Chapter 37

It occurred to me as we descended the bizarre transformation my ‘normal’ had undergone. Four topless sisters in tie-on panties, three stark naked girls, one of which was my daughter, another girl bare from the cellophane miniskirt up and a woman in a cellophane, right tit revealing, single-sided (½) toga, as far-fetched as it sounded, was not out of my ordinary. I didn’t pick the wardrobe, but I had no objections either.

Nor did I object to the effect cool underground temperatures had on certain girl parts.

In the subterranean transit mansion, I gave the marching orders. “Me on point, next are Amy and Charity, then Cynthia, Janine and Elaine. Behind those three are Felicia and Mitzi, with Bonnie and Connie on drag. I see no reason to expect trouble, but you never know whom we might run into today. Stay alert, stay aware, weapons handy.”

Felicia, Charity and Janine were seeing this jewel for the time. I gave them a few moments to soak it in. “What you think of my sub-basement?”

“I can’t believe I got hired here! Is this really a semi-secret government infestation? A Top Secret hideout? They sent me a badge, ID cards, this cool wallet deal like the Special Agents in the movies have.”

“You did. Not semi-secret, totally secret, private, not government and you are a Special Agent, not like the movies, but like when you get hurt, you stay hurt.”

“Daddy! This is all yours? Wowwy.”

“It’s not on the blueprints but I own the mineral rights and this jewel is under the building with my name on the deed.” I told my naked daughter, “Rumor has it that one similar tunnel existed underground between Fifth and Madison Avenues. As far as I know, it has not been unearthed. The beyond-wealthy are good at keeping secrets.”

“Just like we need to be.” Amy cautioned. “You OK with that, Janine?”

“Yes, I can see writing stories set in a place like this. Of course mine would be under ‘Lexington’ Avenue or Wall Street. Lexington Avenue has a subway already, so the railroad would have to be fiction. This is the real fabled uber exclusive railroad of the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Century gazillionaires, is it not?”

“Yes. The owners pulled up the tracks and built a nice walking and driving surface. But otherwise, you would be right. We know of four stops. Booth Station, where we are. To the north is something called ‘The Full Service Department’, next is Ryan Station. Beyond that, a much larger facility is collapsed under the burned Japanese restaurant. That may be the one used by the Astors, or there could be another stop further north. We haven’t been in the south tunnel. If there are more stops, other unknown homes, Lincoln Center, Penn Station or Grand Central come to mind. It might curve west to the main line by the river. I suppose it’s collapsed or closed off, otherwise we would up to our necks in tourists.” I shrugged. “I think it should stay closed and forgotten.”

Amy repeated the caution. “That means that it may not be mentioned, even indirectly, outside of the house or we could lose it. Sir will be very unhappy and you do not want to make him unhappy. It is not pretty.”

“We can admire the scenery another day, my pretties. Form up and move out.”

“Sir, yes sir, Major Bro.” Connie came to attention, giving me a British Army style salute, copied instantly by the other eight.

“I got yer ‘Major Bro’ right here, Ensign.”

“You certainly do.” Bonnie laughed. “We have to remain at attention until you salute back. Care to inspect the troops?”

“That would take hours. It’s already noon.” Returning the salute, I said “As you were. We have places to be and people to see. To the tunnel, girls, we’re outta here.”

Once in the tunnel, the mostly naked girls were all business. Less than five minutes later, we dropped the cutting tools in front of the ‘The Full Service Department’. I explained what was behind the door. “This has to be the best of the Prohibition Era speakeasies, where the very, very rich played. The rust on the hinges and lock bars tell us that this is a time capsule, sealed just after Repeal. A frozen chunk of legend. I’m hoping they left everything in situ.”

“What those walls must have witnessed. Thanks for the chance to see the unveiling.” Janine said. “A historian like Portia would have been a better choice, though. Why me? Why any of us?”

“The history will take care of itself. Today is about you having fun after the emotional roller coasters we rode last night.” I answered, “Amy is here because she deserves a mini-vacation away from the house and I like her company. My sisters and Charity are here for a little family bonding. Felicia and Mitzi asked me in the shower. How could I say ‘no’ to two more naked girls?”

“Six girls took a lot more than an emotional thrill ride in the past few hours. Another looks about ready to get her ticket punched.” Amy laughed.

Mitzi is even cuter when she blushes.

