Becky proved herself to possess a hearty appetite, and pretty much killed off the entire serving before tossing in the fork. ‘How about dessert?’ ... offered. ‘Hot fudge sundae? Chocolate Moouse? Hot Apple Pie?’ ‘No way Dave’ Becky said. ‘That was so good, but I’m stuffed.’ ‘Good’ I admitted, ‘because I don’t have anything except a couple of fudgesicles that have been in the fridge since last summer.’ We conversed at the dining table around the roses as the afternoon slipped away and night began. ‘A mirror!’ Jane shouted. ‘Where’s a mirror?’ She began running (which is not a graceful sight when my breasts aren’t restrained in a bra – they tend to bounce in all directions at once), looking first in the kitchen, then down the hall and finally into the master bedroom. The sisters, laughing, followed. There, on the back of the bathroom door, was a full length mirror, and she stopped my body in front of it, obviously enraptured by the sight of me. ‘But it IS me!’ she proclaimed with my. " she said breathily as my hands played with her bottom. "That those are your own mother's panties you are playing with..." she giggled in a deep throated European voice."Yes and they ... feel ... very ... nice on you." I gasped and put my tongue into her ear."Should I let you get into your mother's panties, I wonder? If it were Hans, I might be tempted, but wouldn't have the nerve." she giggled. and I squeezed the wonderful full cheeks of her ass and pressed her body tight against my cock.We. My hands grip your buttocks, and pull you against me, but you laugh and step back. You untie the belt of my bathrobe, and push it off my shoulders, to join your towel on the floor.You come back to my embrace, kissing my neck, and then sliding down my throat to my nipples, which you suck and nibble, first gently, then harder, as I pull your head in tight against me.You ease down to your knees and look up at me with a knowing smile, as you hold my inflamed manhood in your hand, caressing my.