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The Nasty Wife Pt. 01

By: YourGirlGracie



"Does that feel good, baby?" my wife half-whispered, tightening her grip, pumping a little faster.

"Yeah..." I cooed, throbbing in her hand, slightly writhing from her ecstatic touch.

We'd gone to my mother's for the weekend, that day being Friday. It'd been a while since we last visited, so staying over was quite nice. Miranda and I inherited my old bedroom, which was turned into a guest room after I left. Since my sister was just a door over, and because my mom was just down the hall, we were too afraid to have full-blown sex, as she was always kind of loud during. However, she couldn't keep her hands off me for the entire weekend, so she settled with using only her hands and mouth.

Miranda's hand squelched as it stroked my shaft, for she'd saturated me in lubricants prior to pleasuring me. It was such a wet, sloppy hand-job, and she had no inhibition about jerking her wrist upward and downward until I was weak and squirming. She alternated between her left and right hands, and also using both at the same time, pounding me with a hold that grew tighter and tighter as she progressed. During, I stared at her and her thin lips, slightly angular features, and rather impassive brown eyes beneath a pair of thick framed glasses. She was a brunette with a very serious, phlegmatic aesthetic, yet she'd the most perverted mind and ravenous libido of anyone I'd ever met. Of a rather lithe frame, she'd her top down but her bra on, having forgotten to fully disrobe her D-cups for me in her eagerness to put her hands on my dick.

It was not uncommon for her to talk to me whilst we had sex, either for her to express her lewd, deviant thoughts or to casually chat. While that may seem odd, it was strangely appropriate because we were both present and focused on one another. Now wasn't any different, though we spoke in lowered voices, lest anyone hear us.

"Your mom's butt is a little bigger than I remembered," she fatefully announced.

"What...?" all I knew is that she was mercilessly hand-fucking me, and then we were suddenly talking about my mother.

"What body shape would you say she has? I am going to guess pear, since, while her breasts are, you know, pretty big, her curves are huge. Your mom has a giant ass," as she said this, she didn't stop what she was doing, instead only going harder and faster.

"I don't know..." I softly groaned, shaking my head. "I don't know anything about body types, and I don't really know what you're talking about right now."

"What?" my wife blinked, tugging now with two hands. "Are you telling me you've never noticed the size of your mom's butt? I find that hard to believe, given how big it is."

"I don't know, I don't really check out my own mom, so..."

"It's not checking her out," she squeezed my base so blood would become trapped in my shaft, making me surge and swell, "it's just noticing what's right in front of your face. It's the first thing I noticed when I saw her, and I'm not some sort of lesbian, so if it isn't gay for me to realize the enormousness of her measurements, it's not incest for you to either."

"I'm about to cum, can we please stop talking about this, I don't want to think about my mom while I—"

But it was too late. The moment Miranda realized I'd reached orgasm, she stroked as hard and as fast as she could, though with one hand now, the other fondling my balls to help assist them in releasing built up sperm. Wrapping her lips about my tip, she received stream after stream of my ejaculate in her mouth and on her tongue. When I was finished, she'd a murky, opaque pool of gooey seed to swish around before swallowing, making sure I watched her perform this raunchy act. During my discharge, an image of my mom came into my mind's eye, and afterwards, rather than the sweet afterglow, I was filled with disgust.

"Ugh, I just came to the thought of my mom..." I confessed to her, my voice especially quiet, shuddering.

"Sorry, Hun," something about her apology was superficial, "but I thought you'd last a little longer. I didn't mean to ruin your orgasm."

I forgave her, as there was no use in being mad at my wife over it, though I was still suspicious. She wiped the lube off with a discarded garment and then we slipped into bed. The next day we would spend with my family and had to get up a little early. Having just been sexually relieved, it was easier to fall asleep, yet I couldn't help but contemplate the morality of what just happened. I'd closed my eyes when I started to release, so all I could see was what Miranda had been describing, and it continued to haunt me.

Nothing too exciting happened the following day. I caught up with my sibling while my mother and wife talked. She approved of Miranda, and the two had a certain fondness for each other, despite the fact that Mom was a very warm and tender person and Miranda wasn't very expressive about her emotions, being more of a thinker than a feeler. The highlight was when we looked at an old family photo album. It had every picture of any memory I could bring to mind, including the time we'd gone to the beach a while back. Out of nowhere, my wife asked to borrow it, that she could make copies of certain sections for us to keep. My mother agreed, and it was decided that we'd leave early the next morning to get them copied before the weekend was gone.

