“Trace them over your nipples, running down to press firmly onto your clit,” a pause, “then, push them up into you.” Her words are long and dr...wn. They float around my body. Swirling. Caressing. “Breathe. Let them sink in.”I am caught on a slowly spinning carousel of fantasy. Foreign fingers seem to trail across my tits, down over my mound, invading deep into my wetness. The lids of my eyes are weighted, too heavy to open, every muscle in my body easing into a sensual paralysis. A gentle moan. ‘Good morning,’ he said gently. ‘I’m Luke Foster. You can blame me for all of this. I was the one who performed your surgery yesterday.’ I watched Mum’s face brighten again, saw the flash of understanding in her eyes. And as he began to describe what had happened, keeping his explanations simple and to the point, I felt a strange sense of pride as I listened. This was Luke, my Luke. The skilled surgeon who’d known what to do, how to make her better, how to save her life. I wasn’t sure I’d ever. When Deanna started squealing like a pig and her toes curled, her chest heaving and her breathing shallow, there was little doubt. It was too unglamorous and unflattering a noise to be fake. She was cumming for me, yet again, which was the other reason that I knew it was real. I just knew that more of this, sliding in and out of her warm, wet snatch, my previous loads helping lube her further, and I would soon expel a third load and would be unable to stop myself.“Do it, please! Cum inside me!. My mind clouded with pleasure and the numb feeling of being high, I leaned forward and licked the lobe of Marks ear as I exclaimed yes in a low purr. I could feel Mark reaching for his pants that were now next to us as we embraced on the love seat. The low lights of the candles mingled with their intoxication aroma and a soft song came on the radio. I felt a cold, slick liquid being poured over my thong. Mark had brought lubricant and in an instant has poured it down my ass crack and over this.