1. FLIRTING WITH EXHIBITIONISM AND i****t


    Date: 7/28/2015, Categories: Taboo, Voyeur, Author: hard_for_yu, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    one of the hot tub spas. My parents' home became our new playground. If we were alone, we went completely crazy, all over the house. I remember turning up the heat one cold afternoon and mounting Carla on the kitchen table. I stood and she lay back, naked and spread legged, as I pounded into her bald pussy. We were much more careful if my dad and s****r were around, but if my mom was the only one home, we certainly didn't restrain the volume of our activity in my bedroom. And there was always after, when Carla insisted that we go have some of our special fun. &#034Come on, Baby. Let's go show your mommy how much you've grown,&#034 she laughed. Carla surprised me. I knew she had an unabashed, daredevilish, vivacious nature, but the more we indulged in our exhibitionist games, the more she egged me to get more brazen. She loved to push the envelope, even more than I did at times. (This will grow even clearer if you read my follow-up to &#034Flirting with Exhibitionism and i****t,&#034 which focuses sharply on Carla's erotic odyssey. CARLA THE SHOWOFF details Carla's slow and steady slide into a kind of depravity that eclipsed my own). I'll give you an example that will underscore the kind of eye-opening behavior Carla engaged in around my mother and me. This particular incident underscores the fact that Carla became an increasing participant in my showoff activities. In many ways, her antics made my nudity seem tame. I know that's an incredible statement, but judge for ...
    yourself. I remember one night when we were watching the tube. Carla and I were on the couch and mom was in her favorite lounge chair, legs stretched out on the ottoman in front of her. I was nude, Carla was in a short black T-shirt that she'd borrowed from me after another one of our sex-romps, and Mom was in a nightgown and robe. The lights were out in the living room, but enough light shone from the TV to splash us all in a swirl of ever-changing hues. During a commercial break, Carla and my mother started to talk about some aspect of the show we were watching. As they did, Carla ran her hand lazily and nonchalantly up and down my thigh. Little by little, her pretty, red-finger-nail-polished hand came closer and closer to my flaccid member, lying lazily on my upper thigh. Finally, her fingers made contact with my phallus and Carla cupped it gingerly and wiggled it back and forth, back and forth, never missing a single word of the sentence she was vocalizing. I was amazed. My mother didn't seem to take notice, but in retrospect, I'm sure that she did because she loved to stare at me when I was in the nude (which was most of the time, as long as my father was away on his once-weekly out of town trips, and my s****r Lisa made herself scarce). Carla treated my phallus like a conversation piece she'd idly picked up off a coffee table. She seemed to absent-mindedly fondle my ember. She pretended it was the most natural thing in the world to be fondling me, moving her fingers up and down ...
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