There was a certain incident that happened at dinner, however. My mom had gotten up to fetch a bottle of wine from the rack just behind where my sister was seated at the table. She bent down to obtain a bottle from below, and Miranda nudged me. I looked up to catch a glimpse of an enormous set of buttocks in a pair of jeans struggling to contain them, but quickly diverted my eyes. My sibling had seen this gesture from my wife, though thought it regarded her, and flashed us a look of suspicion and confusion. The night continued as usual, though, and we were finally alone in our temporary room.

"Are we on the same page yet?" my wife asked me, my cock in her hand, as I was half-way to climax.

"About what...?" I gasped breathily.

"Your mom's butt," she stated bluntly. "You saw it at dinner, right? It's massive!"

"Miranda...!" I scolded her. "Stop talking about my mom like that, okay? Especially while we're... you know, doing this."

"I didn't want to have to do this, but it looks like I have no choice," my wife said, pulling out a wad of pink cloth and throwing it upon my lower abdomen.

Unrecognizable at first, she then retrieved them, so that she may unbundle what I saw were a pair of wide, gigantic panties. I realized immediately, given the enormity, that they were my mother's. It was disconcerting to think about the woman I married rummaging through the dirty clothes hamper for my mom's underwear just to prove a point.

"Do you see—"

"Okay," I confessed, "they're big, she's... big. Are you happy now? What is even the point of all this?"

"I don't know," she bit her lip whilst eyeing the large undergarments, before putting them a few inches in front of her face and sniffing. "Wow," Miranda's expression immediately went semi-sour, pulling them away, "they smell like really pungent vagina. You've got to smell—"

"Miranda, please, I'm not going to smell my mom's panties. What's gotten into you?"

"I think it's because we haven't had a chance to really fuck in a while," she looked up at me, shifting her weight around on her knees.

Without warning, she took my mom's underwear and wrapped them around my prick. Before I could protest, I was writhing from the cottony sensation of a pair of panties rubbing against my sensitive shaft. Two urges rose within me, one to demand she stop, and the other to give into the pleasure, to ignore the fact it was derived from something that'd been so close to, touching even, my mother's genitals. Despite the fact I was sickened by the incestuous implications, it did feel good, which was frightening and exhilarating.

"Miranda, stop..." I moaned, digging my nails into my thighs to fight the urge to push her away.

"Why?" she ceased her movements momentarily, "are you about to cum?"

"No..."

She picked up where she left off, except even harder and slightly faster.

"M—Miranda," I stammered.

My wife laughed before saying, "Oh my god, I thought you were about to moan 'mom'. That would've been really nasty..."

"No, I was about to say—"

"Don't worry, Hun, just tell me when you're close. We don't want you to cum inside them, because they'd probably stain."

"Baby—"

"That reminds me," she again interrupted, "in those pictures of when you went to the beach, there's totally one where your mom has a camel toe."

"No there isn't," I weakly chuckled, certain of myself.

"How much do you want to bet?"

"There's no bet. I've seen those pictures; I was there when they were taken. There is absolutely no way... that is in any of them."

"Alright, then, so it doesn't matter if you agree to sniffing your mom's panties if I'm right, does it? Because you know I'm wrong, I mean, so it's not going to happen."

"Because that'll never happen in a million years, because I know for a fact that none of the pictures contain anything like that, yeah, I'm willing to agree to it, if only to humor you."

"Shake on it?" she extended her hand.

No sooner than we shook, formalizing our agreement, did she hop up and go to retrieve the photo album. I swallowed, though I knew she was bluffing. Underwear wrapped around my dick, I thought about pulling them off and discarding them, but my wife was already on her knees again, this time with the pictures. Almost instantly, she was at the section of our vacation, and she rotated the album so I could see, pointing right to a close up of my mom in a baby blue one-piece, her soaked, curly hair resting at her G-cup bust. The picture ended at around her knees, though she took up the whole shot, and my eyes drifted down her curvaceous body before finally seeing, to my horror, the wet imprint of a vagina seeping through the tight material of her bathing suit.

