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Close Knit

By: Jett_Black



"Oh God, he is so funny!"

I watched my mother sit primly—a thick, creamy thigh crossed over the other—in a huge leather recliner that my pop had left behind. She was watching her favorite television show, some corny sitcom on the Lifetime channel, giggling her little heart out at the effeminate male character on the plasma screen. When she laughed, her large, natural breasts jounced slightly behind her blue tank top, her cleavage ample and . . . inviting.

I sucked in a muted breath, my already stiff cock twitching eagerly behind my jeans. Thankfully, the way I seated myself on the sofa—cross-legged, sofa pillow over my lap—hid my arousal. Between my mother's skirt hiked-up around her upper thighs, and fairly revealing top, the view was wonderful, breathtaking even. And it made sitting in the same room with a television settled on the Lifetime channel all the more tolerable.

Hell, it was the only reason I was in the living room in the first place.

Most guys my age would think me sick for watching my mother the way I did, but I had an excuse. My mother is drop-dead gorgeous. Fiery hair, full natural breasts, plump ass, and an angelic face that would make the most chastest of men run to the bathroom and rub out a good one. Sure, she'd gained some weight over the years, but she'd filled out terrifically. A MILF goddess, thirty-nine and dangerous.

Add that to the fact that she is a retired adult film actress, who has more than five hundred movies under her belt, two hundred in which she starred in. She wasn't exactly popular, but she had done enough films to get her noticed by practically anyone with a computer and an healthy interest in pornography. Which is probably why she'd told me about her former career when I was fourteen, thinking it best to get the truth out before one of my hornball friends laid it on me. She had apologized for her career choice, and even seemed disgusted with herself—for my sake, perhaps.

But she'd made me more interested than repulsed. And so I had scoured the net for her movies, and eventually found a good scene of her getting drilled by a huge, black cock, her lungs screaming her pleasure, and then getting her face covered in his jizz.

I've been anxious to fuck her ever since.

Someone had told me once that my hormones would calm down when I turned eighteen . . . I think they lied to me.

I couldn't wait any longer. I darted from the living room, making up something regarding forgotten homework when my mother inquired about my sudden haste. I closed my bedroom door—a secure snick satisfying my ears—behind me, my cock throbbing achingly behind my jeans, and made for my computer desk, sliding into my desk chair. My jeans and boxers were removed, sitting in a messy pile on the floor beside me. I loaded up my web browser.

I searched Mom's on-screen name—Rocksee Dynamite—and clicked on a clip of one of my favorite scenes of her. My mouth welled with anticipation, the engorged head of my cock looking up at me, twitching—anxious. It ached to slip inside of . . . something. Anything. Preferrably the red head appearing on my screen, my own mother. I pulled on a pair of headphones, and turned the volume full blast, wanting to experience every sound with clarity.

The clip went straight into the action. The camera was angled behind Mom, whom was bent over with her face pressed against the carpet. It gave a good view of her bare cunt getting reamed by some guy who mounted her like a dog in heat, sliding his lengthsome cock in her sopping hole.

My hand was already on my own cock, wrapped around its base. I spat, slicking my shaft warm saliva, stroking my palm along my length. My other hand played with my balls, tugging and squeezing, wishing it was Mom's hot mouth wrapped around them. I let out a slow breath, pleasure fluttering pleasantly in my gut.

"Oooh, fuck me!" Mom said to her on-screen lover, looking up to him. Her long fiery hair was wild, rebellious strands falling over her gorgeous, flushed face.

"Damn . . . mom," I whispered, my hand pumping faster, my grip growing more firm. I imagined myself in her lover's place, imagined the feel of her warmth, tight and wet around my cock, imagined my gulping needy breaths, her pale asscheeks a bright red from my constant spanking.

I almost didn't feel my hips bucking slightly against my hand as I stroked, faster. I spat again, mixing saliva and precum. Mom's moans grew louder, she seemed to be nearing an orgasm.

"Shit!" I hissed, becoming more excited with each moan, each scream, each filthy little word she growled through clinched teeth. And before I knew it, I came.

Cum spurted upward, splashing against my chest and belly and fingers, the jism warm against my skin. My body moved in spastic motions, my eyes rolled to the back of my skull, staring into darkness. On screen, my mother came as well, squirting all over her lover's cock. Jealousy twisted in my chest, wishing I could be there to feel her juices splash against my face, into my mouth.

I eventually calmed down, my orgasmic high subsiding. Awareness flooded me, and I shot a look over my shoulder, and my eyes widened with fear.

My door was cracked open.

"Fuck!" I said quietly, jumping up from my chair and searching for a towel. "The hell, I thought I closed the door. I know I did . . ." I glanced at the door a second time. My mother had caught me beating off. I know she did, how else could my door have opened? Finding a towel, I cleaned myself up, and closed my door, again. I knew I should have kept my headphone volume on low, at least low enough to hear someone turning my door knob.

I should have been mortified, but . . . I was excited, instead. Did she run away, embarrassed by what she saw? I thought as I pulled back on my jeans, leaving my boxers on the floor. Or did she stay until I came all over my self?

The latter got my cock good and stiff all over again, and I was ready to go a second round . . . but I did have work to do, though. The college applications weren't going to apply themselves.

Grinning, I shut down my computer, and went to work on the stack of applications beside my printer. Maybe, just maybe, I could make the most of this awkward, but exciting situation.

"Goodness, Rox, he was just masturbating," Arianna told me quietly, licking her ice cream cone in a delightfully inappropriate way, getting our table all kinds of looks. Old habits die hard.

