Wicksteed Happy Christmas

"Mrs Wick ...Moira..." he gasped, his bottom lip hanging like a dropped, pink, wet pillow. "Oh my, oh my, this is not right...bbbbbuuutt...oh my yeseees.." he blurted.

"Our Kel's got some stuff..." she winked knowingly and glanced at her daughter's bag. "This make it OK?"

Up came her brassiere, in one fluent move, dragging her breasts grotesquely upwards until they plopped down with a gently slap. Moira peered at the flabbergasted cleric over her hoisted clothing and took a step forward. Dwight remained rooted, his mouth dribbling, his brain whirring, his ears alert and his hands cupped downwards as if stroking the first bare mammaries he had clapped eyes on since darling Martha, his Welsh wife passed away.

"Mum, lets go..." called Kelly, opening the cupboard door. She could see her mother's part bare back, strangely out of place bra strap and outstretched elbows and the Vicar's stunned face. There was a flurry of activity, the black priest disappeared, Moira contorted into some semblance of proper dress as Leroy pushed past Kelly, shoving her thong into his pocket, after he had shoved the gusset up her snatch, during the grope, then dragging it off.

"C'mon let's fuck off," said Moira. "We've got what we wanted." she snickered, smoothing her clothes while Kelly checked her mini skirt, thinking her mum didn't often swear.

Simon had arrived at the Wicksteed residence, for the first and only time if he could work it, trying to disregard the filth, old skanky mattresses hung over front fences, if the fences were still erect, litter strewn footpaths, dog shit and unkempt appearance of the twelve houses in the cul-de-sac. The well off, twenty year old, while parking his Ford Focus and hoping the wheels would remain on the vehicle during his stay, initially thought this was a good idea when Wayne had intimated there would be some choice underwear to sniff and lick, as well as sexy videos.

He soon left, in a very bad mood, complete with the digi cam-corder and a decision never to listen to Wayne, the part-time warehouse operator at his dad's business again ,when promised with Simon's prime fetish of smelling knickers. The fact that Wayne could only offer a mangy, large, old pair of baggy pink knickers that belonged to his grandma, two plain white pairs of his mother's big panties and none of Kelly's briefs, which had surprised Wayne, really pissed him off. At home he had unlimited female underwear to examine, sniff, lick and photograph for a website/blog he had developed. His glamorous, cougar type, bleached blonde mother, two sisters in their early teens and a live-in, mature, Korean housemaid provided much pleasure and he had many superior videos of them all in every intimate situation. All Wayne could offer was a good quality, thanks to the Panasonic camera, video of his dad shagging his seventy-one year old granny. Fuck that for a deal and he could get a wank in other places.

Christmas night passed with them all slumped in front of the telly.

Moira, smashed on cheap brandy and port, past caring. had given up reminding and fiddling with her mother's clothing, knowing that both Stan and Wayne could feast their eyes on the old woman's indiscretion.

She did like Dwight a lot.

Enid smashed on cheap brandy and port, snoozed and dreamt of Stan's thick cock.

Dwight wanked to videos of beach voyeurs on the internet, reminding him of his Caribbean youth and thinking of Moira's nips.

Kelly, smashed on cheap brandy and port, was locked into her device, giving her Dad a good view up her mini skirt who fucking cares?

Stan had young and old to feast on, and his Christmas day would be complete if he could shag Moira tonight, get her daft with booze and she might not know, but he had a reliable fall back organised...and might not have to wait till the old gal got back to the home, she was staying for a couple more days...

...and look at that bunch of cunt hair escaping from Kel's thong..

Wayne was plotting how he could get hold of a superior digi camera that flash cunt Simon had loaned him, aiming to explore other sneaky avenues for detailed voyeurism one day.

Happy Christmas Wicksteed's