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That would totally freak her, if she ever found out. On a whim, I stole a pair; cheap plain cotton. She was the sort of woman to miss them. Helen was older than me, so her taste in clothes was just forgivable. I used her hairdryer to dry my hair, and conscientiously picked out my loose hairs from the brush. Michael poked his head around the door and nodded approvingly at my track covering. I stood up and let the towel fall and, over my shoulder, gave Mike my most coquettish smile. However, he had already gone downstairs. I walked into their wardrobe and chose a crisp, pale blue cotton man's shirt, from an expensive tailor. Rolling the sleeves up, I admired myself in the full length mirror. Not bad for 32. The thick cotton struggled to hide my aching nipples and finally surrendered. I left the top two buttons undone. And the bottom one. I did not apply any perfume. Mike has a good sense of smell, and I wanted him to savour my particular musk.

Michael was lounging, on the sofa; a glass of champagne in his hand. I sat on the chair opposite; leaned back, and ever so slowly spread my legs, gradually revealing more and more tanned, toned thigh. I knew that the cotton would fall perfectly to cover my pussy. Michael knew that I would not be wearing knickers. I leaned forward to show some cleavage, licked my lips, and put on my bestest little girl voice. Michael was wearing an old T shirt, and shorts. He was already hard.

"Little Georgie-Porgie, is feeling very small and cold. And needs a big hug from her big brave brother."

I pouted, fluttered my eyelids, and sucked my thumb, then slid off the chair and crossed the carpet on all fours. My eyes were locked to Mike's. I had tried this once with Charley. For a woman who rarely swears, her disapproval was a little shocking.

You never forget your first cock, and I stroked the old familiar organ through the cotton of Mike's shorts. On cue, he lifted his bum, and I yanked his shorts down, my mouth anxious to reach its goal. His cock got slightly caught in the cotton garment then sprang upwards, smacking his belly with a refreshing thwack. Almost instantly his massive organ was at the back of my throat, and I was just managing not to gag. I was out of practice. I slid my tongue up his lovely shaft then teased the smooth, bulbous cock head; licking the salty precum, as it oozed gently from the little slit like hole. Grasping the rigid pole in my right hand, I climbed onto the sofa and enveloped Mike's manhood with my dripping pussy. I gasped as I took his full eight inches. As always, it felt fucking enormous.

Then I kissed him. Like most men, he was not a good kisser. He tended to ram his tongue into my mouth as if it was another cock; and it made me gag more than its priapic namesake.

I pulled Mike's T-shirt off and slowly unbuttoned my shirt. He needed no encouragement at all to bite down hard on my right nipple as I started to ride him. An orgasm was not far off; but this was not what I craved... Grasping Mike's cock I dismounted; leaned forward slightly and speared my arse on his long lance. Whore that I am, I adore anal sex. Always have done.

My very first penetration had been anal. My dad thinks that he popped both of my cherries. Mike has kept the secret. He was there, for my first time, and watched.

As Imogen, my older sister, deflowered me, with a six inch strap on; first back, then front. I remember it like it was yesterday. Our parents were going away for the weekend, and had absolutely forbidden us from having a party. I suggested a threesome instead. Mike and Imo looked shocked, and then blushed as I described in graphic detail what they had done in the back garden four weeks previously. I even showed them the pictures that I had taken. It was hardly blackmail, I thought. To help their decision-making, I grabbed Imo and snogged her hard. It was a hot day and Imo's short dress made accessing her moist cunt effortless. She did not push me away. Now Imo can kiss. Not in quite the same league as Charley, mind you.

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