Chapter 39

I continued the deep tissue massage until I felt that glorious feeling and exploded as deep in her quaking tissue as I could push, then unsocketed, still hard. “That was fun! Thanks. Damn fine pussy you have, girl. We will fuck a lot now that we have broken it in. You’ll be so glad you didn’t say ‘no’. My prick is.” I helped her stand upright by pulling her tits. “Brand new Class A Cock Socket, attractive, well designed package, plus an ass to die for. I can’t wait to have that sweet thang on my hard dick. Welcome to our world.”

“Broken into my fun pussy. Lost my cherry during a home-movied sit rep.” She was mumbling, dazed. “Shaken and stirred, fucked naked in front of everyone. Debriefed with a dick up my cunt.”

“Bonnie, drop anchor in the river. This could take a little time. Connie, you mentioned soap. Maybe you have some Tribeca Miracle Crème and Moisturizer onboard?” I rubbed my jaw. “I feel my chin stubble coming in.”

“No voice could say ‘no’ to knowing. Sweet personal massage. Class A ass fuck coming. Daylights pacified.” Wendy reconnected her brain in fits and starts. “Wow. Naked not dead to the world?”

We slowed, the anchor splashed and my sisters collected the ‘towels’ and supplies.

“You’re not alone, Boss. I could use a touch up, too. Any reason to use the crèmes will do. Make me tingle all over.” Ellie laughed, “Where’s the cool water hose?”

“Hold still you guys and I’ll knock the chum off before we soap up. Toss the laundry in this net bag.” Bonnie had the deck washing nozzle attached and opened it up to a vigorous spray. “Bro, put your canvas pants in the plastic bag. They need more than a rinse.”

“I’ll go first. Hose me down!” I laughed. “Empty my pockets into Feelie’s bottomless backpack.”

“This is river water. We’ll rinse in the limited amount of potable ‘aitch too woe’ we have on board. The heater is real small.” My other sister warned. “Here’s the soap.”

“Close your mouths. The river watch folks claim the Hudson is fisherman safe, but I ain’t drinking it.” Feelie declared, “Trust me. I’m a doctor.”

“Maybe it won’t dissolve the fishermen, but I ain’t eating the fish either.” Rainbow decided as she untied her panties.

Ellie shimmied out of her leotard and gathered the few remaining bits of apparel, forgetting to tell the others that a simple rinse was all the ‘cleaning’ Airwear fabric required to be as good as new. Bonnie and Connie probably knew, but their short-shorts and blouses also went into the bag. So much for the United States Armed Forces Uniform Code of Uniforms. After all, this was a reassigned Coast Guard vessel, not a clothing optional Princess Cruise. A ship primarily intended for rescues at sea surely would have extra blankets or warm, dry clothing readily available.

I could be wrong.

No remedies for unexpected yet compulsory public nakedness were forthcoming, nor did the skimpy towels promise to alleviate potential embarrassment. Not all of the girls considered that a bad thing. My sisters and Ellie still enjoyed the thrill of exposure in public. Felicia loved to be secretly naked outdoors but really lit up at the idea of getting caught with a dick in her. Moderately exhibitionistic to begin, little Mitzi appeared determined to experience the full range of Zephyr sisterhood and follow their examples no matter how strange. The daring and free-spirited Rainbow was having a good time with us, dressed or not. How she would react on the street, her naked body on exhibit for strangers to see, was unknown.

For the Whirly Girls, it was an unfortunate day to be bashful. Or perhaps a good day to live out fantasies akin to those Caralyn Thomas harbored in her tight silk dress that day weeks ago. War is not always the hell we expect.

I don’t pretend to be a behavioral expert nor a psychic telepath, but I’ve had considerable experience interpreting my girls’ complex mental gymnastics through their body language. These particular young ladies were not just open books; they were large-print, end-user manuals, illustrated in living color. I can read but I’ll never fully understand the ‘why things are’ section; however I have a solid grasp on the ‘hardware installation’ and ‘how-to-operate’ chapters.