"Yeah, to my movie, Ari," I pointed out, breaking off pieces of my empty waffle cup, dark and flimsy with melted ice cream. I munched on a few pieces, swallowing hard. Shame and guilt teamed up on my stomach, the ice cream in my belly stirring uneasily. "I shouldn't have told him about my career, even if I am retired now."

I had peeked into his room three days ago to see if there was anything wrong, as he'd dashed out of the living room in such a hurry after sitting silent throughout the entire evening. He hadn't heard me open the door, his headphones over his ears. And I'd caught him, stroking himself, with a video of me getting doggyfucked on his computer screen! My maternal instincts screamed for me to storm in, unplug his computer, and toss it out in the street. But I didn't—couldn't, frozen by shock and disgrace and intr—

"You know he was going to find out eventually," Arianna said, thankfully, interrupting my thoughts. I wasn't too sure if I wanted to finish it. Her platinum blond hair fell in her heart-shaped face. Forty-two, and looked as if she hadn't aged a day over thirty. She'd yet to feature in a single MILF film. "Better from you than his friends, right?"

"You're right," I said, and she was. She was always right.

"What's the matter with him . . ." Arianna trailed off, making a quick jerking motion with her hand, and finished saying "to your videos, anyway?"

I felt my eyes snap open with surprise, though I shouldn't have been. I had featured in some pretty freaky scenes in my day, but Arianna had been several times worse. There was a reason why she was—and still is—heralded as the "Queen of Taboo."

"Because he's my son?" I almost yelled, the waffle cup crumbling in my startled grasp.

"Haven't you ever heard of Freedom of Love, Rox?" Arianna said, apparently not bothered by my tone. "Besides, you and I both have done incest films," she went back to her cone, licking slowly and seductively around her mountain of ice cream.

"But those were fake!" I said as hushed as my frustration would allow.

"But you did say that hearing that guy call you 'Mom' turned you on," Arianna winked, smiling wickedly.

I blushed, lowering my head. I felt my pussy twinge, and images of Zander, my darling son, stroking himself to my videos returned. Fresh and vivid, as if I were peeking into his bedroom all over again.

No, a voice chastised. You can't think like that, he's your son!

"How big is his cock . . .?" She asked carefully, but it did her no good.

"Jesus, Ari, it's my—"

"Son? Yeah, I know. So how big is it?"

"God . . ." I shook my head, wishing I could hide my face in my ample cleavage without getting strange looks. An old man sitting at a table next to us seemed to beg me to do it with his eyes. "I don't know, Ari . . . he's probably Peter North big?" I answered, my voice clear with shame and uncertainty. Of course, Arianna's face brightened.

Christ, I thought. This is such an inappropriate conversation for an Ice Cream shop. Even if we are outside.

"Hot!" She squealed, squirming in her seat.

"Seriously, Ari," I said, feeling a weak smile creep up the corners of my lips. "I don't know why I still talk to you."

"That's because I bring out your inner sicko," Ari grinned, slurping up the last bit of her ice cream cone.

Later on that day, I had watched him, again, stroking himself to another one of my videos. It had been one of my early ones, from the 80s, when I was still young and thin, my hair done up in the classic Farrah Fawcett do. I suddenly felt self-conscious, ashamed of how much I'd let myself go. Arianna had said that my new weight made me look more appealing, more voluptuous, and the amorous stares I still got when I walked in the super market confirmed that.

Zander sat with his back to me, headphones covering his ears, slumped down in his desk chair. He swiveled slightly from right to left while his hand stroked along his engorged length, his mouth slightly agape, eyes fixed on my naked, screwed body on his computer screen.

Who the hell was I kidding? It made me hot. Hotter than the one incestuous scene Arianna and I did all those years ago, hotter than being called "Mom" while my pretend-son plowed my slutty, needy cunt. Because now, I had my own real son, who apparently desired me, stroking his beautiful cock with sweet abandon.

What better opportunity than this? I thought, slipping into his bedroom and creeping up behind him. I became excited, my nipples growing firm, my panties absolutely ruined, the sights and sounds of my baby boy stroking himself unleashing a newfound nastiness within me. All I could think about was shoving that cock of his into my mouth, and showering myself in his cum.

I slowly kneeled, reaching over the back of his chair and snatching off his headphones, whilst swiveling his chair toward me. Horror widened his eyes, every inch of his exposed flesh flushed with shameful crimson. His mouth fell completely open, his chest rising and falling with panic. His hand slackened around his shaft.

I almost backed down, feeling like I had made a grave mistake, but I had gotten this far. There was no sense in turning back. I couldn't. And so I took him into my hand, his shaft already slick with precum and saliva.

And he froze, as if he'd forgotten to breathe.

I stroked him, his cock slipping easily in my hands.

Finally, he relaxed, though his expression was still one of uncertainty. He moaned as I continued, chewing his bottom lip, looking right scrumptious.

I spat on it, saliva sliding down his head, down my fingers, and onto his balls. I stroked harder, faster, a silent hunger for cock swirling within me. I took him into my mouth, sliding my lips down to his base, feeling his head pulse in the back of my throat. My experience shone through like sunlight through gray skies. He moaned, squirming beneath me. I bobbed on him, his hot length slipping in and out of my mouth, tongue sliding against the underside of his cock. My mouth crested the tip, and I slurped, savoring the bittertang of his precum. The taste shot a an arrow of electricity through my cunt, warm, tingling pleasure exploding into my thighs.

