.. I was to apologize... she suddenly pulled up and hugged me tight... without being aware I hugged her too... it took a few seconds for both of us to...recover from that act... when I recovered I felt her face on my neck... my breast pressing her's... I tried to pull out when she whispered... "I am a motherless c***d... she died when I was 3 days old... I was brought up by my father and grandmother who are very strict... I don't remember touching them..." I could not resist... I wrapped her in. Rather than view this image with dismay, one should see it as a hopeful vision. It means that each of us could one day be the hero of our imagination.Take a moment to look in a mirror. The face reflected back could be the face of a hero or heroine. It is much easier to prepare to be a hero than one might think. Learn CPR, first aid, how to use a fire extinguisher, or how to jump start a car. That little piece of knowledge could be the difference between being a hero and being a bystander. It is. Come and take me for a ride!” I barely pulled out as we changed positions and she was going to town, lifting herself up and down on my cock, her big tits just above my mouth. “Oh yeah, that feels great. Ohhhhh yes. This is the way I like to fuck,” she said, looking down at me. I had my hands on her ass. She was bent forward, her tits crushed against my chest, as she moved back and forth like she was on a galloping race horse, riding my cock faster and faster. “Fuck me! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!”. We all took a break, watching some TV together. Everyone was naked making it even more fun.To make the evening fair, every thirty minutes a different sister moved to my lap. After a few rotations, I felt myself ready for the next one of the ladies.It was Chrissy who was on my lap, who said, “I think he’s ready for me. His big boy prick is practically up my butt.”Grabbing her from behind, I asked, “Would you like me up your butt, Christine?”She bantered back, “Another time perhaps, Stud. Today.