Wendy didn’t know what to think yet. She was very aware of her uncovered body, but that concern was nowhere near the top of her list. First was the unexpected loss of the flight suit revealing her audacious choice of underthings, and then being topless in public as a direct result of that choice. Second was her meek, unquestioned acceptance when told that I wanted her naked. She offered no more resistance than a store window mannequin as I removed the little clothing she had left. Third was the shock of having her maidenhead suddenly shattered and allowing herself to be fucked exquisitely boneless during a comm chat. Fourth was feeling illogically pleased at being judged a promising future fuckmate, wondering if Pamela would see just how great it felt to let her senses go free.

No longer in danger of drowning, Pamela, stripped naked for safety concerns before the helicopter crash, was beginning to be quite uncomfortable about her continued public nudity. The brave façade of confidence was slipping away and she was frightfully aware I could take her cherry as casually as I did Wendy’s. Pam knew in her conflicted heart that she would take my cock in any hole I chose because she wanted it bad, and worried I would not find her body desirable enough to bother. The spark of girlish competition flickered when her best girl friend got nailed first, but the public nakedness fanned it into a hot flame centered on her dampening pussy.

The Lance Corporal visibly steeled her resolve to remain visible and available. The cool breeze and exposure steeled other parts. The reluctant exhibitionist had turned the corner.

The ride home will be entertaining. The family would love the films.

Joining eight naked girls on deck for the hands on wash-up was delightfully utilitarian. We had enough tiny towels to pat one another sufficiently dry to apply the depilatory crème. That was delightfully delightful. We managed to take twice as long as strictly necessary to crème the new girls. Any job worth doing is worth doing right. The damp towels were recycled into washrags to remove the miracle ointment, and the rest of the dry towels did the pat down honors for the moisturizer crèming.

My sisters and Ellie made sure Felicia, Mitzi and Rainbow were as smooth as baby’s bottoms. I checked. Toon trained them well.

My attention was on moisturizing the Whirly Girls. Wendy creamed first and I turned her quivering naked body over to the tender mercies of the reenergized Bingham-Hampton girls. Mitzi and Rainbow were working her into another frenzy when I heard the anchor winch and felt the ship light up. Connie dragged out a clean deck lounge as Bonnie piloted us to the pier.

Then, while I was concentrating on bringing the already moist Pamela to a frothing peak, Ellie and Felicia piloted us to the chaise, pushing me to my back laying the Whirly Girl on top, her dripping cunt in prime sitting cowgirl position. Feelie held my cock up and against the virgin’s fuck hole, rubbing gently along the tight lower lips. That, and the extremely vulnerable situation, sent her into a full-blown orgasm.

Ellie, not bothering to whisper, said, “We saw you drooling at both ends when the Boss sank into your teammate. You have two choices. Sit down and wrap your hot pulsing pussy around that hard dick for the deck camera or say ‘no’, get up and walk away from the best first fuck any girl could want. What’s it gonna be?”

Like Bailey at the station, with a little nipple twisting and clit tickling, Pamela made the gravity-assisted decision to impale herself on my steely pole. She watched the slow penetration until her clit met the blonde hair at the base of my prick. Any remaining shyness disappeared with her hymen and she went totally feral on my cock.

Born to fuck and built for speed, she reversed the roles, making me the fucktoy. Some days you’re the dancer, some days you’re the dance pole. And some days, you’re both. I just held on to the bouncing boobs and thanked our Tribeca pharmacist for the super-sensitizing moisturizing crème. It works on guys, too. It must work the same for girls’ insides if transferred by the fleshy probe when certain enabling accomplices use it as an unnecessary lubricant.