"Mom . . ." He whispered, and my mouth parted from him with a pop, a string of saliva connecting us. The word did wonders on my nerves. "I'm . . ."

I knew what was coming, and I lifted my coral tank top half-way, thankful that I was bra-less. I'd get to try one of my famous tricks on him. My son watched me with half-closed eyes, he watched me pull my shirt over his cock, felt his cock slip in-between his horny mother's tits, and watched the bulbous, purpling head of his cock peek up in my cleavage.

I jounced my tits on his cock, squeezing them together, my eyes watching his tongue slide over his lips, his eyebrows drawn together. He bucked his hips against me, both of his hands tangled in his dark hair.

"Fuck!" He moaned, discretion abandoned.

"You're going to come all over your mommy's tits, hm? Gonna cover me in your fucking jizz?" I bounced harder, feeling a sharp twinge in my pussy. My pussy throbbed, and I could feel my juices trickle hotly down my thighs.

"Damn . . . ma . . ."

"Come all over these tits, Zander. Come all over your mama's filthy fucking tits!"

And before long he'd spurted, ropes of thick, hot cum stringing against my neck, my chin, my tits. Lovely. His body jerked, pleasure jolting his hips upward, the underside of his cock hot against the curve of my neck.

I rose to my feet, smoothing a finger along my cum-slick cleavage, and sucked off his sperm. I saw his cock twitch, his lips sucking in a sharp breath, and I felt my mouth grin, accomplished. I turned, and padding bare feet out of his bedroom, giving him my best walk.

"Oh God, yes," I heard him say quietly. I shook my head.

This was merely the beginning.

"I might rent some movies tonight. Anything you're interested in seeing?" Mom asked as I appeared in the kitchen door way, flipping through a gossip magazine. She appeared to be only half-interested in its pages. She sat in the living room, shifting slightly in her place on the loveseat.

"Probably anything with Adam Sandler in it," I replied, drying my hands with a hand towel—I had been in the middle of washing dishes. Leaning against the door frame, I draped the towel over my shoulder and folded my arms.

Golden late-morning sunlight spilled through drawn windows, Mom basking in its warmth, her fiery mane blazing. She dressed simply, a soft green blouse and a pair of denim jeans, her pretty feet slipped into a pair of green heels. It was simply amazing how she could make something so simple look so damn . . . sexy. Especially the way her jeans fit around her voluptuous legs, as if they were painted on, and like most of her blouses, this one had revealed her milky, plentiful cleavage.

"You know, I think I could go for a Sandler movie myself," she nodded approvingly, a slow smile creasing her lips. She was placid, serene, like she usually was on a Saturday, and it bothered the living hell out of me.

I couldn't understand how she did it—act so casual, so natural. As if just last week she had not slipped into my bedroom while I obliviously stroked myself to videos of her when she was involved in the adult industry. As if she hadn't taken my cock into her hot, cock-starved mouth, felt it slide easily between her breasts, felt my cum splash against her creamy skin—tits and neck and chin. As if our little venture had been nothing more than a dream, a gratifyingly vivid dream.

She caught me staring, her calm expression melting into a quizzical mask. She closed her magazine on her lap, the motion strangely sensual. The concern was clear in her eyes, and I could sense the fear bleeding through her peaceful air, forming around her like an oppressive rain cloud. I then realized that her serenity was counterfeit, her casualness put on. She must have been trying to keep things normal between us since our little escapade. I couldn't blame her.

Might be why we haven't done anything since then, I thought. Or maybe it was a dream, and I'm just going out of my fucking mind!

"What's wrong, hun?" She asked carefully, trying to sound as casual as possible, failed.

I padded bare feet into the living room, and plopped beside her on the loveseat. She smelled wonderfully—vanilla and honey—and my fingers ached to touch her skin, to explore every inch of it, inside and out. I felt my cock grow good and stiff, strangled behind my jeans and boxer briefs. I took a deep breath.

"Of course," I said, finally, "you know that I watch your videos online sometimes—well, all the time." She paused, but then nodded hesitantly, her expression uncertain.

I continued. "And, well, the thing we did last week . . ." I trailed off, almost unconscious of my hand smoothing around her denim-clad thigh. She tensed, sucking in a quick breath, but then relaxed, her copious chest falling slowly. "I really want to do it again, and obviously you do, too."

I noticed her mouth perk up slightly at the corners, an easy smile, as if she'd been waiting for me to say something—anything, to let her know that she wasn't a terrible mother, that what we had done the previous week was not a mistake.

And she was on me within a blink's time, her tongue up against my neck and around my ear, her right hand cupped around my aching bulge. Her touch flushed my skin with heat, coating my every nerve with electricity. She had breached my jeans, unbuttoned and unzipped, and now my cock was in her tiny hands, her fingers barely reaching around my throbbing shaft.

"Good," she whispered, her breath hot against my skin, sending waves of goose flesh through my body. "Because I want you," she continued, "and I want this big . . . fucking . . . cock." Her grip grew firm, and I felt my cock twitch, threatening to erupt. She pressed smiling lips against the curve of my neck, and I exhaled a silent breath.

She'd easily slipped into porn star mode.

Mom rose with liquid motion onto her heels, standing before me like a supervillainess with her hip cocked to one side, her hands creeping toward the hem of her blouse. Slowly, she began lifting her top, revealing her soft tummy, her green mesh and lace bra that seemed to struggle to contain her monstrous breasts—36DD according to one of her fansites. Letting her blouse fall from her delicate fingers, her jeans were next, and she turned and bent over as she slowly peeled them from around her ass—plump and shapely—my eyes catching a glimpse of her bare slit. Christ, she wore no panties, the fact resulting abuse for my lower lip, my teeth pressing anxiously into it. A moment later, she was stepping out of her jeans, turning as she reached to undo her bra.