“You said ‘no’ quickly enough this morning.” Janine commented. “It wasn’t the first time either, I suspect. You changed gears too readily.”

“Sex is great fun, Janine. It can be edgy, shocking, revelatory, extreme even. But it has to be fun for everyone involved. If it’s making love, having sex or simply fucking like crazed monkeys, there has to be some sort of shared spark. It might be affection, excitement, exploration or companionship. But each partner, or group of partners, knows the score going in. Mostly, I have to be convinced it is the right thing at the right time, and not just for me. And without exception, for whatever reason, we parted as lifetime friends, no regrets.”

Janine chuckled in her unique bawdy way. “I’ve watched Cecilia, Claudia, Justine, Rochelle, Yvonne and Portia bubble and squirm for years. Your timing and style were perfect for them. No regrets indeed! You read Riza and Faye better than I ever did, but looking back, it was like the surprise twist at the end of a good mystery they should have seen coming. It makes the ending even sweeter for the revelation.” Now she laughed shamelessly. “I just named eight former virgins and it did not sound weird at all. I can’t wait until Bailey Whelan sees you. That girl is ripe for the plucking.”

“Tell me about this pluckable Bailey.” I grinned. “Details. I need details.”

“OK, you randy boy. Specializes in dance and dramatic costume design. Twenty-two maybe, short perhaps 4’11”, certainly under five feet, pale green eyes and the most startling snow white hair, white as your Max and Kelli’s hair and ‘C’ cup tits. That enough details for you?”

“You girls always give me tit sizes. Not that the info is unwelcome and not to minimize the importance of a nice rack, but you are more than your boobs. Attitude? History? Orientation? Complete package, a girl is greater than the sum of the parts.” I gestured to Mitzi. “Look at her, since she seems to invite thorough appraisal. Mitzi doesn’t have big tits, but they make her the special and perfectly unique person she is. Talk to me.”

“Shy, except when doing costume fittings. No history to speak of, and straight but curious. Seems to think Airwear is an idea late in coming.” She smiled. “No attitude I can discern. Bailey acts pretty open to new experiences. I don’t think she has gotten the right offer. Might not have the experience to recognize it.”

“I like how you say ‘your Max and Kelli’. I do, in fact, consider all of the girls under my protection ‘mine’.”

“As, I notice, do they.” Janine agreed, “Your Amy and Felicia must be right, there is an air about you, Pied Piper.”

“I don’t know about the ‘air’, but life is never dull. Back on topic, Tara triggered all the alarms. No version of fun was an option. Nothing was right for the wrong reasons. I’m a lot of things. Sadist is not on the list. I was not ready and never will be ready to give anyone what she asked for. Tara wasn’t ready. She has no idea how cruel some people are. It was wrong on every level imaginable.” I sighed. “Faye is a slightly submissive innocent beauty who needs to see the outside world for what it is. That said, she is a hell of a lot of fun. Mitzi is looking at a world bigger and more varied than she was lead to believe. There is fun to be had. That is all good on most any level.”

I stopped for a second. “Mitzi, I apologize for talking about you in the third person, but you and Faye, with newly opened eyes, will be happy people on your own terms. Tara is a tragedy looking for a place to happen. All of us, as friends and humans, owe her the time and understanding she will need to build respect for herself and redirect that demon. She desperately needs to know her worth as a person and creative force. She is smart enough to recognize false praise. We are smart enough to be honest and bring her along naturally. Tara Rooney is worth the effort.”

“Now you get to see his dominant protective side. Try to hurt Tara and you will not be loving your shortened life. And he hardly knows her. In his eyes, she has great value simply because she is Tara Rooney. That is the side we unconditionally love the most.” Amy declared. “Understand that and you understand us.”

The topic changed when we entered Ryan Station. “And here we are. This is Ryan Station. Say what you will about the ultra wealthy of yesteryear, they had an elegance we can never duplicate. Next stop was under the Square, now a giant tomb.”

“This is about more than money. This is all about power. Social, political and industrial power in amounts of which we cannot conceive.” Amy noted with a degree of awe. “After the last two weeks, I can sympathize with their urge to isolate themselves from the riff-raff, especially since a significant percentage of the riff-raff are trying to kill me.”

“How ‘bout we collect the riff-raff up top, talk to Mrs. Ryan and check out the Speakeasy?” Bonnie nudged, “Forget the international terrorist threat. Curiosity is killing me now. Do we have to call for the car?”

