“Tommy, thank you again for driving us this morning,” Delilah Davenport spoke up from the back seat. She was dressed for tennis, sporting a ribbed white camisole that was stretched to the limit by her enormous tits and was monogrammed with an overlapping “DD” on the upper left. She also wore a matching short skirt that barely covered her expansive ass, white canvas Keds on her feet, and a white headband holding her black hair out of her pretty face.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Tommy Culligan replied as he eased the Packard Twin Six into the traffic headed north on Broadway. He wore a blue and white striped seersucker suit and a straw boater over his mop of red hair. “If it gives me an excuse to take Daphne for a ride, I’m happy to ferry her parents around.”

In the front passenger seat, Daphne sighed in mock exasperation and rearranged the skirt of her lemon-yellow crepe dress under her rear end. “The things we have to go through to get some privacy,” she sighed, flipping her short black hair and rolling her eyes.

“Look, honey,” Delilah retorted. “I didn’t mean to catch you sucking Tommy’s cock at the St. Patrick’s Day party.”

“Mother—”

“Or his four brothers’ cocks—”

“Ugh, enough Mother; everybody remembers!” Daphne complained with an embarrassed laugh, her cheeks flushed. She turned to face the back seat. “Father, did you know all that?”

Harvey Davenport unbuttoned the jacket of his tan linen suit and leaned forward, stroking his gray beard in thought. “You were obviously covered in multiple men’s cum that night, but no, I didn’t know that particular detail,” he chuckled.

“Well, whichever of them came on your dress, your father drank it later,” Delilah added.

“That’d be the twins, Joey and Jimmy,” Daphne smirked. “They came all over my tits. I drank Denny, Marty, and Tommy’s cum out of a champagne glass.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Delilah smirked back. “That glass already had the trombone player’s cum in it.”

“You used my dirty glass?” Harvey laughed in disbelief. “By golly, what a night.”

“Yes, the night we met,” Daphne said dreamily as she squeezed Tommy’s arm. 

Tommy, unaccustomed to the Davenport family’s frank conversations, was relieved to have an excuse to change the subject. “Mr. and Mrs. Davenport, how did you two first meet, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Oh, I love this story,” Daphne said, her eyes lighting up in anticipation.

“He limped into my father’s shop with a boot heel that needed mending,” Delilah giggled.

“That I did,” Harvey chuckled. “I had finished doing some research at the Ottendorfer library down on Second Avenue. My heel came loose before I’d walked half a block. ‘Now what am I going to do?’ I wondered. Then I looked up and there right in front of me was a cobbler’s shop, Stanich’s Shoe Repair.”

“He was sitting there waiting when I came in to bring my father his lunch,” Delilah continued.

“She breezed in, dropped off his lunch, and gave me a quick glance as she breezed out again,” Harvey went on. “She was the most stunning creature I had ever seen.”

“So then he asked my father, ‘Your wife?’” Delilah laughed, then slipped into her father’s Transylvanian accent. “‘Zat vos my daughter. Not my vife.’”

“And I ran out of the shop—”

“Wearing one shoe—”

“And I chased her down and choked out something like ‘You’re beautiful.’ And she just looked at me. Raised one eyebrow in disbelief. I’d never felt so foolish.”

“Until I burst out laughing and told him he wasn’t so bad-looking himself,” Delilah admitted. “I walked with him back to the shop and told him I would bring an extra lunch the next day.”

“Mmm, those spiced potato hand pies,” Harvey reminisced.

“Yes, plăcintă cu cartofi.”

“Mr. Stanich was surprised to see me again the following day,” Harvey laughed. “I brought him my other pair of shoes that didn’t really have anything wrong with them.”

“He figured out what was happening when I brought him more plăcintă than he could possibly eat alone.”

“He must have already suspected something when I ran out of the shop wearing one shoe,” Harvey pointed out.

“My father always said a man could try to fool you with his words or his clothes, but his shoes would tell you the true story. Whether he was well-heeled or down at the heels. Harvey’s heel fell off, it’s true, but he took care of it right away, and my father never forgot that.”

“That was in 1905,” Harvey went on. “We were married less than a year later, in February…”

“And then this little bundle of joy was born in December,” Delilah concluded, reaching over the seat and pinching Daphne’s cheek.

