It started completely by accident.
I was walking from the garage through the kitchen and on my way to the bathroom and as I passed by my older sister Micah who happened to be bent over moving her clothes from the washer and into the dryer, for no reason at all and with no premeditation, I smacked her big ass. However, my hand didn’t land on either cheek; it landed almost perfectly in the middle.
Micah emitted an ‘Ooof’ and as she was straightening up quickly, she bumped the back of her head on the upper rim of the dryer’s door. She yelped with pain and it seemed to have stopped her from chasing after me.
I was cautious coming back from the bathroom to resume working on my bike in the garage. But, when I passed her again, she turned around quickly but didn’t say anything. She only gave me a hurt look. I didn’t give it much thought at the time and chalked my luck to the pain in her head which stopped her from retaliating.
I’ve always enjoyed family reunions, specifically when my older sister Jenny attended. See, we’ve been shameless lovers since she turned seventeen and I fifteen and lived in the same house. A couple of years later, she went to college and two years after that it was my turn to leave the nest. But we always ‘got together’ whenever we could, and the most time we got were during these frequent (thank god) family reunions.
The last time we were together, she surprised me by asking if I’d ever thought about mom in an unmotherly way.
Up until her question, I hadn’t thought about it, but as soon as Jenny put that nasty thought in my mind, I started looking at mom in an entirely different manner. The next morning when our family gathered for breakfast, I couldn’t help ogling mom.
What made things worse that morning was the fact that mom wore a robe that revealed more than enough of her abundant cleavage to give me a raging hard-on. During breakfest, she often caught me staring in her direction, and her look back seemed to say, ‘I know what you want, are you crazy enough to do something about it?’
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It was already late afternoon, and Beth Anderson knew she was going to be late for her appointment. She had totally miscalculated how far the Thompson residence was from the city, and now, as she drove along the rural, two-lane highway, she wondered if she would have to stop at a motel for the night on the way back.
Beth had worked for the social services agency for six months and had handled a variety of cases but never a sexual abuse incident. The person who normally took care of such cases was on vacation, and Beth had agreed to take it. Now, she wondered if it was such a good idea.
When she first read the case report the previous day, she actually found herself becoming aroused and had to make a deliberate effort to bring herself back to the reality of what she was supposed to be doing. The girl, Diane Thompson, had apparently told someone that she and her stepfather had been having sexual intercourse for the past four years — ever since she was 12. The story quickly was reported to the authorities. It wasn’t so much the fact that the pair had been having sex that turned Beth on so, as it was the graphic descriptions the girl provided. And it wasn’t just vaginal intercourse, either.
As she maneuvered the state car along the curvy road, Beth replayed in her mind the contents of the report lying beside her on the seat. Diane had told how her stepfather first made her suck his cock and swallow his semen. She described vividly the slightly off-white color of his juice, its heat, richness and thick odor, and the enormous quantity he produced each time he ejaculated.
Jenny Marie Jenkins felt that her life was finally starting to look up. Her husband had finally opened his own architectural business and was on the edge of taking off. She had worked so many long hours grading papers, making out lesson plans and paying for class supplies the school didn’t have money for, that she was really getting sick of teaching her high school classes. She had spent her summers working on her master’s just to be able to keep her teaching certificate.
All this time, her husband had been working for one of the best firms in New York for almost no credit. He had constantly designed award winning designs that his boss had won numerous prizes for. Finally, in a fit of anger and frustration, he had quit in order to open his own office.
Office space in New York was draining Jenny’s account. If not for her modest inheritance from her parents, it would have been impossible; but she believed in her husband and had gone all out to help. Joe had done a number of very small commissions that barely broke even when they were done. Never-the-less, he had won some recognition for the design of several small homes. He just never got the big enough break that would set them on easy street.
Jenny’s inheritance was just about gone. The bills for engineering on the last project were coming due. The landlord was giving Joe several letters that their rent was way past due.
Joe had called her to say that he was meeting a client for dinner and he was hoping that she could join them. The news was not new. He had brought the subject up a number of times. Jenny was willing to do whatever it would take for Joe’s success, but did not know enough about architecture to be of much help.
We reluctantly waded to the shore and retrieved our clothes, but we didn’t put them on. We walked hand in hand nude, through the trees and back to the cabin. Our bodies still tingled from a combination of the act of love just completed and the cool night air.
Upon arriving at the cabin, we tossed our clothes onto a chair near the fireplace. Our bodies were still damp; Caroline was shivering slightly. She decided to take a shower and headed for the bathroom.
“How about a drink to help warm you up?” I asked, heading for the kitchen.
“Sounds good,” Caroline replied, closing the door to the bathroom. I heard the water running as I made us each a whiskey sour. The clock on the wall began to chime. Glancing up I noticed the time – ten o’clock. We’d been here only two hours and already had begun acting like wild animals in heat. It felt good.
When I got home late saturday night, Mom was sitting at the kitchen table.
“Geez, Mom I’m 22 years old now, you know you don’t have to wait up for me.”
“I know,” she said. “I went to bed, but I had trouble sleeping. I couldn’t relax for some reason.”
Judging from the half empty bottle of scotch in front of her, she was probably good and relaxed now. Mom was 41 years old but still quite attractive. She had put on a few pounds but not much. Her ass was a little bit bigger than it used to be, but then again so were her tits. I would often catch my friends checking her out when they thought I wasn’t looking.
