My father came to the door, talked up Artie a bit and then they sat down in the living room with me already waiting on the couch. My father sat next t... me and we all talked for a bit. I had to make it look realistic, so I started rubbing my father’s cock through his pants. Artie and my father talked for a quite a bit, drinking with conversation. Part 2 of the plan was to get Artie pretty well hammered. But Artie knew he couldn’t drink too much, he had to shell me out to all those horny men. I was a teenage kid then, and I think most of us have dreams of that sort at that age.The problem is when those dreams and ideas don't really go away, and nag at the back of your mind. When you stop being a kid and still close your eyes, and see the image of your mother on her knees, long black hair draped down across her naked shoulders and back, hands on her breasts, begging up at you to bless her with your cock, calling you "master". When you dream of your sister clawing at your back as she. More

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