Poppets: The Melting Storm: Thunder

It had been a long and very hot summer. Whenever mom was way dad and I would play. Sometimes he would dress up, sometimes I would. We'd each either wear mom's clothes, but we'd also been slowly buying our own clothes.

It was a wonderful thing to see my father in a pink bikini, modeling for me. I loved his cock poking just out of the bottom, ready to play.

We'd gotten a little more risky with it too. We kissed each other behind mom's back. Once I gave him a hickey while she wasn't looking. Sometimes we sat watching movies, jerking each other off underneath the blanket, whispering how we'd want to be this girl or that girl.

Once dad asked me into the garage, where he was pretending to fix the car. He sucked me off as I talked to mom through the doorway.

We knew we were probably going to get caught, but we didn't care. Especially because we both kept hearing the voice of the Duchess, as if she had come home to live with us, a spirit right within our home.

As I said, it was a long hot summer. It had been thirty days without rain. Then, one summer afternoon, a deluge began. Mom had gone out to get groceries, so dad and I decided it was time to play.

"You put on mom's wedding dress," dad told me, "and I'll put on the one I got online."

"Yes my love," I said, and kissed dad on the lips, as was our habit when alone.

We met, in our dresses, in the living room. I was about to kiss daddy's tits, when the door swung open.

"The bridge is out," mom said. Then she stopped, stared at us, and walked into the house.

"I--" I didn't know what to say. Neither did my father.