She stalked toward me, her steps slow and sultry, determined. She stepped over her bra once it fell from her shoulders, her full, pendulous breasts exposed, hard pink nipples seeming to beckon his fingers, his mouth. She was absolutely gorgeous, stunning in her rubenesque glory. She reminded me of a Goddess, caught in late-morning sunshine.

I didn't take long for me to get undressed as she approached, my clothes piled messily on the cushion beside me. My cock twitched something fierce, its ripe and engorged head dripping precum.

"Mmmm," she uttered as she kneeled before my seated form, as if she'd been offered a feast. "Look at that big fucking cock . . . it can't wait to get inside of mommy's pussy, huh?" She teased, inching closer between my legs, her heavy breasts brushing against my inner thighs. It was a good thing I wasn't standing.


Close Knit Ch. 02



Ch. 02 Aunt Emma

Mom and I were in Emma's—my aunt and Mom's youngest sister—apartment dining room, sitting across from one another at the square rustic pine dining table. Aunt Emma was in the kitchen, fixing Mom and herself some coffee, and some ginseng tea for me. We were there at my suggestion, after Mom had informed me that of all of her siblings, Aunt Emma had been the most open-minded when it came to my Mom's former career in the adult film industry. In fact, Mom had said, Aunt Emma encouraged it, and even considered doing it herself.

But what had gotten me interested in paying Aunt Emma a visit was hearing that she and Mom had fooled around with each other up until High School, and had made a failed attempt to seduce their older brother, Uncle Greg, during her freshman year of college. She'd been just as fucked up in the head as me and Mom. Getting into her pants was going to be a cakewalk. Anticipation made my cock throb achingly behind my black jeans.

Mom stared at me. Grinning. She was just as anxious to do unspeakable things to Aunt Emma as I was. She'd worn a black tank top, revealing an awful amount of cleavage, and a pair of blue jeans. God she was hot. Looking at her only made me hotter, filling my mind—already cluttered with dirty, nasty thoughts—with memories of me and Mom's first ... encounter. She had snuck up on me while I was masturbating to her old videos online, and had given me a fantastic blow-job, and then finished me off with a tit-fuck. I had finally stuffed her cunt with my dick about a week later. We haven't stopped since. Jack rabbits, us two.

"Tea is ready!" Aunt Emma said in her best Oxford voice, appearing in the dining room. She carried a white china platter with two mugs and a teacup resting atop of it. She and Mom's facial features were so much alike—could almost pass for twins—but that was where the physical similarities ended.

Whereas my mother was a thick, voluptuous woman with long fiery red hair and big green eyes, Aunt Emma was slimmer, her lustrous blond hair trimmed just below the ears, and watched with dark hazel eyes. Like my mother, though, Aunt Emma was naturally well-endowed in the chest department, but she couldn't compare to Mom's 38G tits.

"Why thank you, dear sister," Mom said giggling, her British accent terrible.

Aunt Emma set the platter atop the dining table's clothed surface, skillfully keeping our drinks from sloshing around too much.

"Ginseng tea for the awesome nephew," Aunt Emma said, carefully handing me my steaming beverage. "And two cups of java for the grown-ups." She shot me a look, her eyes smiling.

I had been sipping my tea, and almost choked. "Oh, so I'm not grown-up now?" I said in joking offense.

"Nope," My mother answered into her mug, slurping her coffee.

"But I'm eighteen now!"

"You're still a little boy to me." Aunt Emma and Mom laughed together, and I put on my best pouty face. "See what I mean?"

We all laughed.

Emma finally sat herself down, lifting her mug. "I'm glad that you guys came to visit my place for a change," she said after taking a scalding sip, "I usually have to stop by your house."

"I know!" Mom said. She set her unfinished coffee back on the platter, and Emma's brow quirked up, confusion apparent in her hazel eyes. "We're actually here for a reason, though, sis'."

"Yep," I agreed, sipping my red ginseng. Something stirred in me. Energy. My cock throbbed even harder behind my jeans.

"Uh oh, who died?" Aunt Emma asked, her face serious. She stopped sipping her coffee.

"Zander and I are having sex." Mom practically blurted out, as if telling her sister that it was cloudy outside.

"Say what?" Emma exclaimed, disbelief in her expression ... and ... was that intrigue? It was. So Aunt Emma really was like me and Mom, after all. I felt a bolt of relief shoot through me. "Bullshit, I don't believe you."

"We are," I said while standing. I moved to stand behind Mom, my hands finding her shoulders. "Everyday, almost."

"Mhm," Mom confirmed cheerfully.

"No fucking way!" Aunt Emma had been smiling and shocked at the same time. I had never seen her eyes look so blue. "Roxy, you slut! You suck! You stole my fantasy!"

"What?" Mom turned on her innocent voice, giggling. "Hey, you should have gotten knocked up, then!"

"Kiss." Aunt Emma suddenly said—no, demanded. She needed proof that we weren't bullshitting her. Understandable. I wouldn't have believed us either. But instead of leaning into kiss Mom, I did Aunt Emma one better.

My hands slid down the neck of her tank top, and pulled it down, bra and all, allowing her creamy tits to bounce free. Aunt Emma gasped, surprised, giving me just the reaction I was looking for. As I pincered my mom's nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, I leaned down to kiss her bare shoulder, up to her neck, and then flicked my tongue softly against her ear.

