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Many moons ago I lived with a friend and her family. My bedroom was on the bottom floor, theirs was on the top, with the kitchen and lounge on the floor between us. My friend Amy herself was an attractive woman in her late 40s, petite with ginger hair, and a robust personality that filled every room. The kind of person you couldn't take your eyes off of because she really was like lightening in a bottle. It also helped that her ass was tighter than a drum. As well as my friend was her two daughters. The eldest was Michelle, mid-20s with light hair, slender and tall, with sharp features that suggested a quick wit (which she had in abundance) and an aura about her that told you not to fuck with her. I could tell she got that from her mother. By far the more outgoing of the sisters, it wasn't long before tattoos appeared in random places on her body which was easy for all to see as she liked to wear next to nothing. What she lacked for in curves she made up for in spunk and confidence. The younger sister, Sophie, at the age of 21, could not be any more different. Dark shoulder length hair that always stood out against her pale porcelain skin, she had the best smile you could ever wish to see. A truly delightful person with an artistic flair that suggested a truly talented person. Where her sister was vivacious and confident, she was quiet and shy. Where Michelle was tall, slim and regularly wore ragged shorts, Sophie would be wearing jumpers with denim jeans pulled tight against her peachy looking ass. In the beginning everything was fine - polite even. No one would enter the common space i.e. the living room or kitchen, without proper clothing on. But of course through time people relaxed and felt more comfortable. This lead to some spectacular results. One early morning I wandered up to the kitchen half asleep, it was a late November morning so everywhere was dark. As I filled my bowl with cereal, a bleary eyed Michelle also appeared, muttering the usual morning pleasantries and went about getting her breakfast. What was different here was that this was the first time she appeared wearing just her mini shorts. As she went about her business going into various cupboards, I sat at the breakfast bar eating my cereal but my eyes glued to her ass. I could not take my eyes off it. I could see the bottom of a tattoo on her lower back, and almost the hint of her ass crack. I could feel the blood rushing south. All I had on was my thin cotton pyjama bottoms and was helpless to stop the rock hard erection that came my way. Fortunately this was hidden by the breakfast bar. "Up early this morning?" she suddenly asked. "What?!" I stuttered, my erection throbbing just out of sight. She laughed, almost slyly. "Don't worry. I know first up usually has to make the coffee. But I won't tell", she said, putting her finger to her mouth. With that she grabbed her bowl, and left. I rapidly dumped my dishes in the sink, stumbled downstairs to my bedroom, and stripped naked immediately. This was a masturbation session I was going to really enjoy. The images of Michelle's skinny tight ass was flooding in my brain. I settled down on my bed with my knees up, took hold of my cock, and started pumping. Hard, fast and deep. Sweat started to appear on my body, my stomach and legs moist with sweat. My cock was swollen and desperate to cum. I heard voices in the passage outside my bedroom door but I did not stop. With each stroke I pictured Michelle's ass. What it must feel like when squeezed, when spanked. The noise she would make when it was eaten, or fucked. The feeling of spreading those tight cheeks and slipping my cock inside. My hand was moving up and down my cock so furiously now that my bed started to squeak slightly, but I was too far gone to care. An image of being caught turned me on even more. It was this final image that made me explode. Streams of cum flew everywhere, covering my torso and legs in the glistening sticky substance. I lay panting, picking up my underwear and mopping up my spent juice. It was then I heard quiet footsteps walking away from my door - someone had been listening to my wanking session. I pulled on some clothes and cautiously opened the door, not exactly certain what to say if I did see someone. No one was there. But on the ground, deliberately placed, was a pair of white female panties. I picked them up, thinking they may have fallen from a laundry pile. But they were soaking. I sniffed them and was immediately overpowered by the unmistakable stench of wet pussy. I inhaled them, biting them even, the glorious smell filling my nostrils. Someone had been at my door and clearly enjoyed what they heard. I just had to find out who.

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