“No. This elevator has controls at both ends and in the car.”

“Any chance we could, like, you know, use those controls?” Connie finished. “Make with the old up and down?”

“I have controls at both ends. You can try mine and see what pops up or if I go down, Bro.” Cynthia snickered. You can ride my car anytime, anywhere.”

“Sir, we really should go up and see what surprises are there. Something tells it’s not just the five flashbacks we expected.” She smiled that enigmatic smile of hers. “Nothing definite, just things not said.”

She pointed to the actual elevator, motioning to the group.

“Like oblique references on postcards, the Colonel mentioning the Academy’s unspecified recruits, playmates my girls may have kept in touch with, and the other two instructors, Astrid and Audrey, things not said.” I opened the door and waited.

“The more, the merrier. I need to take their pictures anyway.” Amy grinned, “Reckon Celeste and Nell have them dressed properly?”

“Improperly dressed is more like it. You don’t know these girls as well as I do. Two girls in particular I’ve never seen in clothes.” I laughed out loud. “Airwear just gives all of them better tools and easier excuses to do what they always wanted to do.”

“I might know them better than you think, Sir. You did put me in charge of your journals.” She laughed. “I love history and yours is the best I’ve ever read. You’ve hardly touched it since Patty got here, so we girls have been keeping track of Zephyr House instead.”

“Yikes! That’s scary. I don’t have any secrets, do I?”

“Nope. But, you never pretended to be anything except what you are.” Amy reached into her bag. “Two messengers delivered packets just before you came down after your shower. One from Mrs. Ryan and one from a Rosalina deNapoli. Both had cover letters addressed to me suggesting strongly that I have you read them before you meet with anyone. Something tells me you should pay attention.”

“That’s really scary. Take the other girls up to the lobby. The key to the door at the top of the stairs is on the wall next to the light switch. Ask Nell to arrange transport for Karen and Phoebe and send Minerva, Celeste and Karen down when Karen arrives. The kids should stay home. I have a feeling this note from Rosalina is a time bomb.”

“And the note from Mrs. Ryan follows-up what the Colonel said about the room allocations?”

“I hope. If it is more, I want Celeste to know first.” Addressing the traveling group, who surely had overheard the whole conversation, “Janine, you and Mitzi will be meeting Sally and Quincy who will be joining the Performing Arts Department as dance instructors. Kimberly and Kristin will be in the Art Department as CGI and photo/graphic teachers. It would be a good idea to get up with Astrid and Audrey to get them oriented. Felicia, five will get you ten that Maya and Patsy are here to join Phoebe and you at the RIA Clinic.”

“And Minerva, Buffy and Heather will have to caucus with Eve, Jean and Jane, the other Zephyr Airwear girls and the Bright Stars. Subsets of subsets: Dancers, gymnasts, designers, martial artists, art artists, physical sciences, computing, assorted families, managers, I feel like we are fragmenting.”

“Not any more than we are naturally. Does your involvement in RIA mean you will stop being my executive assistant or quit being Ellie’s sister or Caralyn’s friend? Eve is not just an Airwear person, but a dancer, linguist and warrior. Everyone is in several subsets. The things we have in common aren’t going away. Really, we’re just one huge family set.” I ushered them into the car and pulled the door closed. “Get the Baxters and Bakers to check our Airwear website. We probably have a backlog of photos to vet and post. Beth ought to clear the model releases. Maggie and Luz should get involved, too. Go!”

I could still hear the conversation as they began the ascent slowly.

“Not just huge, Amy, but incredibly varied.” Janine said, sweeping her arms. “Four sisters, from teens to Armed Forces veterans, a young daughter, two teachers, one in her twenties, one in her teens, a medical doctor who was Mark’s first, coming to join a mini-hospital headed by another world famous doctor who is the mother of two more daughters and you, art historian, head of his house.”

She started giggling like a schoolgirl, “Three are voluntarily naked, the doctor, a teacher/coach who is, incidentally, an Olympic gymnast, and a daughter, the four sisters and you are topless and I’m wearing a transparent single-sided, tit baring toga thing. This an astonishingly easy family to fall into.”

“Tell me about it.” Charity laughed, “As I count it, Daddy has had his big old dick in eight of your staff and four more who are joining the faculty. And every girl will come back for more! Ask Felicia.”

