. . AY PAPI I'M CUMMING!!!"The stud under the climaxing maid had to hold on to her hips to keep her on. She was bucking up and down like a wild horse was under her, even though her lover barely wasn't moving much anymore. Finally he lost control of her, or he just gave up, and Maria fell to the ground shaking like a maniac and spraying from her pussy like a water-balloon had popped up her cunt.Samantha was so shocked (and aroused) by her maid's amazing orgasm that she didn't recognize the stud who had just fucked her at first. It was her nephew, Bobby Scagliotti."Bobby?" Samantha announced with surprise. "What the fuck are you doing here?" But the only thing she could really focus on was her nephew's perfect body. She had always known her sister's son was hunk, but seeing him naked and covered in sweat was an orgasm for the eyes. He was a lean mass of perfect sculpted muscle, his face devilish and handsome, and his black messy hair was just begging to be touched. Most amazing of all. There were other smells, too, though none quite so pleasing as that of the sausages cooking over their fireplace. Phyre watched them, her mouth watering. For now, she had only a bowl of porridge to sate her appetite. She took great care not to eat too much of it. No need to fill up while the best was yet to come. There was music in the kitchen, too. Her mother stood at the counter, carving off a slice of bread that would soon join the sausages. The woman sang as she worked, not just to see, but because she enjoyed it. A song that reminded Phyre of the morning, likely because that was always the time she heard it. She had no idea what the words or sounds meant. Nor did she understand those of her father when he chose to join in. The words were not her own, so they were not hers to know. Phyre chose not to accompany her mother’s song, that morning, content to simply eat and watch as the sausages steadily approached edibility. Abruptly, her mother’s voice stopped, as did the sawing of.
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