Racy family menage
Some may say I'm lucky, but others who share the same birthday as me will take a different view. My birthday falls on Christmas Day. Yet here I was, getting up excited early on Christmas morning, just turned nineteen.
I was prepared as usual for the 'single, double' present that covered both birthday and Christmas.
But at least it was under a tree.
I helped decorate the pine with these new supersized handmade specialities: eight-inch peppermint candy canes, which were recently made available for Christmas.
I was excited and gambolled downstairs to the lounge, still in my petite nightie. No one would be up, and I was confident in my body and looks. Yep, my nightie was skimpy and sensual, but it covered what needed to be protected, well, basically.
There was only one guy in the house, my recent new stepdad, and I hadn't caught him leering at me, though maybe he was a crafty, experienced guy who knew when to look. Like when a girl was vulnerable but not looking back, like bending over at a cupboard or going up the stairs.
We were going for a bonding family holiday to New Caledonia after the New Year, so there were only three wrapped boxes under the tree. One for me, one for my mum and the other for mum's recently acquired new man, Frank. The problem was that the wrapping paper was pink on two of them and blue on the other. I assumed the big blue package was for Frank. Power tools or something. But I wasn't sure which one of the others was for my mum or me.
I shook both, but nothing was given away. There was nothing for it but to open one carefully and hope it was mine. If not, I would stick it together as best I could or offer to open it for Mum later so she wouldn't know I peeked.
I expected a new phone and had hinted long and hard for the latest device with all the zany features. My long nails did an excellent job on the tacky Christmas tape, the pink outer layer was nicely off, and there was a cute box with a little card on top.
I opened the card on the box lid. Although it was addressed to Mum, the message intrigued me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have opened the box.
The message read: Santa's little helper.
What? Then I thought, God, they were still so into each other; he had got her something saucy and naughty. A red thong popped into my mind but thankfully, not my mum's arse inside it.
I opened the lid.
Then, I barely stifled a loud "Oh, My God."
There was a vibrator, but it was Christmas-themed. It was shaped and coloured like a candy cane with just a slight bend at the tip to accentuate a woman's pleasure, I suppose.
Well, I knew enough from my own fingers exploring myself that the pleasure depths were in hooking and crooking and digging around a bit inside myself. But I'd never used a vibrator because a college boy's cock did a great job of satisfying me.
I don't know where the desire came from, but I got the filthy urge to suck the tip of the vibrator to see if it was a reasonable substitute cock. I doubted it but followed my curiosity.
Sucking the tip was deliciously naughty. Though I'd have preferred a cock or a giant sweet candy cane from the tree in my mouth.
Next, I flicked the switch—just the lowest setting.
Well, I had to know.
"Orrgh," I managed before my mouth and dirty brain were captivated by the soft pulsing vibration interacting with my lips, mouth and tongue.
Fuck, I thought, I had to know what its impact would be like down there.
It was too easy to poke my boobs out of my skimpy nightie top and ease my silky nightie knickers away from my already excited pussy. I had to try the vibration on my nipples. It was dazzling. It was a lip-smacking, tingly delight. It pulsated, and my nipples just hardened and responded with frisky pleasure to the amazing reverberations making my big boobs judder, jiggle and jounce.
"Oh, fuck, that's good," I mouthed loudly.
Of course, I headed way south rather quickly after that stunning response by my tits.
I played around my crinkled lips, my pussy opening and clit hood, all riveted and flesh seduced by the throbbing pulses of the toy.
Fuck, it was better than I could do myself or even a guy's rapid-flicking tongue, and it was still on the lowest speed setting. My pussy walls quivered as I eased the curved head into my captivating wetness.
Wow, was I already naturally lubed? The oscillating rhythm was cunt magic. I could feel it resonate everywhere inside my girly pleasure zone.
I had to turn the setting up to know.
"Oh Fuck," I yelped.