"Mmmm, baby," Mom moaned, her right hand reached for the nape of my neck, her left slipping down the front of her denims. "Make mommy feel good ..."

Aunt Emma drew in a hissing breath then. I looked up at her. Her tongue slithered across her upper lip, squirming in her seat, eyes fixed on her big sister's magnificent breasts. I groped them, bounced them, squeezed them; every action rewarding me with a sweet reaction, from both mother and auntie. Mom moaned and cooed, while Aunt Emma fidgeted and whined sweetly.

"God, you guys were for real," she muttered, almost to herself.

"Of course ... we were," Mom managed inbetween moans. I had been sucking on her neck.

"But why come all the way over to tell me? I mean—"

"Because," I said, breaking my mouth away from my mother's pale flesh, explaining to my Aunt inbetween kisses against Mom's ear and neck and shoulder, "we ... want to ... to join ... us."

Aunt Emma winced, and I flashed her a devilish smile. Time to make a move.

"I'll move our drinks," Mom said. I gave her enough space to get up from the table, and began removing my clothes while she retrieved the cups and the china platter, carrying them into the kitchen. Finally in the buff, I looked to my auntie, who was staring at my cock.

It was fully engorged, staring right up at me, aching. I watched her size up all eight or so inches, her tongue gliding along her lips again.

"Hungry?" I teased. "Not a little boy anymore, huh?"

Aunt Emma shot me a look, smirking. "You have a pretty dick, my gorgeous nephew," she said, "but let's see what you can do with it, hm?" Mom slipped back into the room, her jeans draped over her arm, a fiery strip of hair right above her clit. She hadn't bothered removing her tank top, as her tits were already exposed. Besides, she looked sexier that way.

"Gracious," Aunt Emma said wondrously with her eyes locked on Mom, completely forgetting about me and my throbbing erection. But I couldn't help but smile though ... the fact Aunt Emma looked at Mom in such a way was stimulating. "I'd almost forgotten how fucking hot you were, sis," Emma continued, "in person that is."

"I bet I taste the same, though." Mom draped her jeans over the back of one of the dining chairs, and hopped up on the dining table. She whirled around on her butt until she was facing her little sister, parting her delicious thighs to expose the quivering snatch that practically beckoned Aunt Emma's tongue. "Wanna see?"

Emma wasted no words, rising to her feet as my mother leaned back on her elbows. My auntie delved in, slathering her tongue against Mom's cunt, lapping and slurping hungrily. For several long minutes I only stood there, watching, my hand unconsciously stroking along my cock. Aunt Emma looked gorgeous bent over like that, her face bobbing slightly between Mom's legs. And Mom looked just as hot. Her tits in the air, head thrown back, licking her lips and moving her hips against her mother's mouth. It looked like they had forgotten all about me.

It was time to make them aware again.

I moved behind Aunt Emma and hiked her knee-length skirt over her ass. She jumped, surprised. They did forget about me, it seemed. But could I blame them? If I was face deep in Mom's cunt, I think I'd forget the world around me as well. I knelt, pulling aside her nondescript panties. I prodded index and middle finger against her slit—soft and moist, emanating a heat and a fragrance that made me salivate. I shoved my fingers inside.

"Mm!" Aunt Emma moaned against my mother's snatch.

"Slutty auntie," I said, and Emma moved eagerly against my fingers, gyrating. Calling her by her family title did something to her, it seemed. Mom was exactly the same. I decided to play on it.

"Mm." I licked her, slithering the tip of my tongue against her silken folds. "Auntie," I whispered behind her, "You taste so fucking good."

"Oh God ..." Emma groaned, her breath hitching.

"Oh yeah, get it nice and wet, baby," said Mom. "And then stuff it with your big fucking cock!"

I did just as I was told, obeying Mommy Dearest gleefully, licking and prodding and sucking on my aunt's pussy. Tasting her, devouring her, feeling her wiggle her ass against my face, pressing my nose into her ample cheeks.

"Oh God!"

"No, no, little sister," Mom tangled her fingers in Emma's hair, grinning. "Big sis didn't say you could stop eating her cunt." Mom shoved her face back down, lifting her hips against Emma's mouth.

I had risen to my feet, and guided myself inside of my aunt, hot and tight, her walls closing around my twitching shaft and slicking it with pussy juices. I started off pounding into her, my body audibly slamming against her ass. Aunt Emma tried her best to keep her mouth on her sister's pussy, her screams smothered. I looked up to my mother, watching her tits heave on her chest. Her eyes were locked on me, watching her son slam his cock into his sexy little aunt. She bit her bottom lip, her brows upturning.

"Oh fuck!" Mom gyrated even more against Emma's mouth. "Fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna fucking come! Fuck her harder, Zander! Fuck your slutty aunt's pussy harder!"

Her words, coupled with the hot velvet closed around my shaft, sent raw pleasure rippling throughout my body. The need to explode in aunt's dripping cunt roiled within, but I suppressed the feeling, easing up my thrusts. I made them long, slow, steady. An orgasm rolled through Mom, her body shuddering. Aunt Emma's mouth was probably soaked.

Getting a handful of her hair, I pulled her up, shoving my tongue into her mouth. Hers moved against mine, allowing me to taste my mom's delicious pussy. I parted from our lip-bruising kiss, and turned her around, pushing her against the table. Mom pulled her back against her tits, lifting Emma's shirt and bra over her breasts. They were larger than I thought. Ripe, pendulous things that stared at me with large pink nipples. I wondered how they'd look in my mother's mouth.