Bonnie, meanwhile, had maneuvered us to a berth at the very end of the long dock. Belinda and Nell caught the mooring lines thrown out by Ellie and Connie, pulling us to the bumper cushions, while my other sister idled the engines. It never occurred to anyone to wonder aloud why the entire ship’s complement was as naked as the day they were born. Pamela flailing and wailing away on my dick, then falling still in a well-earned stupor did rate a mention.

“She’s catching on.” Nell commented with a huge grin. “I think you broke her, Piper.”

“Poor girl had a rough day, Bullet. She’ll be fine, is fine now, in fact, and will get better with a little rest.”

“Permission to come aboard?” Blender asked Bonnie, saluting the colors.

“Granted. Welcome to the ‘USS Penny Dreadful’, setting new standards in after-action action. Are you way over-dressed badasses our ride home?” The new arrivals were still wearing full battle gear.

Now on deck, Blender answered, “Yes and no. We brought the car, but Belle wants us to take the boat back to the 46th Street pier. So many dangerous toys left unattended makes her nervous. Audrey owns the civilian version, so she has the chops to drive this hummer and Astrid is along for the ride.”

“Oh yeah, she has the biggest version she could buy!” Rainbow said. “Installed a lift kit, had the monster souped up, painted it desert sand and tinted the windows, too. At least one weekend a month she, Rochelle and Portia ride up to Albany.”

“No cops ever pull her for speeding because it looks so butched-out military.” Mitzi chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong. Audrey never claims to be anything but who she is. Be different if she stenciled numbers on the side or marked it in any way. But people slow down and make nice whenever they see a black ‘Crown Vic’, not taking the chance it’s not an unmarked car. Works for Hummers, too.”

“Rumor has it about half the time they’re topless or naked.” Rainbow giggled softly. “If the police only knew about the little exhibitionist games!”

“And you know this choice bit of gossip how?” Bonnie wondered.

“Maybe some of us know the people they visit at Rensselaer Poly in Troy. Maybe they have company sometimes.” Mitzi snarked, “Maybe one of us can’t refuse a dare. That someone might be Rainbow Faraday.”

“And maybe one short gym coach has a big gossipy mouth.” Ms Faraday rejoined, “I was only along because I can hit the correct change basket at the toll plaza on the first try.”

“I suspect we’ll trump that covert topless stunt soon. Our hummer will hold what, six or seven fully geared troops?” I grinned happily. “We have two in the car already, plus another nine passengers. No tinted windows, no lift kit. NYC traffic, no Thruway. Can you say ‘naked lap sitting’? This day gets better and better.”

“This model seats two up front, two in the second row with room between for the gunner to stand then three in the third row. A little equipment room in the rear, but not all that much.” Belinda figured, “Then again, seven Mikes and Norms is a lot more people than seven Ellies and Pamelas.”

The nine of us debarked and let Nell and Belinda engage the engines. Nell wondered out loud as they drifted away, “What I don’t understand is why Bonnie didn’t take you all back to the 46th Street Pier. Clean clothes, showers and all the comforts of home, passed up. Your sisters are as crazy as the rest of us. It’s gonna be a tight fit and a slow ride. Potholes are your friends according to Tina. Enjoy.”

They left us standing naked at the end of a very long and sparsely populated dock. The Whirly Girls were clearly dreading the next few minutes. For them, ‘empty’ was too many.

Bonnie sidled over, speaking for my ears only. “I switched out deck cam cards before we pulled you all out of the drink. I put the after-action action record in Felicia’s bag. No reason for our handlers to see you fuck both Whirly Girls senseless. The real crash and rescue log is back in the camera. There is a pair of clean boxer shorts for you in the pack. I’m not sure if the new bare titty laws allow for hard cocks in public. Technically, it’s all equal above the waist. You need to hide that glaring inequality below in something.”

A whispered ‘thanks, any port in a storm’ to her and a louder, “Let’s go home, ladies. We seem to have forgotten the towels.”