I gasped and panted in pleasure. I was quieter, I suppose. But I was beyond caring what I sounded like; it was too astonishingly good. The throb and pulse had me craving a deeper crooking push from the vibrator.
So I was fucking myself with the toy while it fucked me. Ripple after ripple of divine pleasure. Staggering loads of ecstasy. But by then, I was seriously buffeting and pounding my greedy, demanding cunt.
Where I got the filthy desire to bend over and push into my pussy from behind, I don't know. I had a penchant for a good dogging, but there I was, shoving the vibrating candy cane toy in and out of my pussy, between my back legs.
What flowed was a blur; yes, my orgasms were a blur of pure joy, but I got all my Christmas wishes and more at once and a memorable nineteenth, too.
"Happy Birthday," said my steppie, Frank, jagging his thick erect cock straight into my mouth.
The depraved sod was fully naked.
I realised I had woken him up with my pleasured noises. And my mum too.
"Merry Christmas," said my mum, rimming a candy cane, stripped from the tree, around my tight arse crack.
I was gulping cock happily.
Gugh! Gugh! Gugh!
My mum then had the vibrator pleasing my pussy on the frickin express speed setting.
I heard the buzz while she spat in my arse and poked the Christmas tree candy cane into my arsehole. Talk about a girl being over-stuffed. My mouth was packed with a hammering cock. My pussy jammed with my mother's Christmas present, and my arsehole took pleasure from a candy cane cramming its way in deeper and deeper. God, I feared the full eight inches of that stiff cane.
My skin lit up in a sexual flush as bright as the tree's lights. My pussy had the entire throbbing tingles of a great climax. I was sexually glowing. Every hole in my body opened and filled with relish and delight under our family Christmas tree.
But as my stepdaddy went under me and spiked his cock straight into my arse, I suddenly knew what riveting, spellbinding pleasure was. He shanked my arse. Lanced and impaled me. I felt like I was going to split open, but the swelling, tight cock delight was more dominant.
A more depraved, debased action followed just after. My mother assailed my pussy with the candy cane that had been up my arse while she used the vibrator directly on my swollen clitty.
"Whew! Dang, that is so-ooo good! Ooh! Ooh!"
No shame from her. No guilt from my humping stepdaddy drilling up into my arse underneath me. I didn't feel cheap either. I was overwhelmed by pleasure and craving the release of another quickly mounting orgasm.
My clitty throbbed. My arse surged. My pussy pulsed. I was panting, near gulping for breath and heaving in body-building pleasure. Frank knew how to use his mature cock, like a power tool.
The bastard had to jag, claw and torment my arsehole into buggerised submission as he creamed my delighted bum. My mum, Sally, had to stretch, flick, caress, and buffet and lambaste my pussy and clitty into orgasm capitulation.
Did I cum?
Yes, yes, yes.
I had my first squirting experience.
"Aah —uuhhh!"
The pressure exerted through my arse by cock, in my pussy by the twisting candy cane, and the direct pulses of the vibrator on my clitty intensified everything. I ejaculated all over my mum's close face.
I felt contracting spasms in my arse and pussy and around my clit. So intense. So intense. Then, a surge of well-being right through my body.
"Wow, you wild child," said my mum, as my squirt juices were still dribbling in droplets from her face and around her well-formed boobs.
"Like your mum, very talented," said my stepdad easing me off his cock.
"Well, happy birthday, "said Mum, handing me my unopened present from beneath the Christmas tree, "But I think in some ways you'd prefer mine."
And as she handed me my present, I got the full frontal of my mum's lower body in a tight red thong.
"No problem," said Frank, repacking the vibrator in its box and giving it to me, "Happy Christmas."
So, I got two presents for my birthday on Christmas Day.
Oh, yes, the obvious ones; a phone and the vibrator, but the meaningful ones, my step dads cock up my virginal arsehole and my unrealised squirting talent revealed; courtesy of my mum.