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Greta rebels against dominating mother-in-law.

I cup and squeeze a breast as I nibble on her other nipple. I just can't help myself.

Tara struggles with the snug skirt and finally lets it drop. Despite her exposed, shapely tits, Renae looks so innocent in her juvenile white cotton panties with sky-blue spots. The obvious camel toe and growing wet spot betray her protestations. I cup her mons and the wet spot triples in size as I trace her labia. She sighs; I sigh then pull her panties off. Mmm, beautiful! Scott slides her top past her hands and I toss him her panties. As her hunky husband watches, Scott sniffs then licks her gusset and sighs at the divine scent and taste.

Roger is all smiles and says something about being birds of a feather. Carl chimes in; another hour has passed. Renae points at the men and insists they strip too - for cooling reasons. They all quickly strip to their under clothes. Tom is in tight briefs that strain to contain his sizeable, swollen manhood. The others port tented boxers. Roger shifts and his impressive, uncut member charges out of the slot in the boxers. We all stare as its hood vanishes, hands free. He thrusts his hips to further expose his nearly foot-long weiner and it curves slightly up and pulses.

Tom is impressed and intimidated so he removes his boxers and pulls up his sac to emphasize his stiff eight inches. He looks good and I recall he tastes good too. Before Scott can react, Renae leaps at him, pulls his dick over his briefs and wrestles his undies off. I guess she's entitled to handle my man since we both handled her. Now come here, sweetie, and handle me too. I bump against her bare ass to entice her and she takes the bait. First fiercely cupping and fingering my wet hole, then tenderly finger banging me as she jerks my husband. We each pinch a nipple and make her moan loudly. As Scott starts to shake, she takes him deeply into her mouth and ingests all his cum.

Meanwhile, Tara is stroking Tom as she pulls Roger's boxers off. She pulls his balls free and stokes him too. As her breathing gets faster, she swallows Tom then licks and sucks Roger's bishop. Tom cums quickly and she swallows every drop. We all watch as she tries to swallow Roger's hefty meat. She's stroking him with both hands and licking his sweet pre-cum.

Renae gets under her and eats her soaked pussy and sucks her rigid clit. Her wide-open legs and pussy arouse Tom so he kneels and fills her wet hole. I move behind Roger and lick his balls then rim his ass. As he gets more aroused, I push a finger into his ass and twist it until I hit and milk his prostate. Though I love being on the other end of that, I now allow him to feed Tara. I know I can have him anytime now. He fills her mouth; she squirts slightly into Renae's mouth; her spasms get Tom to fill her pussy and they all collapse. Carl chimes another hour has passed.

After several minutes rest, Roger gasps that wasn't a wise use of our air. The co2 levels may now kill us all in less than twenty-four hours and there is little margin for survival even if someone dies immediately. We agree there are two urgent questions . . . Who dies? And how?

Roger says he has military training and can kill someone with just a thumb, in several ways - all of them quick, quiet and painless. So he thinks he's the executioner and safe from death? Tom reminds us that he had the same training. So who is to die?

Renae suggests we choose by chance. Maybe she can write a number on her palm - between one and a hundred. We all write a number in that range on our palms and the closest to her number is the executioner, the furthest is the lamb. Tom screamed out 'Why you?' They bickered about the rules and kept burning our air. Minutes pass.




They argue, scream, use more oxygen and produce more co2.

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