"I'm talking about a long, deep whiff, too, Hun," Miranda informed me, unraveling the cotton undergarments and holding them up to my nose. "Pretend you haven't had sex in months and they're mine."

The pheromone heavy musk of cunt—not vagina, not pussy, but cunt—filled my nostrils, and it was absolutely repugnant. My mom frequented the gym, and I realized Friday was one of her workout days, a fact I only remembered because of the sheer pungency of the odors that I was met by. My wife had the freshest pair, though in terms of most recently used, she could have obtained, since they were, without a doubt, my mother's from yesterday. The stink was so prominent that I realized I'd smell it all night, raw and powerful enough to send a literal chill down my spine and make my heart skip a beat before pounding and racing. And despite the fact I knew the horrible fragrance belonged to the hole I'd come from, the pheromones within were indiscriminate in causing me to feel the deepest, most primitive arousal fathomable because of the overwhelming scent of the female sex. It was enough to make me pre-cum a little bit...

"Alright, then," she pulled the odorous garments from my face and returned them to my shaft, "you held up your end of the deal. It's getting kind of late, though, so I'd like to finish this up so I'm not tired in the morning."

I was sexually confused and her words didn't process.

"I know dirty talk helps you along, but I don't think you'd like any of my thoughts at the moment..."

"What are they?" I already knew, and they scared me, but I wanted to hear her say it.

"They're about your mom," she nodded to the photo album still opened on my lap.

Looking down, I saw everything Miranda had previously described. Yes, my mother's body was slightly pear shaped, since her waist was so wide, wider than her shoulders even, and although she had two, hefty breasts, her ass, thighs, and hips remained her most appealing features. I saw the face that I'd remember forever, full lips, dark eyes, a soft, rounded facial structure, and suddenly realized that the way I looked at her was different. No longer was I looking at the woman who birthed me, I was looking at an attractive woman in her early forties, whose body was irresistible and whose facial features retained the beauty of her youth even yet, though refined and matured from middle age. Worst of all was the realization that I wasn't being pleasured while I happened to be looking at pictures of my own mother, I was being pleasured to looking at pictures of my own mother.

"What do you think her pussy looks like?" my wife bit her lower lip, seeing that I couldn't help but stare at the picture she'd showed me, one area in particular, as she rubbed the panties of the woman in the photo against my pulsating dick as hard and as fast as she was physically able to. "Just from the outline, you can tell it's big and swollen, with long, fat pussy lips—"

Visualizing her description sent me over the edge. I didn't even have time to tell her to remove the underwear, for I immediately inseminated into them, a fierce orgasm causing me to spurt strands of the hottest cum from the deepest pit of my balls directly into the crotch. Then, after I was sent to the amazing heights of erotic bliss, I returned and stared down at the huge wad of now creamy undergarments about my glans.

"That was hot, baby," Miranda reveled in the perversity of the moment, opening the used, cummy panties to see my filling within. "Wow, you came a lot, I can't believe it." She looked me right in the eye, gasping exaggeratedly to tease me, before saying in a salacious tone, "You must really want to fuck your own mom."

Her words made me shiver. "Miranda, never do anything like this again, please."

"Why?" she pretended to pout, her mind still in that filthy place since her libido was fiery and active yet. "You didn't like making mommy's panties all messy?"

"Hey, I'm not kidding, this whole thing was really disturbing," I said as I closed the photo album and put it aside. "I'm asking you in total seriousness never to bring my mom into our sex lives."

"What about your sister?"

"No, definitely not her either."

"Why not, Hun?" my wife's playfulness diminished and she analyzed me with her thoughtful, almost emotionless eyes. "I mean, it's not like you're fucking them, it's just pretend."

I picked up the desecrated panties with two fingers, not wanting to come into contact with them anymore, and showcased the pink garment to her, "This isn't pretend, Miranda. And looking at her picture when we do stuff together, that's not pretend either."

"It was pretend until you came inside them. I told you to tell me when you were close, now they're... Whatever, listen, I'm not going to argue with you about this. But you haven't answered my question. When you give me a legitimate answer, I'll leave you alone."

"Let me put it this way," I thought of the perfect retaliation, "what if I talked about your mom like that, huh?"

