Turning back to face the women, I leaned against the pole, and ran a hand over my chest, before pushing it down the front of the trousers. At that provocation, one of the women in a wedding dress tried to stand up on her table, and throw her tiara at me, asking me to come and return it in person. Thankfully, one of her own party gently coaxed her down with a grin on her face. Rachel's eyes never left my hand as I gently inserted it into the trousers, and used it to slowly, inch by agonising inch, undo the zip. There was also the small matter of the belt, and I was conscious too that the belt was home to a pair of handcuffs. With the zip completely undone, I moved my hand up to the belt buckle. I knew that when the trousers came off, then the only thing protecting my manhood was the world's smallest thong. While I'd been caught up in the moment, taking off my shirt and my trousers, I also knew I was careening out of control towards the ultimate moment of truth. Seeking to postpone. Like all things in life, sex was just a game of power, only this was distilled to its purest, most carnal form. “Mommy, you’re making me come!” Elena moaned. Lydia subdued her daughter’s attempted thrusts by pressing down on her hips, and as Elena whined in distress, Lydia milked her. She pushed her middle finger into her daughter’s anus, which opened to accept her and closed to embrace her, and she curled the digit within to squeeze all the nectar out. Elena sobbed ecstatically, covering her face with her hands like she could not believe the sensations coursing through her, and Lydia slurped and swallowed her daughter’s second expulsion until Elena’s cock was left red and swollen, but still magically rigid. I knew enough about lust from hearsay to know that it was rare for a man to perform after one climax, but Elena was still eager for more after two. She stared lustfully at her mother, then they both looked back at me. “What now, my lady?” Lydia asked me expectantly. Her eyes were.
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