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More people whizzed past along thetrail… just a few yards away.Other than the sound of Mel’s slurping between my legs,the mountainside was quiet. Caby kissed me again. Anothergroup of about five skiers came by… and we could hearthat they all stopped just around the bend out of sight.We could even hear them talking. Sounded like a group ofcollege guys and gals. By now Mel’s tongue was driving its way past my pussylips and I leaned back against Caby as I spread my legs.Caby held me as I whispered up to him, “This is weird…we have never had any kind of sex out in the snow. Itreally feels good. My thighs and tummy are cool, but mytits are quite warm and my pussy feels like it is onfire.”No doubt Mel heard me. His licking and nibbling got moreaggressive. The skiers below us had apparently moved ondown the hill… we couldn’t hear them anymore. Then ithit. A warming orgasm washed through my body as a coupleof Mel’s fingers joined. He allowed his mother to pull him into the house, where his father did his best to squeeze his breakfast out through his ears. "Dad ... can't ... breathe." Howard grunted."Leave some for me, Mr. Farrell!" interjected a female voice. His father released him, allowing him to turn toward the sound. He found a diminutive but reasonably curvy frame sheathed in creamy, white skin and one of Howard's oversized T-shirts, topped by a river of straight, crimson hair with blonde highlights that suggested a lava flow, and piercing green eyes. There was a glad smile on the young woman's face, but it took Howard a minute to place her."Mandy?" he asked, and she ran into his arms. "Wow, Mandy, I haven't seen you in years! I thought you moved to Maine!" I did, but I came back." she said. There was anxiety hidden just under the surface, but he didn't have time to probe her just yet."Come on, son, the fish is almost ready. I made it just like you like it."His father had indeed made the fish just like.
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“Sorry. I really wasn’t ... I mean, I didn’t think of that. This.” Her eyes dropped down on the last word, to his lap, and back up again quickly.“It’s OK, Sophia. Really. I’m not mad. How could I be mad? Of course you can look. It’s natural curiosity.”That was sufficient permission for her to recover from her nervousness. She moved forward on her knees another foot, and leaned in, looking at it even more carefully. She had this urge to want to touch it, to see what it felt like. That was a very strange urge. She reflected that if you’d asked her even two hours ago if she would ever want to touch her dad’s boner, she’d have said, quite confidently, no thanks. But somehow, having it in front of her, “live,” so to speak ... well, the “dickness” of it outweighed the “dadness” of it. All the same, she decided this was not a request she would make - mostly out of a consideration for her father’s evident continuing awkwardness.Instead, she rather unpredictably turned around, leaning back.

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