Mitzi shrugged, “Nothing to do but walk the plank. Got screwed sorta accidentally in public already and survived nicely. Enjoyed it actually. Can’t know how it makes me feel to be on public exhibit until we head for the car.”

“I’ll dare. I definitely do not call ‘shotgun’. Crowd me in the middle all you want.” Rainbow smiled. “Seriously, I’m standing jay-bird naked at the end of a public pier in New Your City the same day I get fucked for the first time ever by a stranger who put his big dick in me before I laid eyes on him. An hour ago, I was fighting terrorists, then riding a giant bomb and crashing in the Hudson River. A bare assed stroll is easy. I’m in.”

“I’m good as is.” Felicity grinned. “You Carlyle sisters OK with this little sortie into local legend?”

Connie followed, “Not a problem. We’re big girls.”

“Sure are.” Bonnie laughed. “Not much choice now, is there? Why didn’t I think of the other berth? Sorry about the towels.”

“I don’t have a problem. He thinks I’m worth being seen.” Ellie stated cheerfully. “Boss likes to show me off, so I like being shown. I can wait for the second lap if I have to. Pam, Wendy, want to wait on the street for another trip?”

Vigorous headshakes translated into appealing titty wobbles. I will need to see more answers.

“I imagine we’ll find a way to work out the seating.” I nodded toward the small crown of curious spectators on the pier. “Getting to the hummer might be problematic. Do we know four girls wearing mostly transparent bikinis who wave at naked strangers?”

“Good grief! That’s just Cymbaline O’Hara. They teach at the Academy.” Mitzi laughed. Good answer! “Naked girls and helicopter crashes is right up their storyteller alley.”

They missed the plural pronouns. All four were this ‘Cymbaline O’Hara’, apparently famous and prolific author of girl’s bestsellers. Ellie and my Pennys went fangirl nuts. Dependable Ellie kept her camera running. Multitasking.

“Oh. My. God!” “Which one?” “I have all her ‘Sylvie Santana’ books!” “Is it Ms Turner? I had her for Creative Writing last year.” “But there are four of them!” “Do you think we’ll be in the next book?” “Probably. Brave girls, time and tempest tossed, clothes shredded or torn away, forced to cope with danger are their pulp fiction specialty.”

And more disjointed crosstalk from everyone except Felicia. She was staring at the businesslike camerawoman in a little smoke Airwear evening dress filming us. I nodded at her raised eyebrow and signed for silence. Feelie responded with an evil grin.

“OK. I give. Who are they? And what is a ‘Sylvie Santana’?”

My sisters, the Whirly Girls and Ellie, still in the babbling stage, ran off to get their own answers. Rainbow and Mitzi, in the usual fashion, gave us the descriptions first. I could see that much. I’ll synopsize for simplicity. Then came the specialty details.

((((((((Insert Chap39 Chart 1.htm))))))))

Name Age Hgt. Eyes Hair Cup Paige Turner 20 5’01” green red B+ Zoë Gustafson 20 5’10” blue blonde C Indy Sutra-Sunrise 20 5’02” brown red B Pippa Joplin 20 4’11” green strawberry A+

Creative writing instructor Paige: Romantic Imagery in Classic Literature.

Various Mythologies: for Zoë: Celtic, Germanic & Scandinavian, India: Indo-Asian, Japanese & Chinese and Pippa: Greek, Roman & Mediterranean. All four were anime, sci-fi, and ComiCon junkies. They all had a working knowledge of everything ‘sword and sorcery’. Always seeking story ideas. Academic prodigies, social wallflowers.

They were quite inviting in their matching half-sheer pastel pink panties and cellophane pastel pink bikini bras. The solid white collars with S/S Airwear broaches were a surprising but encouraging touch. The flowers were trying to bloom. I could see every pink tinted petal.

“So the time-traveling main character is the amalgam of their experiences, imagination and arcane education? I’ve never heard of the books.” I confessed to my ignorance. “Are we dealing with manga, space operas or knights and damsels? Dunne, Conrad, Doyle, Brontë Sisters, Clemens, Hardy, Ellison, or Bradbury?”

