Three days later, I was having tea at my mother's club whilethe other members couldn't agree which one of us was more embarrassed -my father, who for the first time in years had to wear a dress he'd wornbefore, or me, wearing my mother's on-screen outfit that should berightfully belong to my father.It is during the first commercial break that we allow ourselves to takeour eyes away from the screen. My father gets up and paces nervouslyaround the living room. He is wearing the dress my mother wore lastweek, a knee length, straight skirted creation made of mocha-coloredsating, with a black lace overlay that just about covers his breasts,and leaves the dress above them bare. He has pulled his hair in a tightbun at the back of his head, just like my mother wore last week. Hisbreasts, which I can't help but to admire how they push forward thebodice of his dress, are part hormones, part implants. Mine are siliconebreast forms that feel both alien and disturbingly natural bouncingaround in. I backed up my dick a little bit and gave another thrust with enormous force that my huge shaft was all inside Anju’s asshole. It was dry like hell and was burning along the shaft but, I didn’t care. I started to pump her hard. Anju was crying and shaking like an injured animal. She was whirling and groaning with pain.She was semi-conscious. Even though Abu was silent but, I could feel his dick in her pussy on the other side of her colon. Only a thin wall between them. What a great feeling. One dick in the pussy and one in the ass at the same time. I was feeling Abu’s dick in my every stroke. Abu was very scared. He eventually got limp and my hard thrust made him withdraw automatically from her pussy. Poor Abu was taking Anju’s whole weight and half of mine. In few minutes her ass got much easier to me. She stopped groaning and crying.In another five minutes Anju was unbelievably started to moan. I checked her pussy, it was wet. I could not believe myself! I was brutally rapping her.
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