“That’s a wonderful story,” Tommy declared with a grin. “One you can tell your grandchildren without—”

“Grandchildren?” Daphne spluttered. “Don’t get any big ideas, buster!”

“I didn’t mean—” Tommy fumbled. “I just meant—”

“He just meant he’ll be careful to cum in your mouth and on your tits, honey, not in your pussy,” Delilah laughed and smacked Daphne on the shoulder. “Oh, has Tommy fucked you in the ass yet? Your father and I tried that the night you and Julia had your sleepover, and it was divine.”

“It was so good, I went back for seconds,” Harvey added. “Your mother’s ass is prime cut.”

“Thanks for the info,” Daphne grimaced while rubbing her shoulder. “So tell me, was that before or after you fooled around with Julia?” she added accusingly.

An awkward silence filled the car until Tommy cleared his throat and said playfully “My cousin Julia, hmm? I’d like to hear this story.”

“I— We—” Harvey flailed.

“Come on, Father, spill the beans. I heard you and Mother creeping around after midnight walking past my bedroom, but only one set of footsteps went back to your bedroom. And you and Jules were acting weird at breakfast the next morning, pretending not to notice each other.”

“Your father and Julia shared something special,” Delilah took over. “He helped her out of a sticky situation at my birthday party, and they couldn’t help falling for each other. You have to admit, they’re both great people, non?”

“Mais oui,” Daphne laughed. “They’re two of my favorites. So, Father… you and Jules?”

“We ended it that night,” Harvey clarified. “It was a flame that burned brightly and briefly.”

“A flash in the pan, you might say,” Delilah smiled.

“A flash in the parlor, more likely,” Daphne snickered.

“Tommy,” Harvey said quietly. “I would appreciate it if you could keep quiet about this. Your uncles might not be so understanding of the situation…”

“No problem, Mr. Davenport. I’ll keep it under my hat,” Tommy replied, tipping his hat for emphasis. It’s always wise to stay on a man’s good side when the possibility of fucking his daughter up the ass is in play.

“Oh, here we are!” Delilah trilled as Tommy pulled up in front of her tennis club. “We’ll have to continue this conversation later,” she added with a twinkle in her eye.

“God, I hope not,” Daphne muttered, then her jaw dropped when she saw an athletic young man with dark features wearing tennis whites exiting the main door. “Boy, get a load of the sheik! Wait, is that your instructor?” she demanded.

“I believe so,” Delilah tittered. “I have a new instructor named Raoul, and he arranged to work with me one-on-one before the club opens for the day.”

Daphne snorted. “I’m sure he’ll be able to help you with your stroke.”

“Oh, piffle,” Delilah said dismissively. “We’re going to work on my service today.”

“Why bother?” Daphne hooted. “Your service is already top-notch, Mother. The score will be forty-love before you know it.”

Harvey had hopped out and walked around to the curb to open Delilah’s door for her. She kissed him on the cheek and whispered “I’ll see you at home later” in his ear. He slid into the back seat again and joked “On to Columbia, Jeeves,” as Tommy put the car into gear and the Packard pulled away from the curb. Delilah turned and approached the entrance to the club.

“Raoul?” she inquired of the handsome young man.

“Yes, Mrs. Davenport is it? You’re right on time.” Raoul held the door open and followed her inside. They passed through the lobby and out to the courts beyond. Delilah opened her duffel bag and slid two knit cotton sleeves onto her arms, then picked up her racket.

“What are you wearing on your arms?” Raoul asked incredulously.

Delilah struck a pose leaning on her tennis racket, then laughed. “I don’t know; the shop girl at Spalding Brothers said they were all the rage. They’re supposed to keep my arm muscles warm while we play.”

“Well, as long as they don’t slow you down, I suppose they can’t do any harm,” Raoul conceded, rubbing his close-cropped facial hair. “Now let’s practice your serve, Mrs. Davenport.”

Delilah nodded and turned around to pick up a ball. Her short skirt crept up to reveal the back of her thighs, with Raoul’s eyes following its progress every inch of the way and his cock twitching appreciatively in his white pants. She straightened, turned to face him, and held the ball in front of her. Raoul bent his knees slightly, assuming a crouched stance, and nodded. Delilah tossed the ball aloft and swung her racket in a sweeping arc, smashing the ball directly into the net.