As my mom reached around and groped them, I grabbed my aunt by her thighs and slammed back into her, rubbing my fingers against her clit in small, hard circles. "Pound me ..." My aunt said—whined. "Deeper ... deeper! More!"

Her tits jounced around as I drilled into her shaved pussy. I moved my fingers faster against her clit, grinding my hips some. Her moans become louder, her breathing raspier. Mom had pressed her mouth against Emma's, their tongues flicking against one another's. And suddenly the moist velvet clinched tightly around my shaft, liquid flame drowning my length.

"Fuuuck!" Emma moaned, groping at her own tits as her body trembled with a hard orgasm. It took every erg of my self control to keep from releasing myself, exploding hot white seed inside of her.

"Take out your cock, baby." Mom climbed off the table and walked around to kneel before me, Aunt Emma doing the same.

"I'm going to fucking lose it if you both—holy shit!"

Before I could finish my sentence, both of their mouths were on me; mom's tongue slithered about the head of my cock, while Aunt Emma took my balls into her mouth. She eventually moved her mouth to the tip of my shaft, and I felt both of their hot tongues move against my mushroom head, lapping up every ounce of precum that dripped from me.

"I'm gonna fucking come!" I warned, bucking my hips forward some. "Awwww shit!"

I came harder than I ever had before, coating my mother and auntie with ropes of sticky cum. My cock furiously twitched with orgasm for several long moments before my body calmed down again. And I watched them, licking cum off of eachother's faces, swapping it back and forth in their mouths. The sight was fucking hot, to say the least.

"Mm ..." My auntie moaned satisfactorily. "I guess your baby boy knows what to do with that cock of his." She gave it another kiss before she wiped the corner of her mouth with a finger.

"Tell me about it," Mom laughed, milking my cock with her hand, trying her best to get every bit of cum. It was so sensitive. I thought I'd go mad from her touching me. Thankfully, I didn't.

"Give me about five minutes," I said, out of breath.

Aunt Emma looked up at me, puzzled. "For what, hon?"

"Round two," I said. Smiled.



Close Knit Ch. 03.2



Chapter 3.2: Lil Miss Hypocrite

"I saw you... in dad's office. With mom," I said quietly. I lay across his bed, resting my chin on the back of my hands. It's been three days since I saw Nathan and my mother together. Three days since I watched them in my father's office, my mother bent over her husband's desk while her son plowed her from behind. Her fantasy come true, according to a diary she kept hidden in the attic. We'd discovered it, and was taken aback by its contents. Nathan had appeared troubled after reading it, disgusted even. But then...

"Yeah, I know." Nathan swiveled in his computer chair to face me. He leaned against the armrest, fist pressed against his cheek. "You were peeking through the door."

"You knew?" I asked. I didn't catch his eyes shift toward the door that night. Not once. "How did you—?"

"You left the door cracked, Rena."

Duh. "Oh... right." I fell silent. I wanted to say something, but the right words eluded me. I hadn't thought of what to say beyond telling him that I saw him and mom fucking. Nathan just sat there, rocking softly in his chair, as if waiting for me to say something. He seemed... fine. Unphased. I'm not sure why, but I half-expected him to be wallowing in confusion and shame, much like I had been the last few days. But he was just regular old Nate. Cool and confident.

"Why?" I asked several long moments later.

"Because," he simply said, as if the answer was completely obvious.

"Come on, Nate, that's not an answer," I told him. "Why? Why did you do it?"

"Because," he said again, "because... I don't know. I just wanted her, man."

I hopped from his bed and stood over him. He didn't look up. "You don't see anything wrong with that? You didn't feel any shame afterward?"

He snorted, looking up to me with his deep blue eyes, and said, "Do I see anything wrong with fucking my own mother? Yeah. Do I feel shame? No... not really." We'd been talking quietly up until then, and I suddenly felt a pang of fear in my belly. Not only was it been late, Dad was back home, and I prayed to God he didn't hear Nathan just then.

"How, Nate?" I asked in a hushed tone. "What kind of sick person would—"

"Do something like that?" he finished. Impatience weighed heavy in his voice. His eyes seemed to grow darker. "In case you forgot, little sis, you watched. You watched for a long time. Probably touched yourself, too. So don't get all high and mighty with me, li'l miss hypocrite."

I peeled my gaze away from his, his words stinging. He was right. I did watch. I watched them, and I enjoyed it. It turned me on like nothing else in the world. But unlike Nathan I couldn't shake away the shame, the guilt. Incest was wrong... plain and simple, no matter how much it aroused me. Nathan stood, his football player physique looming over me this time. He was close... real close. My nipples pressed softly against his chiseled chest, and I felt them harden like rocks. Oh, God.

"What's the matter, huh?" Nathan said, his voice hard.

With my head turned, I could feel his breath splash against my neck, and I shivered. Need pricked at my nether region. Hot, forbidden need. I tried fighting the feeling, but it was a losing battle. My body appeared to have a mind of its own. I was just there for the ride. I backed up a single step, and Nathan's hand wrapped around my tiny wrist, stopping me.

"You're turned on right now, aren't you?" he said looking down at my chest. My nipples strained through my t-shirt, beckoning him. "So what was all that talk before, Rena? Jealousy?"

Then I felt his other hand cup my pussy through my volleyball shorts, and I gasped. Lust swelled within me, urging me to give in. I fought. I tried pulling away from him, but he was stronger than me. He held me in place, his hand rubbing at my moistening slit. My shorts were getting drenched.

