Cassandra Dee

“A lot of women like that we look alike.”

It’s true. They got hot and needy, anticipating a couple Morgan boys in the sack at once.

The brunette flushes then.

“Overwhelming, but good.”

He’s come into the kitchen too, and a big hand snakes to her bare ass, squeezing that delectable rump.

But does the little girl back away?

Oh no.

She likes it.

Instead, the brunette closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, holding still so that Matt can massage her sweet butt.

Aw shit, she is perfect. And at this moment, watching her quiver, I want nothing more than to dip two fingers into what I suspect is a highly responsive and equally wet pussy. I’d give anything for it right now, after the crap day I’ve had.

But the time’s not right. We said if we did it, we’d do it together. So I shoot Matt a warning look, telling him to back down.

And with a disappointed grunt, he does. That big hand drops away, leaving her wide, white expanse bare, the t-shirt pulled up.

Hot damn, it’s so perfect. But still, introductions need to be made.

“So you said your name is Macy?”

And my worst fears are confirmed. Because she is that baby, the one whom I don’t remember. Which means this kid is probably barely out of high school. She’s less than half my age but, fuck, did the little filly grow up. Insanely ripe in all the right places. Nothing childlike about her now.

Time for a proper interview then. I’ll bet these five jackasses haven’t said more than seven words to her, so caught up in the sweet, magical goodness.

Grabbing my suit jacket, I wrap it around her shoulders, guiding the female to the couch, where she sits, trying in vain to keep her swollen, bare puss covered with the little bit of t-shirt fabric. No worries honey. We’ll see it all soon enough.

But modesty prevails. Macy tries adjusting the coat but it doesn’t help much. She’s got six pairs of blue eyes trained right on that darkened vee, and the fabric just won’t cooperate. Thank god for small blessings.

But it’s not just about her pulsing wet channel though. No, it’s also about the curly hair, those big, brown eyes, and that full mouth. We love her innocence and her shyness. She’s a perfect package, pronouncing “Ripe! Fertile! Young!” with every sway of her hips.

The interview starts then.

My brothers have followed us into the living room as well, taking strategic spots around the girl. It should be scary, all these huge, intimidating men, but the brunette doesn’t look frightened. Instead, she just looks rosy and flushed, still shy but loving the attention too.