk as she moved towards me, her gait effortlessly casual. But she sashayed right past me to lie on the bed beside Maggie.

"I'm sorry I didn't have time for you earlier, sweetheart. You know what Galen is like!" she said as she eased herself into the younger woman's impatient arms. They appeared to entwine like tow lamia, their limbs appearing elongated in the half-light, the confluence of their torrential hair flowing into one where they lay. Now, as I looked on, their individuality became vague, diminished by the shadow of the four-poster bed's canopy. I was no longer sure which of the two girls I had only moments before been kissing.

As she settled with Maggie, she continued talking. "When the old goat gets something into his head, there's no dissuading him. And then it's me who has to sort it all out,"

"Tell me about it," Maggie said.

"We'll have lots of us time later."

"Promise?"

"Promise," Natasha said, and then kissed Maggie sweetly on the lips again, though longer now, with real passion, her step-daughter returning her kiss with unmistakable fervour.

I began to wonder what my part would be in this equation. And to tell the truth, I put all thoughts of Angie on the backburner.

"When their kiss ended, Natasha seemed to remember me, as if recalling an item, a slice of succulent piece meat purchased for supper but left at the bottom of her shopping bag.

"Oh, Paul. You look crestfallen. Don't be sad, we've not forgotten you — have we Maggie?"

But Maggie was already on her feet, had come to me and taken my hand to lead me over to the bed. I lay between them and allowed their soft and feminine bodies to hem me in. Each sent a leg over one of mine as they turned on their sides to face me, positioning themselves as womanly bookends to hold my **** libido firmly in place.

They selflessly shared me, each kissing me for a moment before allowing the other to appropriate my lips. And while one of their tongues moving between my lips, stirring my tongue to slip and slide against it, the other would send hers to my neck, throat, ears, and chin, until it was her time with my mouth again. There was a rivalry in their kissing, and as they swapped over, I sensed each trying to outdo the other in sheer sensuality.

Their mouths each side of me travelling down my body, their every move choreographed to perfection, their hands roaming at will like a marauding horde. They began to share my cock in the way as they had my lips only minutes earlier, Natash going first and licking the length of it from balls to tip, then moving aside for Maggie who opened wide and took the mass of it deep into her throat. Back and for they passed me until I had to stay their enthusiasm by pushing them both aside before I lost what they had stoked up in me.

Oh, God!