Frank Brown: The Smiths come together!

"Ohhhh!" Wendy sighed, her toes clawing the balls of her feet, her fingernails digging into Cynthia's ass.

Tremors passed through her body as she came, and Cynthia slurped loudly, sucking up Wendy's hot cunt-juices. As Wendy spasmed, she continued to gnaw at Cynthia's pussy, and before her orgasm had subsided Cynthia went into spasms, too.

"Uhhhh! Uhhhh!" Cynthia moaned, her petite body jerking as the hot spasms overwhelmed her.

She humped her pussy in Wendy's mouth, feeding Wendy her tart-sweet pussy-cream as the fuck-pleasure pulsed through her again and again. As Cynthia came, Patrick flicked his tongue in and out of her spasming asshole.

Patrick jerked up suddenly, his hand a blur on his giant cock. Bridging himself over the two girls, he started shooting jizz on their squirming bodies.

"Ohhh, yeahhh!" Patrick groaned, his body jerking, streams of white fuck-juice spurting from his cock.

He trembled, trying to hold himself up as he spasmed, but his strength gave out before he was done shooting and he fell on the two girls, shooting the last of his cum in Wendy's ear.

At last, the threesome un-piled.

"Yuk!" Wendy said, cleaning Patrick's cum out of her ear. "You guys can be such animals."

"Look who's talking," Patrick said as Wendy and Cynthia once again licked his cum off each other. "There's more on the floor, cum-lickers."

Patrick smiled as the two girls crouched like two kittens and licked his fuck-cream off the bare wood floor.

From the office adjacent to the studio, from behind the two-way mirror, Greta watched the two naked girls lap up her son's cum from the dance floor. Their bare asses were up in the air and their ass puckers quivered between their buns, moist with Patrick's saliva.

Greta didn't know what shocked her most about all this: Morgan's secret window? The two girls? Patrick? Or herself?

Morgan had a lot of explaining to do – if she ever dared confront him. And she could never again look at those two girls, or Patrick, as if they were innocent, perfect young saints. Now she knew otherwise. As for herself – she could no longer deny her true feelings toward her son, her secret wicked feelings, feelings she'd kept buried for so many years.

Morgan Smith drove blindly through the snowstorm, amazed that he hadn't already slid off the road or plowed into another car. The night looked blinding white through the windshield, with the snow coming down so heavy that the wipers could hardly keep the windshield clear. If he ever got these last two girls, and he and his daughter, delivered home safely, it would be a miracle. A voice on the hissing, buzzing car radio repeatedly warned people to stay home and off the roads.

The girls he hadn't yet delivered home – one left in the back seat, and his daughter and the other one in the front – were tensely quiet. They no longer squealed and shrieked and gigged as they'd done when they'd first climbed into the car. Now they stared ahead into the snowy darkness, holding their breaths as the car weaved down the road. Seated in the middle of the front seat next to Morgan, Candace Wilson pressed up close to him as if for comfort. And Morgan, despite his nervousness, was just about shooting off in his pants.

Christ! Morgan thought, swallowing. He'd run off the road for sure now. The ice and snow and darkness were bad enough, but with Candace all but sitting in his lap, he couldn't concentrate on his driving. And it wasn't just Candace that was interfering with his concentration – the smell in the car was enough to send any man to Lotus Land. All those teenaged girls crowded together inside one car gave off a combined female scent that could short-circuit a man's brain cells and put him in the asylum for life. With each breath he took, his mind swam and his cock pulsed.

"I'm so glad you're driving, Mr. Smith," said Candace, pushing up even closer to Morgan. "I feel so secure with you behind the wheel." Her hand dropped on his thigh and squeezed.

Morgan laughed nervously and turned up the radio, hoping to drown out the sound of his slamming heart, which he was sure all three girls could hear. His cock was throbbing to be freed from his pants. His underwear were getting wet with cock-lube.

As they passed within a block of Morgan's house, Susanne, who was sitting next to Candace in the front seat, asked to be let out.

"Are you sure?" Morgan said. "It'll only be a little while before we get Candace and Rosemary home, and then in a few minutes we'll be home, ourselves."

"Don't worry, Daddy," Susanne said. "I can make it a block on foot. I'll have some hot chocolate ready for you when you get home."

"All right," Morgan said. "Don't get frostbite."

Snow blew into the car as Susanne climbed out the door. As Morgan eased the car ahead, Candace remained seated close to him, pressed up against him. He considered reminding her that there was more room in the front seat now and that she could slide over, but he knew that would sound strange. As Candace pressed closer to him, her hand continuing to rub his thigh and edging closer and closer to his cock, he thought he must be dreaming.

She's making a pass at me, for Christsake! he thought. Is it for real, or is she just playing games, seeing how far she can push me before I lose my mind?

He pressed on the accelerator, spinning the tires and making the car fishtail. In the back seat, Rosemary gasped.

Five minutes later Rosemary was climbing out of the car in front of her house. Only Candace remained to be delivered home.

"We're alone, finally," Candace said as Morgan pulled the car away from Rosemary's house. "Aren't you glad?"

"What's your address again?" Morgan said, pretending not to have heard the question.

Candace told him. "But there's no need to hurry, Mr. Smith." She began easing her fingers down in his pants.

"Candace…"

"Candy," said the girl. "I like to be called Candy. I'll bet you like Candy better too, don't you?"

"I like it fine, but…"

She shoved her hand deep in his pants and wrapped her fingers around his rigid cock. "Ohhh, it's a big one! I just knew you had a big one!"

"Candy! Oh. Jesus!"

Morgan pulled the car over before he lost control of it. He set the parking brake and sat there shaking as the blonde teenager massaged his cock.

"I love it!" purred the prima ballerina. "It's so hot and hard and wet!"

Morgan couldn't control himself another second. He wrapped his arms around the purring little slut and cruched his mouth to hers. She groaned, sucking his tongue, moving her soft hand up and down his hard cock and working his foreskin up and down.

They kissed until they were breathless, Candy's hot tongue flicking in Morgan's mouth, Candy's honey-sweet spit sliding down his throat. Morgan pushed his hand down into her jeans and onto her silky, sizzling-hot young pussy. He worked his finger between her cuntlips. He pushed the finger inside her and probed the wet, fluffy crevices of her, hot fuck-hole. He was dangerously close to shooting off in his pants.

Candy broke their kiss. She was flushed and panting. "I'm so hot, Mr. Smith! Will you fuck me?"

"Jesus Christ!" Morgan muttered. "Here?"

"It'll be easy," Candy said. "I'll ride it. All you've gotta do is sit there."

If it hadn't been night, with a blizzard going on, Morgan might have hesitated to fuck Candy in the front seat of his car, only a few blocks from her house. But under the circumstances, with the streets deserted, who would catch them? He couldn't resist.

"Okay," he said.

As he moved to the middle of the front seat and shoved his pants down to his knees, Candy kicked off her shoes and peeled off her jeans and panties. Before Morgan could stop her, she threw off the rest of her clothes – her ski jacket, her blouse, and her bra. Stark naked, her silky body throwing off heat like an oven, she straddled Morgan's lap and shoved her big tits in his face.