"Please, Nate," I pleaded. "This is wrong... we—you can't do this..."

"Then tell me to stop," he said.

"Nate, please!" A small voice, perhaps my conscience, screamed the words, but they couldn't make it past my lips.

Nate pushed me, and I fell back against his mattress. I tried scrambling myself together, but Nathan was too quick, too strong. He grabbed the waistline of my shorts and pulled them off, tossing them behind him. Then he grabbed the back of my knees and pushed them back, exposing my bare, unshaven pussy that glistened with warm juices. I screamed in my mind, but my body had given in. This was wrong... but I wanted it. I wanted it bad. I wanted my brother.

"No panties, huh?" Nathan said with a wolfish smile. His mouth, kissable and perfect, hovered over my pussy as he spoke, and the heat made my clit throb. I struggled a little bit, but he easily held me there.

Then he licked me.

Firey pleasure swirled in the pit of my stomach, and then spread throughout every nerve in my body. I quivered, trying to say something but nothing coherent escaped me.

He licked me again.

I felt his tongue glide slowly from my hole to my clit. He swirled around the throbbing bud a few times before slithering that tongue back down to my needy little hole again. I thought I would lose it once he shoved his tongue inside me. I watched his head bob as he tongue fucked me, his eyes staring up at me with a sensuality that made me want him even more.

Moments later he worked his way back up to my clit, and sucked it into his mouth. I squirmed beneath him, writhing in pleasure, electricity grazing against the nerves in my thighs, my belly, and my chest.

"This is wrong," I heard myself say in a quiet voice. "This is so bad... I'm bad. I am so—" Pleasure shot through me like an arrow, my body quaking with an orgasm. My head fell back, eyes rolling to the back of my skull. I did my best to stay quiet, but I just couldn't. The pleasure was too great. Luckily, before I could get any louder, Nathan held his hand over my mouth, and I moaned against his palm.

"You are bad," Nathan said. I couldn't see his face, but I just knew he was smiling, impressed with himself. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down, taking deep breaths through my nose. I'd never cum that hard in my life. My entire body was sensitive. I felt like I might die if something went anywhere near my pussy again. I had begun to wonder why Nathan's hand still covered my mouth until I heard the rustle of fabric sliding off of skin.

"Mmm!" I moaned against his hand, eyes snapping open. His cock invaded me, and I almost came again.

My pussy walls clinched around his shaft, and my body shook as though I'd been tossed in freezing weather. I looked up, watching his cock slide out of me as he slowly dragged his hips back, and back in with a quick, hard thrust that made me want to scream. God it felt good. Too good. I wondered if my mother had felt this way when Nathan was inside of her. The feeling was indescribable.

Uncovering my mouth, finally, he sat up on his knees and pulled his shirt over his head. He looked like a Michelangelo masterpiece. His football training had sculpted him to perfection. He then reached down and pulled the hem of my t-shirt over my breasts, and I suddenly felt self-conscious. My breasts weren't as big as my mother's... he probably wouldn't have as much fun with them. Or so I thought. He leaned in and wrapped his lips around one, his hand cupping the other. I gnawed my lower lip, trying not to squeal in pleasure, especially when his hips started working again, pumping his cock in and out of my sopping cunt.

"Nathan..." I murmured. He suckled hungrily at my sensitive nipples, and pleasure frayed at my nerves like fire. I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him against my chest, silently begging him not to stop. He pounded me into another orgasm, my back arching severely. I squeaked out a moan, and I wrapped both arms around Nathan's head as my body tremored.

He continued to drill me, stroking through my orgasm. He sat up on his knees once my grip on him slackened, and let his hands take hold of my waist as he fucked me, pulling me against him. Strands of dark brown hair clung to his face with perspiration, and he was biting down on his lower lip, too. I wondered if he was close. I hoped he was. I wanted his cum, on me... in me...

Several moments later he pulled out of my pussy with a grunt, and his seed splashed warmly against my skin. Gorgeous cum covered my tits and belly, glittering prettily beneath the dull lighting of his bedroom. He looked to me with a smile, his chiseled chest heaving. I wanted to say something, but again, I couldn't find the right words to say. I just lay there, breathing ragged breaths, my hands rubbing my brother's cum into my skin.

It's still wrong, I thought.

But I love it.

~::-::-::-::~

I stood outside of my parent's bedroom, waiting, listening. My mother lie on the other side of the door, touching herself. I knew because I could hear her mewling, could hear her soft voice call out someone's name. A name that wasn't my father's. She was calling out to my brother, Nathan. Her own son. She was disgusting. She was sick and she was twisted.

But so was I.

Why, just days before I had allowed Nathan to take me in his bedroom, just as he'd taken our mother a week before in our father's study. I had told myself that that the act was abominable, wicked, but knowing that hadn't struck me with shame, only arousal. Which was probably why I was waiting outside of my parent's room with a hand up my skirt, listening to my mother masturbate to thoughts of her son.

I didn't have to worry about anyone catching me. My father was out at work, as was my brother. Though I wouldn't have minded if Nathan found me here. In fact, it might have made things interesting. I licked my lips and then bit my lower lip. The slow, vertical strokes I was making against my slit became a little more aggressive—a little harder, a little faster. God, I wanted my brother inside me. I craved the weight of him against me, on top of me, with his hips working his cock in and out of my hungry pussy.

