My mind’s eye imagined Stacey talking to my parents — ordering them to subvert their resistance into physical self-gratification. I remembered the way I’d felt when Jenny and I had experimented on each other, and the feedback cycle of desire and arousal that had sucked us down to the primal cores of ourselves. ‘Orgasm’ was too pedestrian a word to describe the sensations I’d felt when the two of us inadvertently mindfucked each other into the sluts we were now. Just the echo of that memory was sufficient to leave me shuddering and screaming beneath Michael’s thrusting body. ‘Don’t stop!’ I screamed, when I felt him hesitate. ‘He’ll kill us!’ Michael objected, but he kept going. ‘Maybe he’ll thank us,’ I quipped. If arguing with Stacey made Daddy masturbate, what would happen if he caught Michael screwing me in the ass? Wow, that was an exciting thought. ‘Fill me up! I want to feel you leaking out of me all night!’ I fingered my rings, teasing my excited clit until it was nearly. I stumbled a bit further into the entryway and looked into my living room. God what a sight! Becky was standing there with her back to me, wearing nothing but a black bustier, stockings and heels. She held a stripper pose, hip kicked to the side, hand on hip. There on the couch was Phil and two of the salesmen from the office. Standing next to Becky were the other salesmen and two strangers. The only things all these people in my house had in common was they were naked and had erections.Becky looked over her shoulder at me; or at least towards the noise of the door opening. She didn’t look scared or upset or anything other than determined. She walked towards me with that exaggerated hip swing that only a woman can do. I saw cum dripping from her pussy and running down her thighs.With a smirk on her lips, Becky placed her hand on my chest and said that I should go out for a bit and come back late in the evening. She said she would explain how things were then, but right now, she was.
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