“Ugh, fault,” Delilah groused as she hustled towards the net to retrieve the ball.

“But your form was excellent, Mrs. Davenport,” Raoul consoled her. “Just a few inches higher and that would have been an ace.”

“Oh, so you think I have an ace up my sleeve?” Delilah giggled as she bent forward to pick up the ball. Her full, pendulous breasts hung down, barely restrained by the thin fabric of the camisole, and Raoul’s cock sprang to attention as he ogled the deep crevasse between them.

Raoul crouched in his stance to return service but also to hide his bulging erection. Delilah returned to her service line and exhaled to calm her nerves. Once more, she tossed the ball aloft and swung her racket in a sweeping arc, smashing the ball directly into the net.

Or so Raoul thought, and he relaxed momentarily. However, the ball merely skipped off the top of the net and continued screaming through the air at sixty miles per hour, striking him squarely in the family jewels.

“Let!” Delilah called out, oblivious to Raoul’s distress until he groaned and slowly crumpled to the ground. “My goodness, Raoul! Are you hurt?” Delilah scampered around the net and knelt at his side as he clutched his stomach and rolled around on the court. “Did I hit you in the stomach?”

“N-No,” Raoul answered through gritted teeth. “It’s nothing.”

“Nonsense, let me help you!” Delilah scolded him. “Roll over and let me take a look.”

Raoul, without the strength to argue, rolled onto his back. Delilah’s eyes widened as she saw the enormous bulge in the front of his trousers.

“Mercy me, Raoul! Did I do that to you?” She placed her right hand under his shoulder and gently rubbed his swollen groin with her left hand. Looking around, she observed, “There’s no ice or anything we can use to reduce the swelling, and there’s no one else here who can help.”

Raoul wasn’t sure whether the ache in his loins was from being struck with the ball or because his own balls were about to burst under the sweet caress of Delilah’s supple fingers. He gave a strangled groan as she continued coddling his crotch.

“Is this helping?” Delilah inquired innocently, and Raoul nodded feebly. “Well then, let’s take a look at the damage,” she declared with an impish smile and proceeded to unbutton his trousers and pull them down to expose his tented underdrawers. She gently worked his drawers over his raging rod and swollen balls, sliding them down his legs as well.

Taking his hard-on in her hand, she slowly began sliding her hand up and down, masturbating him masterfully. Raoul groaned again.

“Oh, Mrs. Davenport—”

“Ssh, ssh, call me by my first name, Delilah. That’s why there’s a double D embroidered on my chest here,” indicating her monogram.

“Delilah—”

“Yes, Raoul?”

“That was quite a serve. You cracked me right in the nuts,” he laughed weakly. 

“Oh, Raoul!” Delilah laughed and flashed a glittering smile. “Do you need me to kiss them and make them feel better?” Not waiting for an answer, she lowered her head between his legs and lightly kissed his balls as she continued gently pumping his stiff dick with her hand. After a few light kisses, she extended her tongue and began licking his balls all over.

“Delilah?”

“Yes?” Lick, lick.

“You’re delightful.”

“Why, thank you Raoul, you’re very kind!” Lick, lick.

“I have to admit that I was looking at your big tits when you bent over after your first serve.”

"Well, really, how could you resist?” Lick, lick.

“And I think I almost saw your ass when you first picked up the ball.”

“Oh, I think you would have known.” Lick, lick.

“How so?”

“I’m not wearing any bloomers under this skirt.” Lick, lick. “You would have seen my pussy, too.”

At this, Raoul’s dick pulsed and a small amount of white goo leaked out of the slit.

“Mercy me, someone’s feeling better!” Delilah laughed, then flicked her tongue against Raoul’s dickhead to taste his dribble of cum. “Mmm, Cock-a-Cola, the taste that refreshes!” putting her own twist on a recently introduced advertising slogan. Hiking up her skirt, she revealed her bare white ass, dewy pink pussy, and triangular black muff. “Now I’m going to lick your dick while you lash my gash.”

She swung her rear end around and knelt over Raoul’s head, then lowered herself so he could reach her sizzling snatch with his tongue. She bent and engulfed his cock in her warm, wet mouth, sliding her luscious lips up and down his shaft. Raoul licked and sucked at her labia, then ran his tongue along her slippery slit from back to front.

