Well, just plain odd. Not that 'it' coming from what appeared to be a floating wooden log was any less strange."Or a bronzed, elf eared, blue eyed blond bomb shell for that matter!" He thought with a smile."I understand you need some custom sizing of a family heir loom?" Mr. Goldstein asked glancing over his gold spectacles, the picture of polite professionalism."Yes." Tenchi answered simply. Reaching into his pocket producing an old felt box, worn almost smooth with the passage of time. That had always 'stuck' a cord within Tenchi knowing its contents had only been replaced within at his mother's request upon her deathbed.'For our son.' His father had told him. Being among the last words Achika had spoken.Tenchi felt certain Nobuyuki had carried the small box, until the day he'd placed it within his hand. That alone probably accounted for the worn condition."She wanted you to have it." Was all his father would say at the time.It took an effort, quite unlike any he'd known, placing. The women thought it was a fine idea, and Nell put a record with a hard, driving beat on the stereo. The three men settled back in easy chairs to watch. The game wouldn't take much time. They were all eager to get down to the fucking. It was decided the three women would strip at the same time.The men found something very exciting about the parade of femininity across the generations: daughter, mother, and grandmother. They all looked different, but they all looked enthralling, too. The wonderful freshness of Nell, the voluptuousness of her mother, and the experience and ripeness of her grandmother. Pricks were already hard in the men's pants, and hands were rubbing them.At a signal from Nell, the three women started off. Nell was wearing a tight sweater, and she inched this up bit by bit. It was so tight that as she moved it over her tits, it lifted them up, only to let them flop down again as she finished pulling the garment up over head. She was wearing a bra, as all the women.
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