I opened my legs wider and inserted the bottle up my well used cunt. I groaned as it slid in easily. Cum oozed out around the sides of this glass dild...e. I continued to fuck myself with it untill my body shuddered once again as I cum to a round of cheers. As I lay there catching my breath, I said the show was now well and truly over. I put my rags back on and shouted to them Id see them around for a return match. They all shouted theyd look forward to it and to make it soon. I got plenty of. Or stout. Or generously built. But Fatima knew that such words were just euphemisms for the same thing, Fat. Gross. Obese. She studied her naked reflection in the wall-length mirror, which was too narrow to encompass the whole of her girth. She was sure she wasn’t ugly as such. She studied her face. Wasn’t her face quite pretty from certain angles? But from the chin down: fold after fold of light brown flesh, overflowing any clothes she wore. If she wore loose clothes, she looked like a sack of. It was as if I had been mesmerized by this new kind of sex for me, being penetrated and entered and filled by someone firm, attentive, and considerate. Some time during the night Monica and Ben came home, and I half-woke to see that Monica was looking in on me. When the light from her room fell across my bed and revealed me sprawled across Jeff, our bed covers tangled on the floor and his long cock still in my hand, I heard her enter and pick up a blanket, then cover the two of us. Then I felt. But apparently I need not have worried. For she was awake. Curious, I padded forward, finding her in the study. It was at the back of the house, a small alcove off a turn in the hallway. The light was on inside, and as I drew closer, I beheld ... well. Quite a spectacle.The computer table faced out into the hall, and my mother's laptop was open and running. And so, for that matter, was she! She wore a hybrid microphone/headphone headset, and nothing else. She had turned the wooden chair around,.
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