A moan from inside my parent's room penetrated my thoughts. My mother's moan. I could hear something else, too... A smacking sound, soft and wet and quick. I knew that sound, the sound of working fingers, slamming in and out of a sopping pussy. It turned me on even more. Hunger washed over me, and suddenly I needed to be in that room. I needed to be in there and do unspeakable things to her—my mother.

Without much thought I twisted the knob and opened the door, its creaking hinges drowned by the increasing volume of mom's cries. Inside I saw her lying naked in her king sized bed, writhing in a mess of white sheets, blankets and pillows as she worked her fingers in and out of her pussy. With her eyes squeezed shut, she seemed too into the fantasy playing in her head to be aware of my presence. So I took advantage, stripping down to nothing, leaving a pile of my clothes at the foot of her bed. I grasped her attention by shutting her bedroom door.

Mom sat up, her big hazel eyes snapping open. She covered her ample breasts the best she could with her forearm, while her free hand covered her middle. She was stock still for a moment or two, her face frozen in surprise and terror, and then let out an alleviated breath once she realized who her intruder was. Her expression turned to bewilderment then.

"Um...Rena? Why are you naked?" she asked.

"I saw you," I told her, slowly stalking her, "with Nathan, in the study."

Mom's eyes widened again. She flipped her dark blond hair from her face with the shake of a head, and looked away. Her mouth opened and closed several times. I could tell she was trying to find something to say, but the words eluded her it seemed.

I climbed onto her bed, crawling slowly toward her. Mom inched away, her back pressing against the wooden headboard. Confusion reclaimed my mother's pretty face, and then she asked, "What do you plan to do?"

"With you?" I asked, canting my head slightly. "Or about you and Nathan fucking?"

"I..."

"Get in on the fun," I told her. I was close, now. I grazed her mouth with mine when she turned away, exposing her delicate jawline and her delectable neck. I leaned in further, and licked that neck of hers. "Mommy," I whispered, "I want to fuck you like Nathan did...my pussy is so wet for you right now."

I heard her gasp, and felt her quiver against my lips. "Rena... oh my God."

I pressed my lips softly against my mother's neck, and trailed soft kisses down the slope of her neck, down to the tops of her breasts. I continued once I pulled her hand from her chest, letting my lips and tongue wander in the valley of her breasts. She quivered with every touch, looking down at me with a sultry look in her eyes. As my mouth traveled further south, mom removed her other hand and nudged her hips toward me. Her pussy glistened wetly, her lips and clit red and swollen from the abuse she'd been giving it before I barged in. It looked good enough to eat. I sat up and grabbed my mother's thighs, pulling her toward me so that she lay flat on her back. Getting good and comfortable, I dipped my head between her thighs.

Mom's hips rose a little as I pressed my hot mouth against her pussy. Tongue swept over her pussy lips in soft, vertical strokes. The feeling of her pussy against my mouth made my clit throb, and I reached my hand under me to rub my fingers against the tiny nub. I dug my tongue betwixt her folds, moving it stiffly against her hole and dragging it up to her clit. Mom mewled, her hips rising again. I looked up to find her watching me. Her upturned brows were knitted together, and she gnawed her lower lip. She looked so hot...

"Yes... just like that!" she whined.

"You like that, mommy?" I asked her, my voice almost childlike.

"Oh, God! I love it when you call me that!"

And I loved saying it. The nastiness of it made my pussy twinge.

My mother's hands reached down and spread her labia, and I focused my tongue on her clit, lapping hungrily. I rubbed harder at my own pussy, the pleasure causing me to moan against my mother's clit. She reacted with a subtle gyration of her hips, and sexy little whine. I dragged my tongue back down to her hole, and shoved it in as deep as I could.

"Ahn! Oh, baby...yes, yes!" She bucked, and her thighs closed around my head. An orgasm shot through her. I could feel her juices splash against my tongue, hot and tangy, sweet. I loved it... my mommy's girl cum.

"Come here," she said, relaxing her thighs. She gently grasped my chin, and guided me toward her, colliding my mouth with hers in a hard, savage kiss that tingled my spine and prickled my cunt with need. Our tongues tangled, exploring each other's mouths. My pussy ached, especially when her fingers teased my rock hard nipples.

She tore away from the kiss. "Lie back."

I fell back against the mattress, spreading my thighs. Dipping her head, she pressed her mouth against my clit. Fire ignited in my belly, and spilled down into my legs. A guttural moan escaped me. Nathan had done a good job of eating me out during our little lark, but mom had known exactly what she was doing. Her tongue moved swiftly, swirling against my clit, sending pleasure through me in waves.

"Mn! Mom!" I sat up some, my elbows supporting me. My mother watched me as she feasted, sucking and slurping, making me squirm beneath her mouth. And then she fanned the flames that raked my nerves. She shoved a finger inside of me, and my breath hitched. She added another finger, slipping them in and out of my hole. So good... it felt so good.

My eyes fluttered, head falling back. A severe arch curved my spine, and I'd lost sight of reality. I tried to squirm away, but she held me in place. Her mouth never stopped working, sucking on my clit while her fingers pumped my pussy, three fingers now. My sensitivity skyrocketed, and I shook uncontrollably.

I felt my mother's mouth move from my clit to my pelvis, planting a soft kiss there that made my hips lurch upward. If she touched me again I was going to lose it.

"Jesus, mom..." I whispered between breaths.

"Had no idea you were into girls," I heard her say with laughter in her voice. I whimpered when she kissed my inner thigh, shaking.

"I'm not," I told her, "I'm into you."