Page 86 of Following Their Heart

“Yeah. Got it.” He’s a bobblehead on a dashboard, and it’s the cutest thing ever.

“All right. Go on. See how wet your sister is for us.”

Scrap’s hand distorts the heart pattern as he pushes it down between Cora’s pale thighs. I know what he’s feeling. Her lightly groomed, natural curls. Her puffy outer lips. Her dark, warm slit. Her little pleasure-pearl. Then hot, wet slickness and the silky inner lips guarding her channel.

His chest shudders, and I know he’s there. He’s reached her hot, wet center.

“Is your brother following instructions, baby girl? Is he touching you but not going inside?”

Cora’s eyes are closed. Her lips part around a sigh. “Yes, Daddy. He’s being good.”

“Mmm. That’s nice to hear. Do you like how his fingers feel there, right there over your wet pussy?”

She nods, slowly, like she’s focusing on the feeling.

“Is your pussy hungry for more than what he’s giving you?”

“Yes,” she says without hesitation.

“Too bad.” I move into her space. Against her lips, I say, “He’s going to keep his hand right there and not move a muscle while I kiss you as long as I want.” And I take her mouth in a hot, long kiss.

My hand cups her face, and I slide my tongue over hers, drinking in her faint moan. All the while, my dick bobs between us, and Scrap is a tan, tense statue, and he follows directions perfectly.

When I’ve had my fill of Cora’s mouth, I issue my next order. “Now, son.” I slide Cora’s panties down her legs. “You’re going to go up under your sister’s nightie with one hand and play with her nipples and keep this hand right here—” I pat his hand, knowing that my touch pushes his fingertips tighter against her wetness. “While I taste my little girl’s innocent pussy.” I move into position, lying flat on the bed with my face between Cora’s thighs.

When I look up, Scrap has his eyes screwed shut. He seems to be holding his breath. I chuckle and notice Cora has her eyes on me. Their deep-ocean blue is made darker with carnal hunger. The sight of my two babies like this makes me so hot I have to force myself not to hump at the bed.

Cora’s legs go obligingly over my shoulders, which force Scrap’s legs wide. Nestled between Cora’s thighs, her scent hits me and makes my mouth water. Oceans and flowers. Sweetness and salty tang. Yum! I dive in, tongue lapping at Scrap’s trembling fingers and Cora’s fluttering pussy. I’m rough, and I know it’s forcing Scrap’s hand to put pressure on my little girl’s clit.

While I feast, and while Scrap holds himself still, Cora’s breath hitches.

A glance up her body shows Scrap’s other hand busy under the teddy bear. I can make out the outline of his thumb and forefinger plucking at her nipple. Such a good boy!

Because the sight is so perfect, I keep my gaze on the outline of Scrap’s nimble fingers while I push my tongue past the fingers he has over Cora’s pussy. I’m entering her. Tasting and sucking and probing into her hot, tight entrance.

My nose is jammed against Scrap’s knuckles. I’m making his hand hump over her pussy with each thrust of my tongue.

Cora’s quick breathing turns to tiny, rhythmic cries.

Backing off slightly, I give new instructions. “Scrappy boy, let your hand relax. I’m going to guide your middle finger inside your sister’s pussy. It’s too beautiful inside her for me to enjoy it all by myself.”

Carefully, I take Scrap’s middle finger and push it between Cora’s swollen lips. Watching that digit get swallowed up by the prettiest, pinkest, silken channel sends spirals of pleasure straight to my cock.

Lowering my head again, I make my tongue hard and push it inside Cora under Scrap’s finger.

A loud groan fills the room. It’s mine. I sound like a bear waking from hibernation. Two distinct tastes play on my tongue. The salt of Scrap’s skin and the silken ambrosia of Cora’s arousal.

Using my tongue like a dick, I keep it hard and I hump Scrap’s hand against her. My whole body is into it, and the quilts on the bed rub my dick so good while I work.

Soon, Cora’s cries become sharp. I glance up to see Scrap’s hand fully grasping her breast. Her face is turned up to him, and he has his tongue down her throat.

My beautiful babies look so good kissing like that.

I groan while Cora’s cries grow louder. Soon, she’s bowing off the bed, and I have to hold onto her to keep my tongue seated.

I’m so close to coming I have to force myself to back off my bed-humping. I don’t want to waste this load on the quilts. I have a special place I want to put it.

“Time to change things up,” I say, and I give new instructions.

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