ALICE Ch 162

The shoot ends and Sasha hurriedly climbs off.

“OK,” a mortified Alice announces, sitting up and covering her exposed privates with her hand. “I’m getting dressed.”

“No!”

Suddenly it’s the photographer on top of her. She all but grapples Alice to the ground, taking several shots of her face.

“Yes! Yes!” the photographer squeals as she snaps away happily.

“Seriously,” Alice begins, intending to issue a threat, but the photographer has what she needs. She hops off and the assistants offer Alice a robe.

“Thank you. Praise Jesus,” Alice mutters, tying the belt as she strides straight to the changing room, trying to hide or at least push down the tent in the robe. Someone’s going to answer for this. Not just the craziness of the shoot, but Sasha’s unexpected appearance. Although, Alice supposes, the contract allows Diorgasm to pose her with pretty much anyone. At least it was someone cute.

She enters her changing room and freezes.

Sasha stands beside her mother, Irina.

Sasha’s still naked. Irina wears one of her glamorous rich lady skirt and top combos. Cosette is over by the vanity, leaning with a glass of wine in hand.

Surprise, nudity, and how happy Irina and Sasha look to see her are enough to temper Alice’s irritation.

She stops, still holding her erection down. Confused and embarrassed, she’s not sure what to do.

“Guys?” She doesn’t get any farther than that because Irina’s speaking.

“I wanted to congratulate you,” she says, seizing control over the conversation and Alice’s attention. “Winner of the Monaco Grand Prix.”

“Thanks,” Alice says, then looks down sharply. Sasha’s on her knees. Alice casts a panicked look at Irina as Sasha boldly pulls open the robe. There’s no pretense and really not even any hesitation. No surprise from Cosette either, but Alice is in no condition to notice that. She gasps as she feels Sasha’s mouth, and can only watch, heart racing, as Irina kneels beside her daughter.

Sweat dripping down her face, Alice finds herself in a staring contest with Cosette as two tongues cover her cock in saliva.

Cosette looks quietly pleased. It’s not smug, exactly. Why isn’t it smug? This is obviously the result of some scheming. Alice can’t have any thoughts more complex than that under the circumstances. Maybe Cosette’s turned on. That seems likely.

Alice tries to focus. The robe is on the floor; Irina’s sucking while Sasha is trailing kisses down Alice’s thigh.

Alice sighs, muscles flexing. Now the look that Cosette is giving her is almost expectant.

Irina stops sucking, elegantly wiping away the string of sticky saliva clinging to her lips.

Alice finds Sasha gazing up at her adoringly.

It’s not just Cosette; there’s a lot of expectation in the air. Alice sees Irina’s hand resting lightly on Sasha’s back. Irina looks just as worked up as her daughter, but she’s fully clothed. It’s obvious what they want. Irina is here to get her daughter laid.

Should Alice take the hint and give Sasha what she wants?

Or do Irina instead?