“To be fair, Sir never interfered in a committed relationship, gay or straight. Instead, they give their daughters to him. Lulu, Celeste, Polly, Holly, Elaine, Cynthia, Frieda, Vicki and Kelli come to mind. No girl or woman who ever had a previous mate is attracted sexually to him, currently attached or not. Janine, you seriously loved your husband and will never be more than a very good friend to him, nor do you want to be more. Riza’s marriage was never consummated, so she is not a surprise.”

The gossip faded as Amy was calling Zephyr House to talk to Phoebe and Karen. I didn’t want to hear the rest. I know who I am. The analysis I could do without. If it got weirder, she would call.

The packet from Judith was not what I figured, but it was. She wanted to retire to another of her family properties. I could buy Ryan House for a song (for New York) if the money went into a trust for Celeste. The office building above the ‘Full Service Department’ was part of the deal. Celeste and I (not my holding company) would own it together and split the rental income in perpetuity. There was access to the sub-basement from the speakeasy but not to the regular upper basement, which contained the maintenance mechanicals for the building.

I could deal with that if the management company continued as it was. Monte would oversee the books, but I wanted no day-to-day responsibilities. She picked Willis as the real estate agent to do the deed transfers. Somebody does their homework. Judith.

The newsstand, situated over the escape hatch for the underground transit system, belonged to Ryan House. We really wanted control over that particular feature. I would talk to Dr. Williamson about the Academy using it as a teaching tool of some sort.

The same sort of guardianship documents Leah and Jenny’s parents executed before they disappeared into the Great White North were enclosed. Not a big shock if Judith moved elsewhere, I admitted to myself. Mrs. Ryan already had the trust details listed with me as the trustee and Albert and Monte, plus copies of her last will and testament, just in case.

The note from Rosalina was a whole ‘nother animal. It began with way too much information and got stranger than fiction. To synopsize the raw facts:

Rosalina, with the blessing of Julietta and Maria, took on Frank and Sergio one fateful weekend in Tom’s River at the family beach house. All five, after a night of fine wine, decided Rosalina had been a virgin too long. Julietta volunteered Sergio. Maria insisted Frank also have a go at his sister who had confessed to the brother fuck fantasy years ago. Maria had the same designs on her brother, Sergio, and Julietta admitted wanting her brother, Frank. In vino veritas. Being good Catholic girls, birth control was not used. Being bad Catholic girls, after several days of total Caligula-grade interfamily fucking and sucking, each guy had fucked every girl every way a girl could get screwed. Mother Nature bats last and all three women were with child. Unfortunately their own brothers knocked up the married women. Rosalina beat the odds and got pregnant by both her brother and her brother-in-law.

Spring Romero deNapoli and Summer deNapoli Romero were fraternal twins from different fathers. Charlotte, Minerva’s half-sister, Olivia, Karen’s half-sister, and the ‘twin half-sisters’ came into the world within hours of one another. Rosalina included physical descriptions of all six of the girls to confirm the tale of debauchery and family familiarity, charted neatly:

((((((Insert Chap37 Chart 1.htm)))))))

Name Age Hgt. Eyes Hair Cup Parents Related? Minerva deNapoli 26 4’09” hazel black C+ Frank/Maria Married Charlotte deNapoli 15 5’06” hazel brown B+ Sergio/Maria Brother/Sister Spring Romero deNapoli 15 4’10” blue red C+ Frank/Rosalina Brother/Sister Summer deNapoli Romero 15 5’05” blue blonde B Sergio/Rosalina In-Laws Olivia Romero 15 4’10” brown red C Frank/Julietta Brother/Sister Karen Romero 21 5’07” brown red B Sergio/Julietta Married

The handwritten cover letter rambled from topic to topic, but this much was clear: The girls strongly resembled the women in the actual father’s history, one generation removed.

In the beginning, certain assumptions were made. They let people think what they would: Charlotte and Spring, or Liv and Summer, were the fraternal twins, Summer was an orphaned cousin from Florence, Rosalina was an unwed mom, or adopted the illegitimate offspring of a lost wayward cousin in Venice. Sergio’s frou-frou eatery-operating sisters downtown even received a mention as the birth moms. As far as the real moms could tell, all six of the ‘little sisters’ never gave it any thought beyond the fact that everyone was somehow part of an extended Italian family.