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With a loud sigh, the slender, tall handsome man lifted himself up on his hands and knees; his back bowed slightly as he looked down beneath him. There below his hard, flat stomach he could see the thick furry shaft of his huge cock just before it disappeared into the loveliest woman he had ever seen. As he slowly, but firmly thrust his hips upward, causing that fat shaft to sink into the dainty little body, he felt the woman lift her body up off the bed in an effort to receive as much of his cock as she possibly could.
The two lovers were together again. Both were married to other people but they still made time for each other. After almost 30 years of surreptitious meetings their loving was just as good as the first time. There was a special bond between them that would never break.
Rich couldn’t help but remember so many years ago, when he first met Janine. The daughter of his favorite aunt and uncle, they were hardly 6 years old then, and in less than a year had entered into a most unique relationship. Even before they reached their teen years, while in the house playing “doctor” they would often undress and while sitting on the edge of Rick’s bed, they would closely examine each other’s body.
Being just short of sixteen, born out of wedlock, male and a randy sod was nothing unusual, fancying everything of the opposite sex was supposedly normal, what wasn’t so normal was the lust I had for my mother and my aunt. For the past year I’d been having wet dreams about my mother or my aunt, not that they weren’t something to have wet dreams about, but it was not the sort of thing a boy was supposed to do.
What made matters even worse was the fact that my mother and her sister were identical twins, even people that had known them for years sometimes had trouble telling them apart so at times I wasn’t sure whether it was my mother or my aunt that I was doing such lovely things to in my dreams. Not that I really cared that much, they were both gorgeous women. Not only gorgeous but ‘sparky’ with it, they both had the same sense of humour that went exceedingly well with their dirty minds and when the pair of them were together they could have made a blue comedian blush.
It was a month before my sixteenth when fate conspired to turn my dreams into reality, my mother had gone to London with her work and she had asked her sister, my aunt Eleanor, to look after me for the few days that she would be away. Sad though I was to be parted from my mother having some-one who looked exactly like her around took the sting away. The start of the first day, a Friday, was nothing out of the ordinary, my mother left while I was at school and my aunt arrived just as I got home, in fact at first I didn’t realise it was my aunt and not my mother, but eventually we got that sorted out. Just like any normal Friday we went shopping, well my aunt and I did, usually it was my mother and I, anyway after shopping we had dinner and then spent the rest of the evening chatting and watching TV.
It was almost nine and we’d been sitting watching some rubbishy film for the past ten minutes when Aunt Eleanor muttered something and leant forward to grab the TV and Satellite guide.
“How bloody boring,” she said softly “surely there’s something better on.”
There were eight of us in my family, mum and dad, myself as the oldest child and, incidentally the only girl, one set of triplets and one set of twins, thankfully neither set of which was identical, I was seventeen, my brothers were fifteen and fourteen when our parents decided that we kids were old enough to look after ourselves while they had a second honeymoon. So off they went for two weeks of fun in the sun leaving me, as the eldest, supposedly in charge. My brothers had other ideas, however, and I was seriously outnumbered, after the first day I just gave up trying to keep them under control and concentrated on keeping the house tidy. That in itself was a full time job, five boys equates to a ton and a half of mess, I liked my brothers, but they were a lazy bunch of sods who couldn’t seem to do anything without making a mess of some sort and I was getting fed up with running around after them by the fifth day.
“Listen here you mob,” I said firmly as I stood in the living room looking at my five brothers lounging around, “I’m fed up clearing up after you, you don’t make this much mess when mum and dad are around and I don’t see why you should do it now, I’m not your slave you know.”
It was only as I finished speaking that I noticed that the boys were passing around a scotch bottle, it was nearly empty yet I was sure it had been full that morning. They were also whispering together which was always a bad sign as it meant they were up to some mischief or other. Gary, Mike, Frank, John and Len all looked up at me with silly grins on their faces and I knew that they were drunk, I snorted in disgust and was about to turn away from them when Mike spoke.
“That’s not a bad idea you know Rita,” he said, his words slurring a little, “just what we boys need.”
“What is?” I asked in total puzzlement.
The year was 1974 and as was her family’s tradition, they all packed up each summer and spent the entire vacation on Cape Cod. As her father had a successful law practice he needed to attend to, she was usually alone during the week with her sister and mother, until Friday nights when her father would join them for the weekend. Josey was almost 16 that summer; her sister was 21 and her mother a very young, and lovely, 39 years old. Each of the females in the house was gorgeous in their own way, and as I found out as I heard more of Josey’s stories, each was highly sexual and seductive toward any man that crossed their paths.
However, Josey at that time was just coming into full bloom, and beginning to grasp the degree to which sex would come to rule her life. She never got much beyond five feet tall, but she had a full, soft ass, delicate sexy legs, and a firm muscular body as a result of her tomboy up bringing. That summer her long brown hair was to her waist, and her breast had swelled to match in proportion, if not in actual size those of her busty sister and mother. I saw a few pictures of her and she was an incredibly sexy package.
Josey’s mother and sister had friends and activities that rarely included her, so she was always bored. Beyond going to the beach and reading there was little for her to do. She would often lie up in her bed room over looking the beach and masturbate as she watched the various men walk past her house on the way to the water. She remembers she was constantly horny that summer, and these sessions would take the edge of for a short while, but ultimately only serve to make her more frustrated.