A lot of fucking, obviously. There had been pillow talk.“We could call him..”“He says he’s a bit tired and hungover…”“We don’t have to...do anything, just hang out…”“Yeah.. he’s texted. He’s on the way…”’It wasn’t much of a gamble. He was her friend, someone we liked and respected, and was good company. But we weren’t sure anything would happen. Or even if we’d want it to. After an enjoyable evening, and perhaps sensing a moment alone was needed, our friend went to the toilet. We looked at each. My hand slipped and rested on her breast. She stiffened. Her breaths were laborious and quick. I took her heaving breasts in my hands, but they were as hard as coconut fruits. I pulled her on me and kissed her quivering lips.She crushed her body against mine expressing her impatience to be fucked. I held her buttocks and pressed them. My erection pressed against her abdomen.She broke the kiss and urged me, ‘Fuck me, uncle. I want you to do me what my mom is doing your son.’That was her excuse. More

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