Now that the four girls were ‘of an age’, things were getting difficult at both houses. People and the girls were noticing little details. Why did Spring look so much like Mimi and Livie? Ditto for Summer, Karen and Char. Why did they all look so different? Incorrect and incomplete birth certificates, passports, school records, physical differences and similarities were getting too obvious to gloss over to the friends and the girls themselves.

And she gets to the nitty-gritty.

Reading from the letter, “Minerva and Karen speak highly of your charisma and strange ability to charm the best out of every girl who comes under your influence. Sergio and Julietta believe you to be a straight dealing man of integrity and honesty, a fierce protector of your odd family. Sergio, in fact, described you as the nicest, least ambitious guy around, except when you were being cold and ruthless to those who made the fatal mistake of getting in your way. Maria, Frank and I have no reason to disagree and have come up with an unorthodox solution to our family reputation concerns. ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’ Basically, if the girls are not around, nosy people will find something else to meddle in.”

These are actual quotes. “The girls are visiting with their ‘cousins’ at Minerva’s new apartment. Would you please look them over and read the enclosed documents? If your inspection finds the girls satisfactory and the terms agreeable, would you sign in the presence of a notary and send the documents directly to the restaurant in Montauk? Though there may never be public acknowledgement, you will have our sincere gratitude. Family to family, we believe this ‘arms distant’ solution is in the best interest of the girls.”

Powers of attorney, control over school choice, medical treatments, discipline of my choosing, etc., in loco parentis four more times, a la the Ellis twins, the James gang, and Lulu. Debit card accounts with monthly $500.00 auto deposits for the girls, a $2000.00/month expense account for Karen, Minerva and me, prepaid tuition at Bingham-Hampton Academy, admission already registered.

“Charlotte, Olivia, Spring and Summer know nothing of this, but they are at the point in adolescence when girls are bursting to get away from parental eyes. The address change, as long as they know we still care for them, might be a happy/lucky surprise. You will know how to break the news in such a way that they will want to remain with you.”

Unanswered question popped out of the ozone. Why did the girls and women in my life always describe one another in such detail? Did Sergio have at least one sister who could cook real food? Were we going to run out of appropriate communal multi-use space at Z-House and the Annex? Did Minerva and Karen, or the others for that matter, know the whole story?

Of course I would sign for the four sister/cousins sake. No fifteen year old needed to suffer someone else’s drama. I had all these fractional sisters and whole daughters rising up out of the fog. The Tanner/Tanakas were not responsible for their origins. Children don’t get to chose their parents. These girls were no different than us.

Amy called. “Phoebe and Karen are here. The reunion is hilarious. For starters, Quincy and Sally are as you saw them last. Your friends and accomplices are comparing stories to see who had the most outrageous adventure. I can’t decide whether the foursome at the State House, the Old Well or on stage at Page Auditorium is the hottest. And you thought your life was an open book when I mentioned the journal! Sir, clearly you self-censored the good stuff. But when I see all the Romero-deNapoli sisters and cousins together, something tells me that book is missing pages.”

“Does it ever?! Think Tanners and Carlyles and you’ll be close. I’ll clue you in as soon as the girls are OK with it. Until then, it’s not my tale to tell.” I sighed, “Call you later.”

The afternoon could drag on for a while, so I phoned Judith directly and asked if there was any rush to get paperwork signed.

“Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow, Mark. We should go over some details that cannot be put to paper, things I spoke to Elizabeth Williamson about, concerns over the disposition of the newsstand and other little nuggets of information Celeste doesn’t need to know now but will have use for later.”

“Do I need to know more about the speakeasy before we explore today? Are there secrets?”

She laughed. “Of course, my dear friend. There are always secrets. For starters, it’s quite large. The main floor is where the bar/ restaurant/casino/nightclub room is nearly a hundred feet square, sections separated by sound absorbing half walls. Etched glass, stained glass, mahogany and jazz era art, photographs of the rich, even richer and famous people on the walls, really elegant for a clandestine hangout. Upstairs are meeting rooms and private suites.” Judith warned. “Don’t use the elevator in the rear until you see the layout at the surface. Access from the street is convoluted and shut down tight these days. The false walls may not be false after so many years.”

“I would expect no less than the best. I’ll call and drop by to finalize the transactions tomorrow early afternoon.” I said, “So where are you going to settle?”

