The living-room curtains were half-drawn, sunlight striping the wide leather couch in lazy gold bars.
The three of them had collapsed there after breakfast, still naked, still sticky, still too hungry to bother with clothes.
Sophia moved first.
She straddled Lucas reverse-cowgirl, knees sinking deep into the cushions, back arched so her 36K tits thrust forward like an offering.
She reached between her thighs, gripped his cock (eleven inches, hard again, slick from their earlier shower), and sank down in one slow, greedy glide.
The sound she made was pure filth: a low, broken moan that echoed off the vaulted ceiling.
Elena watched for exactly three seconds, eyes dark, then climbed up and planted her knees on either side of Lucas's head.
"Open," she ordered softly.
Lucas's hands shot to her hips, pulling her down until her dripping pussy sealed over his mouth.
His tongue speared inside her instantly, fucking her with the same rhythm Sophia was already riding him.
Two women, one cock, one tongue.
Perfect symmetry.
Sophia rolled her hips in slow, filthy circles, pussy swallowing every inch of her nephew on every down-stroke.
Elena ground against her son's face, clit dragging over his nose, cream coating his chin.
They faced each other over Lucas's body, eyes locked, mouths open on shared breath.
Elena leaned forward first, cupped Sophia's heavy tits, thumbs flicking both nipples until Sophia whimpered.
Sophia returned the favor, squeezing Elena's 34J breasts, rolling the nipples between sticky fingers, then pulling her sister into a deep, messy kiss.
Tongues slid, teeth nipped, moans poured straight into each other's mouths.
Below them, Lucas was lost to the world.
His hips snapped up to meet Sophia's every descent, balls slapping her ass in wet, rhythmic smacks.
His tongue fucked Elena in perfect counterpoint, curling to hit her G-spot, then flattening to lash her clit.
The couch creaked beneath them, leather sticking to sweat-slick skin.
Elena broke the kiss first, voice trembling.
"Touch me while he fucks you, Soph. Rub my clit. Make me cum on our baby's face."
Sophia's hand slid down Elena's belly, two fingers finding her swollen clit, circling fast and sure.
Elena returned the favor, reaching between Sophia's thighs to rub tight circles over the place where Lucas's cock disappeared into her sister again and again.
The room filled with wet sounds: pussy on cock, tongue in pussy, fingers on clits, three heartbeats racing toward the same cliff.
Sophia went first, back bowing, tits bouncing wildly as her orgasm crashed through her.
Her pussy clamped down so hard Lucas groaned into Elena, the vibration sending Elena over seconds later.
She came with a scream muffled against Sophia's shoulder, squirting straight into Lucas's eager mouth, thighs shaking around his head.
That was all it took.
Lucas's hips jerked up hard, burying himself to the root in Sophia, and he erupted: thick, endless ropes of cum flooding her cunt, pulse after pulse, until it overflowed and ran down his shaft in creamy rivers.
Sophia kept riding through it, milking every drop, while Elena kept rubbing her clit, drawing the orgasm out until Sophia was sobbing into Elena's neck.
When Sophia finally lifted off, a torrent of cum followed, splashing across Lucas's abs and thighs.
Elena slid down instantly, licked him clean, slow worshipful swipes from balls to tip, gathering their mixed release.
Then she crawled up, kissed Sophia so they could both taste him, then kissed Lucas so he could taste all three of them.
They collapsed sideways, a sweaty, trembling pile: Lucas in the middle, one arm around each woman, cock still half-hard against Elena's thigh, Sophia's tits pressed to his back.
The sun shifted, painting new stripes across their skin.
Elena traced lazy circles on Lucas's chest.
"Every afternoon," she murmured, "exactly like this."
Sophia nipped his shoulder, voice husky.
"Every morning, every night, every fucking minute."
Lucas pulled them tighter, kissed them both slow and deep.
"Deal," he said. "Forever starts right now."
The moon hung huge and silver over the lake, turning the water into liquid mercury.
Elena and Sophia walked hand-in-hand down the dock, naked, skin glowing like pearl.
Lucas followed a step behind, cock already jutting up against his stomach, eleven inches of moonlight-shadowed need.
At the very end they sank to their knees together, side-by-side on the warm planks, the lake lapping softly beneath them.
Elena looked up first, eyes shining.
"Give us your cum under the moon, baby. Paint your mother and your aunt like the sluts we are for you."
Sophia licked her lips, leaned in, and dragged her tongue from Lucas's heavy balls all the way to the tip in one slow, worshipful stripe.
Lucas groaned, threading fingers through both women's hair.
They took turns like they'd rehearsed it in dreams.
Elena swallowed him first: lips stretching wide, throat opening, taking every inch until her nose pressed against his pelvis.
She held there, humming, cheeks hollow, eyes watering with love.
Sophia didn't wait.
She ducked lower, mouth sealing around his balls, sucking gently, tongue swirling, drawing filthy sounds from deep in his chest.
Thirty seconds.
Then they switched.
