She does not know what is ahead.After a moment, she feels her heart lurch from inside, the cup drops from her hand then she collapses on the floor. Sh...'s not dead, nor is she in any "real" danger. I bring out my "book" and open it. Inside is my tablet and it displays the slave and the room as an iridescent holographic image above the glass surface. Interestingly it also shows beneath the room, and it's contents below.The image shows her body clearly and her represented glow is replaced by a. They went on to say how much they loved each other, blah, blah, blah, etc. but that they felt it was time I knew about it (even though I already knew ALL about it I acted like I didn't) and that they also felt it was time that maybe I would like to experiment they way they did! I wasn't sure what THAT meant but I had an idea so I asked what they meant and mom said that maybe I would like to meet some of their sexual friends and even possibly join them for some parties. Dad explained that now. We don’t say no to our men, especially in bed, because we’re real women. Not stupid feminists.’ Candi nodded, and Mrs. Goodhead got up to leave, her daughter’s hand firmly grasping my hard cock through my pants at the table. ‘Candi,’ she added as she closed the door, walking out. ‘Just remember what I’ve told you. Show him you’re wife material. Show him you know your womens’ work.’ The door slipped closed, and her hand squeezed me, her expression very excited. I asked what kind of womens’ work. Gnawing the mound with lips over teeth. My tongue shot into her pussy, so far I would have been surprised had I not been so enraptured in the revelation of tasting. Eating. My own sisters pussy. She bucked and writhed, not moaning but breathing rapidly and hoarsely, but my arms were wrapped around her hips like a lover. A lamprey. A leech. I always was a fan of eating pussy… curiously this one was the first I had tasted in Brazil. She was sweating now, becoming more and more slippery to hold on.