“Right now I haven’t decided on the place. Either at the place in Palm Beach, our home near the Maitland’s new digs or New Orleans. Maybe move from house to house. Whatever strikes my fancy, and newspaper lady image aside, I have very fancy fancies.”

We ended the conversation and I called my XO. “Send down Celeste, Karen and Minerva. I’ve delayed the meeting with Mrs. Ryan until tomorrow, so we have plenty of time. I’ll call for the other four shortly.”

“On the way, Sir. Good luck.”

Two minutes later, I was mobbed by a 4’9” sex maniac with ‘C+’ tits, wearing a smoke cellophane miniskirt and a silver cellophane bed jacket, framing those most excellent boobs under a half-sheer white collar.

Karen, by the way, kept it simple: ‘B’ cup tits out and proud in a smoke cellophane cross-front formal semi-dress, decorated at the ‘X’ by an S/S Airwear broach. Her badge hung from a necklace. Celeste chose the silver cellophane Roman half-toga, jewelry the same, except her S/S Airwear pendant hung from a belt instead of the criss-cross. Like Karen, her collar/choker was solid silver. All three girls had S/S closures on the collars. An altogether irresistible vision sent by angels.

I recommend little sexpots going commando.

Mini dragged me to a bench, yanked down my pants and impaled herself before a word was spoken. After that, it was all crazed girl sounds, moans, laughs and squeals. “Oh my lord, I missed this feeling. So big, so good.” I palmed her boobs and let her have her way with me.

“Jeez, Mini! You are tighter than ever before. I missed this fine pussy more than I thought. Bet you taste just as sweet.”

Karen was giggling. “I thought Mark looked huge in Linh! Who knew a cunt could stretch that far?”

Celeste added, “Little hussy ain’t been used in nine years. Did you bring a fire extinguisher?”

“I’m the same size.” Minerva panted between orgasmic bounces. “He got bigger. I’m getting my cherry popped again!” The wailing started and continued for several minutes until she wound down.

“Holy Poly, I needed that!” She gasped, “Hi, Mark, great to see you. Been a long time. You wanted to talk to us?”

“Watching my cousin get fucked made me so hot I can’t stand it.” Karen pulled her up and off. “It’s my turn now. Talk can wait!” Ms Romero hopped aboard and went nuts, wailing loud enough to mask the sound of the elevator.

Not only was Karen on a hair trigger, her twat was on full auto. Damn, that girl could fuck! I felt her spasm inside and not let go for a seeming eternity. I squeezed her nipples hard and held on for the ride. She squeezed me back when she exploded around my dick lodged deep in her most excellent and enthusiastic pussy.

“Talk is cheap. It’s my turn.” Celeste announced as she removed Karen from my lap and pulled me down to the floor. She wanted to get nailed missionary-style and she wanted it now. Being the considerate marauding Viking I had become while getting hammered by the Romero/deNapoli girls, I gave the dripping teenager what she needed.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t fuck a girl through a marble floor. Lord knows, I gave it my best shot, but Celeste kept bouncing back. She was much louder and had a lot to say about how I felt inside her. She felt fine wrapped around me, too.

I screwed her through the first climax and then to a second before she went limp. I didn’t. Instead I pulled out of her cunt and dragged the girl standing next to us down to the floor. She was soaking wet and ready, coming immediately.

Balls deep and pounding away at the tightest twat of the day, I discovered that it belonged to Mitzi, beneath me, bug-eyed on her back. “Now this is some gold medal pussy you’ve been saving, girl. Glad you decided to go all in. Show us what you got.”

Her eyes got bigger and bigger as she realized she was fucking me back. I rolled over so she didn’t get that wonderful ass bruised against the cool marble. “Much better, Mitzi, now fuck me back. I know you’re ready. Roll those cute hips.” She gave a few experimental wiggles and smiled. “Squeeze me inside, just like that.”

Karen took pictures and videos with the ever-present cameras as I played with the gymnast’s little ‘A’ cup tits. “Your pussy goes crazy around my dick when your nipples get pinched.” I started to counter punch upwards, smashing my cockhead against her cervix. My thumb rolling her wet clit sent her over the edge, gyrating out of control.

“That is one fine floor exercise routine. I give her tens all the way.” Minerva giggled. “Make the little cunt come again and we can see if she can stick the dismount.”