“Yes and more, Verne, Gray, Milton, Cartland, but each adventure is different. Gods and goddesses, warlocks, vampires, any and all historical eras, evil arch-villains, sentient robots, hot and sexy heroes, half-naked damsels, debonair spies and doomsday devices, poor naïve Sylvie suffers through it all, yet triumphs in the end.” Mitzi explained, smiling. “Power, passion, intrigue, peril, and unspecified surrender to the temptations of the flesh. The books are ‘PG, safe for girls aged twelve and up’, and the heroine always has her virtue intact in every chapter one.”

“That’s because they have no actual temptation surrender experiences to draw on, Mitz. They’ve been roommates, suitemates and housemates since birth. Their only contact with real hot, swarthy and manly men has been through historical accounts, movies, and bodice-rending romance novels or sanitized mythologies. It’s all imagination, rumor, fantasy and dreams for them.” Rainbow added.

“They are making it all up?” Felicia laughed, “They have no idea what comes after ‘With his mighty arms, Sir Theodore of Burningwood suddenly swept her from the jaws of the ravenous beast, clutched her bare, panting body against his sweaty, muscular chest where she hung like a precious diamond necklace as he slew the monster from the depths of the grim underworld. Her excitement obvious as her vulnerable unclad bosom pressed tightly to his rippling abdomen, Sylvie’s abject terror turned to passion as her heart pounded and her femininity blossomed in anticipation of the high price she would pay for her rescue from sure death by the granite faced, broadsword wielding, mysterious Dark Knight.’ The cliffhangers are because they’ve never been toppled over the cliff with a man who knows how to use his sword to topple a virgin properly? That’s truly tragic. OK, so I read trashy potboilers, too. But prose that purple is not easy to forget. That passage stuck to me like a brain worm.”

“You haven’t had to imagine anything since we were in grade school, Feelie.” I Groucho-browed the trio. “They sell millions of these books? Jeez!”

“Had to imagine millions of what?” The roving reporter approached us and stood behind me. I turned my back to the girls and winked at Britney Gilbert in a half sheer little smoke dress. She and her clearly revealed tits still looked like jail bait. I hope she remembered the American Sign Language from high school.

Hidden from the trio, I signed, “Not surprised to see your hot self here, Brit. Working our fashion revolution or playing the innocent vacationer stumbling into a big story? I hear you stumble into more odd hints than stories. We talk to the same people, ‘Puffbot’. It’s my job to sort your clues.”

“Both. Wasn’t aware others knew my code name, I hate it. You better be a Top Secret level seven or above. We’ll talk details later.”

“I’m a nine. You look as wonderful as ever, sweetie. Want to relive old thrills? Follow along and act like the shocked and helpless victim. I’ll explain after we fuck in public.”

ASL does have a coarse vernacular component if you are fluent and inventive. We were both.

“You know I love doing ‘helpless’.” She had not forgotten anything. “How do you want have me? Like in the lecture hall or the computer lab? But you’re a lot bigger!”

“So I’m told. You have same tight and sexy body you had then. Lecture hall style, hard and fast. Standing and bent over.”

“Hard is good. I’m game. It’s been a long time. Go deep all at once. Be quick, but gentle. I’ve been ready for fifteen or sixteen years.”

“You were ready to fuck the day I met you and haven’t changed one bit.” I gripped her arm and marched us both to where the others were chattering with ‘Cymbaline O’Hara’. Mitzi, Felicia and Rainbow trailed along in our wake. Using the Voice, I ordered, “Ellie, take this too curious paparazza’s camera and record the price she will pay with her pussy for her nosiness.”

She jumped to obey, eager to see what I had in mind.

About this time, all the girls recognized the TV personality and were stunned into silence. Felicia was in danger of choking to death from suppressed giggles. She knew my history. So did Ellie from the journals but never thought Britney would appear in New York. The other six were clueless.

