“What’s the matter, baby girl?” I ask uneasily, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“Oh, Daddy!” She cries, hugging me tightly. “I just didn’t know I wanted you this much!”
“Neither did I, Karla.” I tell her, stroking her hair. “Neither did I.”
“Well it’s a good thing I was here, then.” Laughs Connie, entering the room carrying three beers. “I figured we could use some refreshment before it’s my turn again. You guys have been ignoring me.” She teases.
Connie walking in naked carrying three beers, her pussy still glistening with moisture, jolts us out of our reverie and Karla leans up, wiping her eyes. My cock is still clamped inside her pussy as she reaches for a beer and takes a drink. She holds the cold beer bottle between her tits then rubs it across her nipples.
“Mmm, that’s cold.” She says, pressing the bottom of the bottle against my chest. I jump and my spent cock pops out of her pussy and we both start laughing. We sit up and make room for Connie on the bed. While I’m recovering, the girls start kissing and touching each other.
“Thank you, Connie.” Karla whispers. “You were right.”
We spend the rest of the weekend in various three-some positions, fucking, sucking and eating each other to exhaustion. When Karla’s ready to leave on Sunday night, the intensity of our goodbye kiss is almost frightening. While clenching me in a tight embrace, she tells me how much she loves me and promises to come home every weekend. Connie jokingly promises to ease off towards the end of the week so I can conserve my strength.
Connie and I sleep together every night and on weekends I sleep sandwiched between these two insatiable goddesses. Every once in a while, Connie again demonstrates the intuitiveness that made her push Karla and I together, by leaving us alone for an evening. On those evenings when it’s just the two of us, our incestuous coupling builds slowly over several hours. From a slow burn, it gains momentum driving us into a frenzied, manic, crescendo that leaves us depleted, totally consumed by our unique, unconventional love.
I don’t record much anymore. I don’t need to. In fact, I may dismantle the monitoring room. I’ve erased most of the videos, keeping key clips that I look at occasionally. One video that will never be erased is that first time with Karla. I’ve edited out Connie bursting in with the beers and just let it end with me holding her, stroking her hair. I’m still aroused by the aggressive intensity of my little girl’s lovemaking. It has to be the most erotic video ever made.
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