“Oh, yes, right there!” she cooed, pulling her mouth off his stiff dick and slowly jacking it with her hand as she buried her face in his crotch and inhaled the scent of his sweaty balls. “Uuh huuh huuuh…”

Raoul licked Delilah’s clit fiercely while she wiggled and squirmed above him. He soon was rewarded with a wave of nectar gushing out of Delilah’s hot twat as she wailed and keened, mashing her face into his crotch.

After a moment’s rest, Delilah scooted forward and slid his dick inside her camisole between her tits, then resumed tonguing his balls while jiggling her juicy jugs against his hard cock. Feeling something warm between her tits, she looked down and saw that Raoul had dribbled some more cum onto her.

“You’re just a Leaky Louie, aren’t you?” Delilah giggled as she climbed off him. Making sure that he was watching, she swept a finger between her mammoth tits, licked it clean, then booped him on the nose. “Now, if looking at my ass started all this, I think it only makes sense for you to be looking at my ass while you fuck me from behind. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“It’s your lesson, Mrs.— Delilah. You call the shots,” Raoul grinned as he got to his feet.

Delilah stood up and removed her skirt, then faced the net and grabbed onto it with both hands. Looking over her shoulder, she winked and shook her ass. Raoul stepped up behind her and sank his cock into her quivering quim.

“Fuck me!” Delilah growled as he slammed his cock in and out of her, spanking her wobbly ass with his hips. Raoul spread her cheeks with his strong hands so he could see her winking asshole as he bludgeoned her dripping pussy with his thick dick. After a few minutes, his thrusts became irregular and jerky.

Delilah looked over her shoulder and saw that Raoul was shaking and sweating, clearly about to lose control. “Are you going to cum? Shoot your cum in my hot fucking pussy!” she snarled.

“I’m going to shoot my cum all over your huge fucking ass!” Raoul bellowed as the sweat flecked off his face and splashed onto her back. A moment later, he fired one spurt of semen into Delilah's pussy, then pulled his cock out and aimed it at her broad backside, blasting her crack with a bucketload of cum.

“You naughty little boy!” Delilah hissed. “First you cum between my huge fucking tits, then on my huge fucking ass? What do you think I am, your personal spunk sponge?”

“N-No?” Raoul offered, unsure how to respond. His cock was still hard, and he stroked it slowly.

Delilah arched her eyebrow and shook her head slightly, waiting for him to catch on.

“Y-Yes?” Raoul said tentatively.

“You’re damned right I’m your spunk sponge!” Delilah roared. “ I’m your hot fucking whore! I’m here to soak up your sperm!”

Raoul took his cue. “I’ll cover you in cum!” he shouted, frenetically beating his dick.

“Yes!” Delilah swooned as she hungrily eyed his heaving hard-on. “I’m a cum crazy cocksucking cunt! I need more, now!”

“Well then shut the fuck up and suck it!” Raoul barked.

With a curl at the corner of her lip, Delilah turned and fell to her knees, cum leaking down her ass crack and out of her pussy onto the court surface. She pulled the neckline of her camisole down to expose her gigantic tits, then began sucking his glistening prick. Raoul fucked her beautiful face while she gently cupped his balls, then a minute later he arched his back and shot a blast of hot, sweet jizz into her mouth, then pulled out and aimed his cock at her massive tits, plastering them with his final load of thick, slick sperm.

Raoul leaned back against the net and tried to catch his breath as his dick drooped down against his leg. Delilah plopped onto the ground and sat for a moment, licking her lips and rubbing his slippery cum into her tits.

Picking up her discarded skirt, Delilah stood up. “Oops, I just left a Rorschach inkblot on the tennis court,” she laughed, looking at the gooey ass print she had made. “What do you think people will see in it?”

“I see a huge…”

“Yes?”

“...hot…”

“Yes?”

“...fucking ass,” Raoul concluded, pulling Delilah to him and kissing her.

“Hmm,” Delilah mused. “If I bring some oil to my next lesson, maybe you can…” Kiss.

“..fuck my…” Kiss.

“..huge…” Kiss.

“...fucking…” Kiss.

“...ass.” Kiss.

“Sure, doll,” Raoul agreed as he slapped her sticky ass. “I’ll bet you have one hell of a backhand.”