“Felicia, moisturize my dick. Leave it drippy.” She did a thorough job of it after she tried a quick deep throat blowjob on her knees. The observers stared at us in even greater shock than Britney was faking. “Now, you and Rainbow take care of the bikini girls. Sunburn is bad for the complexion. Bonnie and Connie lend a hand. Do a proper job of it. The Misses Cymbaline O’Hara will never be able to stand toasted nipples roughly smashed against hardened pectorals.”

“I’ll use the tubes Karen said were the fast acting, ‘Special Zephyr Blend’. Zat OK?” She whispered, squeezing a dab in my hand.

I nodded ‘OK’ again and rolled my eyes. Karen is the devil’s pheromone facilitator. I love that girl, especially when in Viking pillager mode. Felicia, too, was an apt enabler.

Turning to my old friend, “So you think you have the right to film my girls naked in public?” I paced around her ‘frozen’ body, touching and caressing her nipples and ass through the ultra thin fabric. “This is my city, not the Prince’s disco in Monaco, Ms Polite Society. I decide who has the right to see us, not you. I decide who gets fucked in public and I’ve decided on you.”

I slowly opened the buttons on the side of the dress. It fell to the deck. “You have nice perky titties and a firm ass. I like the bare fuckable cunt. Pussy fur is not attractive to me.” I rubbed my rigid cock and transferred some crème to her boobs. The dab from the special tube went in her twat. “You like that, don’t you? But you’re wet already. Time to pay the piper. Bend over and hold your knees, girl. Face the street and spread those long legs.”

The Four Pseudonyms could not believe their reddening ears. Paige spoke softly to her friends, “Is he for real? Can he be so commanding? Do real girls react so meekly? That’s ‘The Untouchable’ Britney Gilbert with whom he’s having his carnal way as if she had become personal property!”

“Perhaps she has, as he seems to take whatever he wants. He appears terribly real.” India sighed. “And quite substantial. She is his to use as he wants and I think she wants to be used hard. Ms Gilbert is going to get touched in places we can only imagine, in ways we can only envy.”

“That spell caster has her enchanted. She can’t resist his advances. She needs him to feed her awakening body’s aching hunger!” Pippa panted, vicariously living the scene. “Imagine yourself under his hands! I would take her place in a heart beat.”

I was almost sure she would get her chance before long.

Zoë shivered and came as I listened, “I will dance the ancient rhythm on his impressive Maypole if he so much as looks at me. She is so lucky. Seduced by command.”

Really? Are the million-seller books this florid?

I stooped behind her and placed my dick head against her sopping lower lips, splitting them in preparation to plunge in. “Ellie, get a close up of the famous reporter spreading the news. We can post her with my post in her to the Associated Press editors. It’s her turn to get her syndicated privates imbedded worldwide.”

She zoomed as I slid home all the way into a very familiar, and tighter than recalled, pulsing sheath. Britney’s pussy went wild around me, squeezing and spasming from one body-wracking orgasm into another. She had been saving up energy for years. I was the beneficiary of one monumental pressure release.

Felicia, Minerva and now Britney, my old school and college class reunions were coming to me. Nostalgia is good.

Ten incredible minutes and thousands of unintelligible sounds later, Britney Gilbert sank to the wooden surface in semi-conscious exhaustion. “I needed that so bad. God. It’s been too long since we were together.” Mitzi cradled her listless naked body on the dock and listened to the barely audible words. The gymnast’s eyes widened in understanding when she heard, “He is my first and only lover. Make no mistake; it was worth every second of the wait, Miss, but do not let sixteen years pass between trips to the moon. Pleasure is a renewable resource and his supply never runs dry. I’ve learned my lesson. Share freely with your sisters but do not let him get far away.”

The visibly embarrassed and naked Whirly Girls were trying to be invisible. It wasn’t working. Their hot red glow was visible from outer space.

