Monaco Jet Set Chronicles

Val lay naked on top of a quite disarranged Charlotte, hugging and kissing (face only) her; Val’s ass, which Andrea still wanted to finish firkin and which he had planned to offer to Pierre afterwards, was raised up and her legs a bit spread, revealing the cunt where her girl nectars and Pierre's sticky saliva were blending in what would certainly be a delicious paste. God, Andrea thought, it's my entire fault, what am I to do here?

Matters were made worse by Pierre really accepting Andrea's offer of support, the one he'd given him through his look. The young teen approached Andrea, leant on him and put a hand on his brother’s sweaty shoulder, "mais qu'est-ce qui se passé, Andrea?"

"Je sais pas, elles sont comme des folles... Mais quelles folles!" On saying this, Andrea grabbed Pierre's jeans off the top of the bed and handed them to Pierre. “Thanks," Pierre said, irritated by not having been able to react to Charlotte's inconvenient arrival, but grateful to Andrea. He began slipping on his jeans. As soon as Pierre's manly parts were covered, he just took the time to reach quite close to Andrea and whispered in his ear: "BTW thanks big bro. I guess I spoilt a night you’d planned with Val, and now Charlotte spoilt the night you kindly offered me, but c'était magnifique. Love having a brother like ya" "T'a pas de quoi me remercier, Pierrot. Love ya too" said Andrea, who meanwhile couldn’t help gazing at the two girls, half checking their magnificent appearance, half regretting not having gone all the way down Valentine's bottom... woo, was that his sister's hand on the left butt cheek? Christ! He turned back to Pierre and repeated a very Italian gesture he remembered his father doing to himself on "solemn" father-n-son occasions: he kissed the little one on the forehead. Pierre headed for the doors in silence.