Frieda coughed his attention. Syd opened his eyes. She slowly drew the tee-shirt up and off. Her large, no…massive, breasts hung with a little sag a...d jiggled mildly. Syd watched Frieda’s large, no…massive, hands approach his cock. Syd remembered the near painful muscle compressions and thought of the sensations Frieda’s hands might give him. Syd quickly covered his flaccid cock with his hands and said ‘I not really feeling it. The massage was great but has left me tired and drained. I would. He couldn't remember the last time he had been turned on so much for so long. He actually felt exhausted with the constant ache in his balls and the tension in the veins in prick, so swollen that it also felt tired with the constant throbbing and pulsing. The whole room smelt of sex. She leant forward to release him from his jacket, which was still zipped up. As she did, he thought he'd shot his load as his body tensed so taut yet again as she brushed her sopping cunt across the tip of his. The familiar pit of hate in Art's gut.Jessica would really hate the girl Art had become. He opened his eyesagain slihtly. His head still ached, his brain still buzzed withconflicting thoughts. Worry, disgust, pride. He needed to clear it. Heneeded some fresh air.He towled his hair a little, leaving it just damp before spraying it withthe heat defence spray that had become a regular go to in his routine,one that added soft waves to damp hair. He pulled his sister's hair dryerfrom where he had. She had black hair instead of Alison’s light-brown, and kept it in a girlish braid that fell down her back. She wore pink clothing, frilly and dainty. She shuddered at the sight of us. Tears welled in her brown eyes as she gasped.“Oh, Dad, look, they’re naked and...” She clapped her hands over her eyes. “They’re such perverts!”Dad, sitting in his brown recliner, a can of his favorite brand of beer, Coors, clutched in his hand. These days, lifting the drink to his mouth was as much exercise as.