By now, Connie, Feelie and Rainbow, deciding the bikinis were in the way, had slathered the super sensitizing moisturizer on the four mesmerized, exposed to the world, writers from head to toe. The Cymbalines ensorcelled themselves. No hypnotist needed.

Felicia fanned the fantasy flames.

“I read your books. The research is sadly lacking. You never describe what happens to the captured virginal heroine in the dungeons when no one comes to save her in time. Happy endings are rare. Endings are rarely happy. Virgins don’t ever stay virgin. Virgins get fucked. In the real world, and I assure you Cymbalines there is a very real world, she’s nothing more than fresh pussy and gets roughly and immediately used for her captor’s perverted pleasure just like our much kinder Master used Ms Gilbert. Even if your heroine escapes unscathed, unlikely except in your foolishly uninformed fantasies, our Dark Knight is more patient, but ten times more demanding. He is not above the law, he is the law. Sylvie becomes another willing fucktoy, his submissive dick warmer, available anytime, in any hole, he wishes. Trust me, he is a shining knight compared to an actual evil villain. However, in our world, girls still earn their keep and he stays satisfied. There are no freebies.”

“He now and forever owns her lost, addicted soul. She craves it, will follow him naked on her knees for the chance to suck his huge dick, to take him in the ass, anything to taste the forbidden ecstasy one more time.” Rainbow poured gasoline on the fires, “Your imagination falls far short of reality. One session on the truth will set your minds and bodies free. It’s time you discovered what it means to let Sylvie Santana grow up on the pages of your novels.”

Using the obvious handle, Bonnie pulled me over to face the squirming anxious writers. “Brother, you still have to hide that raging hardon in someone before we dare walk to the car. Astrid and Audrey are waiting in their bed jackets. I’m sure they’ll be attracting a crowd soon.”

“Anticipation will not hurt either of them. Any thoughts or recommendations, my naked sisters?”

‘Naked sisters’ got a noticeable reaction from the Cymbalines. They were paying rapt attention. Did Sylvie have a brother in her future?

Connie began her evaluation first. “In total, each girl is a complete package: extremely intelligent, crazy cute, ideally proportioned, flawless complexion, and, according to their colleagues, well-versed in the steamy, sultry side of mythical literature, perhaps, a touch too deeply immersed in fantasy role play. That actually works to your advantage, my erect and naked brother, it makes them that much more amenable to our hide-the-cock plan. Imagine cosplay without a costume but with a screaming hentai climax.”

That tweaked a fantasy for sure. Heat flushed faces and hardened nipples never lie. Brother and sisters, naked cosplay and porntoon climaxes from strange cocks. The potential plot thickens and hardens.

“Their classical looks and talents could easily win beauty pageants in Sweden, Ireland, Sri Lanka, the US and most other ‘mixing pot’ nations, although the speaking accents are purely regional America.” Bonnie was remarkably observant and analytical. “You can see they are afraid you will pick them to fuck and hate the thought of you selecting someone else. Primitive feminine competition rears its inevitable head. Girls naturally are wired to win the Prime Alpha Male. That would be you.”

Sexist anthropology, even if genetically provable, spoken aloud in New York City? Even I would have raised a pro forma objection to that clinical conclusion for personal safety concerns if there was a chance it might be overheard. The Cymbalines remained quiet. Amazing! But, girls are attracted to bad boys. Ask the lonely good boys.

I gestured to the overheated and lubricating girls intentionally presented and subconsciously preening for my approval. “The Airwear bikinis clearly demonstrated that they have no problem being seen naked in public. The trick is to make it look accidental and irreversible. The tops concealed nothing really and the panties were hardly better. Totally naked is a minor change except their bare, unfettered and perky tits bounce so much nicer this way when I pull the nipples up and let the weight pull them down. See? And I can see how wet this situation makes their unused twats. Instantly responsive, too. Nice.”