Sophia's turn: she took him even deeper somehow, throat fluttering around the head, gagging softly but never pulling back.
Elena licked his sack, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin behind, making his thighs shake.
They kept trading: perfect rhythm, perfect teamwork.
One deep-throating while the other worshipped his balls, then swapping again, saliva dripping, strings of it connecting their lips to his cock, shining silver in the moonlight.
Lucas's hips started to jerk.
His grip tightened in their hair.
"Close," he growled. "Fuck, I'm so close."
Elena and Sophia pulled off at the same second, mouths open, tongues out, foreheads pressed together, tits pushed forward.
"Do it," Elena begged. "Cover us. Mark us. Please, baby."
Sophia echoed her, voice wrecked: "Paint your aunt and your mommy, Lucas. Give us every drop."
He fisted himself once, twice, and erupted.
The first rope shot across Elena's face: thick, white, perfect, striping from her forehead to her chin.
The second hit Sophia square on the tongue, dripping down onto her massive tits.
He kept coming: rope after rope, painting cheeks, lips, necks, breasts, until both women were glazed and dripping, moonlight making the cum glow like liquid starlight.
They didn't let a single drop go to waste.
Elena licked Sophia's face clean, slow and deliberate, then kissed her deep so they could share the taste.
Sophia returned the favor, tongue gathering cum from Elena's tits, feeding it back to her in filthy, open-mouthed kisses.
When their faces were mostly clean, they turned to Lucas's still-hard cock and licked him together: two tongues swirling around the head, sliding down opposite sides, meeting at the base, kissing around him until he was shaking again.
Finally Elena pulled back, cum still glistening on her lashes.
"Carry us to bed," she whispered. "We're not done. The moon's still up."
Lucas scooped them both up: one under each arm like they weighed nothing, and walked back to the house while they kissed his neck, his chest, his jaw, leaving sticky trails.
Inside, he tossed them onto the mattress, climbed over them, and spent the rest of the night sliding from one pussy to the other, slow and deep, until the moon set and the three of them were too wrecked to move.
The first pink rays were just licking the windows when the three of them tumbled naked into the kitchen, too desperate to make it to the bedroom.
Elena dropped to the tiles first, back flat, legs spread wide.
Sophia crawled over her in one fluid move, knees on either side of Elena's head, mouth already descending to her sister's dripping pussy.
Sixty-nine, perfect mirror image.
Two sets of huge tits pressed together, two tongues spearing into soaked cunts at the same moment.
They moaned into each other, the sound muffled and wet, hips rolling in slow, greedy circles.
Lucas stood over them, cock in hand, watching for exactly five seconds before he lost his mind.
He knelt behind Sophia first (because she was on top) and slid into her in one brutal thrust.
Sophia screamed into Elena's clit, the vibration making Elena buck and squirt across her sister's face.
Ten strokes.
Deep, punishing, balls slapping Elena's forehead with every drive.
Then he pulled out, slick with Sophia's cream, and slammed straight into Elena beneath her.
Now Elena was the one screaming into Sophia's pussy, the cycle repeating.
Ten strokes in Elena.
Ten in Sophia.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The kitchen filled with obscene sounds: wet flesh on flesh, muffled cries, the slap of Lucas's hips against whichever ass was presented, the squelch of two pussies being swapped over and over.
Sophia came first, violently, pussy clamping around nothing the second Lucas pulled out, squirting straight into Elena's open mouth.
Elena swallowed greedily, then shattered seconds later when Lucas buried himself back inside her, her own orgasm gushing across Sophia's tongue.
Lucas never slowed.
He kept the rhythm merciless, hands gripping hips, switching holes like he was possessed.
"Gonna fill you both," he growled. "Back and forth until you're dripping on the floor."
They begged for it: two voices, one plea.
He gave Sophia the first load: slammed deep, held still, and pumped rope after thick rope into her spasming cunt.
Didn't even let the last spurt finish before he pulled out and shoved into Elena, giving her the rest, flooding her until cum poured out around his shaft and pooled on the tiles beneath them.
They collapsed sideways, still tangled, still licking, Lucas's cock sliding free with a wet pop.
Sophia rolled off, lay on her back beside Elena, both women panting, thighs trembling, cum leaking from swollen pussies in steady streams.
Lucas dropped between them, licking one clean, then the other, slow and reverent, until they were shaking with aftershocks.
When he finally crawled up their bodies, they pulled him down into the mess, three mouths meeting in a slow, filthy kiss that tasted like all of them.
Elena traced his lips with a cum-slick finger.
"Every sunrise," she whispered, "we start the day exactly like this."
Sophia nipped his jaw, grinning.
"Every sunset, every midnight, every breath."
Lucas kissed them both, hands already sliding back between their thighs.
"Then let's never stop breathing."
Outside, the sun cleared the trees, flooding the kitchen in gold.
Inside, mother, son, and aunt stayed sprawled on the cool tile, tongues and fingers and cock already moving again, ready to greet the new day the only way they ever wanted to: together, dripping, and never, ever done.