Dad & daughter agree with mom on what to do together

My brother Joe has already told you about the adult breastfeeding relationship our mother had with both my late father and me. But he did not know what happened to me, to us when our mother was away from home and my brother was studying abroad.

An aunt of mine was gravely ill, and my mother flew to her home in order to bid her last farewell.

I was already 22, but slept in my parents’ room, as mom had induced lactation on me, and I needed being suckled by mom three times between sunset and sunrise; dad always enjoyed looking at these intimate moments of ours, and, I admit, being watched by him added some excitation to the one provided by mom’s lips and tongue.

Mom and me were always naked when she suckled me, and dad began rubbing his penis against mom’s buttocks. The first time he did that, mom laughed, coughed as my milk went the wrong way inside her, and nearly bit my nipple.

I laugh now while thinking at it, but I was too excited, and I have never had the bright sense of humour mom has, so I simply stared at them, open-mouthed.

Mom told dad: “You are hot, while I am wet. Please, heat my stove with your firebrand!”

Dad was more amazed than me, but as mom raised her left leg open [I was lying on my back, while she was lying on her right side, sucking my left nipple], dad laid down behind her, and inserted his penis into her vulva.

He did not throb, as he and mom were contented with being “interlocked”, but … to be comfortable he had to place his head over my thighs — or more precisely, his cheek over my pubis.

I pointed at what was my father doing, and mom solved the problem drastically: she put her hand under dad’s head, so replacing the slight friction my father’s cheek was causing with her fingers’ deeper contact.

My excitation piled up, and dad was wicked enough to kiss and lick my mother’s hand repeatedly — technically, he was stimulating mom, but I felt like he was doing that to me!

I could not stay put: my right hand was on mom’s shoulder, as usual, but I could not help lower it down to her left breast, massage her nipple the way farmers massage cows before milking them, and then to stroke her left side, hip and buttock.

I inadvertently rubbed my father’s hip (he was penetrating mom from behind, so his belly was facing her butt), and he deftly removed it from his body, so it fell between mom’s thighs.

Mom was mimicking my gestures, so her left hand was caressing my right nipple, raising it and, by lightly circling it, causing it to spill a few milk droplets.

I was so excited that I climbed mom’s thighs until I met my father’s penis keeping her vulva wide open; I raised my middle finger until I met mom’s hard clitoris — a couple strokes were enough to send her into ecstasy.

As her vaginal muscles contracted, so my father ejaculated, and my mother’s left fingers, the ones which gallantly defended my virtue from my father’s wicked appetites, contracted rubbing my clitoris and lips — we all three nearly had simultaneous orgasm.

“We should change position,” mom said.

I did not move, but mom raised her butt and begun sucking my left breast the way a goat eats thistle, while dad was kneeling behind her and penetrating her again.

I wanted to touch mom’s breasts again, but dad had already grabbed them — mom decided to timeshare them, so she grabbed my left hand and put it on her left nipple, while dad kept grabbing her right one. After a while she swapped breasts, so dad grabbed her left nipple and my left hand grabbed her right breast.

Mom was good at concealing orgasms — after years of making love more than once a day, she learned this difficult art too — but I was not good to hide my excitation. Mom served me by stroking my vulva with her right hand, while she was leading my left hand towards her clitoris again, but she realized that I needed something else.

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