Rather than wait awkwardly for my turn between her legs, I decide to help myself to a blow-job whilst the informal waitlist gets a little shorter.I kn...el down at her right shoulder. Her mouth is still stuffed with her partner’s manhood, and for a moment I wonder if she’s going to ignore me. I haven’t been paying attention to her for long enough to know if she’s as enthusiastic about swapping dicks in her mouth as the wicked schoolgirl is. But she sees me out of the corner of her eye, and almost. She blinked her eyes and a shiver ran up her spine. The fantasy was becoming stronger and stronger; the urge more insistent. Oh, God, how she wished Peter wasn't her brother.He's only your adopted brother, not your real brother, the little voice said. Who would know?Marsha pushed the tormenting thought from her mind, but like a seed planted, it had already taken root in her subconscious mind. She pressed the accelerator down and the car surged forward. Marsha Bradford was in hurry. . I stood up and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in close to me. Our lips met, her mouth blossoming to mine, open for my tongue. Our tongues commingled, explored. She trembled in my arms. I ran my hands down her back and slipped them inside her panties, caressing her soft, soft cheeks. I then reached down in front and cupped her pussy again. She stepped up on her tiptoes, arched her back, pushing her pussy into my hand. I reached up and unhooked her bra. She stepped back and tossed it to. Lifting her skirt, I found that, indeed, she was playing with herself. I lifted her up and scooted her to the edge of the seat, and kneeled down between her legs. The smell of her pussy washed over me, and my cock once again began its journey to becoming a pillar of stone.I leaned forward, taking in a huge whiff of pussy. I gave into my desires and buried my head between her thighs, forcing them apart. I stuck my tongue out as far as it could go, and felt her lips part and the end of my tongue.