"I think I'd touch myself."

Although it wasn't exactly surprising, given how much of a literal freak she was in bed, saying unmentionable things on many occasions, I couldn't believe it.

"Hey," she took the soiled underwear from my hand and laid a quick, yet passionate, kiss upon my lips. "I'm going to throw these in the hamper, and then we're going to sleep, okay? It really is getting late, so I'd like to postpone this discussion until next time."

Since I was getting angry at my wife, I became docile, though mostly because I didn't want to fight at my mother's house, or have the memory of arguing about the morality of incest in the first place. I got into bed and closed my eyes. She left and came back a few minutes later, climbed in behind me, and held me close like things weren't so bizarre between us. Waiting in the darkness, my anger subsided, then I was glad to feel her next to me, and I fell asleep. I had a dream about my mother, of which was awkward though not sexual in nature, but I couldn't remember it very well afterwards.

It was almost noon when I awoke. Miranda had left without waking me, and I wondered if it was because of our last conversation or her just being considerate. I dressed and wandered into the living room, which was joined with the kitchen, separated only by a row of countertops. When I didn't see my mom around the house, since she'd such a strong presence that I'd have known if she was home, I realized she'd gone with my wife. My sister was sitting on the couch, and she scowled when she saw me, before shaking her head and causing her furrowed brow and raised lip to disappear. I found the initial look unsettling, and took a seat on the opposite end from where she sat.

"Good morning—"

"Hey, what's up with your wife?" she cut the small talk.

"What do you mean? Did she say or do something?"

Katy flashed me a dirty look as she said, "Well, yeah." There was an awkward pause before she explained, "The walls are paper thin, and my room is right next door to yours."

"I'm sorry if we bothered you," I feared the gravity of her implication, but I tried to act as inconspicuous as possible.

"I could hear you," my sibling reaffirmed my panic. "What's wrong with her?"

"Well, I'm not sure what you heard..."

"You know what I heard, stop acting innocent. If you had sex or whatever, as gross as that is to say, I wouldn't have said anything. But I could hear what she was saying, and I think I'm going to tell mom if you don't come up with a good explanation."

"She's kinky, I guess..."

"Kinky?" Katy gasped at my ridiculous response. "Kinky is when a girl likes to scratch or bite, she was talking... about Mom's you-know-what."

"We were just roleplaying, it wasn't actually about Mom."

"How can you sit there and lie to my face when I heard your entire conversation word for word?"

"Katy, you can't tell Mom. Okay, whatever, maybe Miranda went a little far, but if you told on her, it'd break our family apart."

"Fine, you're right, I won't tell her. But you have to let me ask you questions about it, because my brain is still trying to rationalize everything I heard."

"Go ahead, I guess..." I sat back in relief, though I was still tense.

"Is that what you think about when you... you know?"

"Are you asking if I have sexual thoughts about Mom?" I was offended she'd ask me such a perverted, repulsive thing. "No, Katy, that's gross!"

"Good," my sister coughed, as uncomfortable as I was. "So, then, you're not, like, into incest, then, right...?"

"Of course not, you don't even have to ask, you already know I'm not like that."

"But you... yeah... to a picture of Mom," she reminded me.

"I didn't want to, I didn't ask for it, and I would never do anything like that ever. If you really did hear our entire conversation, you'd know I told her to never do that again."

"But you did it, it happened! I saw the proof in the laundry, so don't say you'd never do something you've already done."

"What's the point of talking about this, Katy? I feel this disgusting feeling inside from having such a weird, fucked up conversation with my sister."

"It was to our family photo album, yeah?" she studied me with her hazel eyes.

"Yeah..." I felt guilty.

"That was during my hormonal phase, so I wore that really skimpy bikini..." my sibling coughed again, crossing her legs, fidgeting. "What I'm trying to say, or what I'm trying to ask, I mean, is... Okay, I'll just say it, then, you didn't look at any of the pictures of me in there, did you?"

My jaw dropped. "No...!"

"Just Mom, right?" her expression was so perturbed and I couldn't even process how horrible that made me feel, knowing it was all directed towards me.

"I—I, uh..."

"I don't know what to think about that. You confuse me."


The Nasty Wife Pt. 01



"What?" I myself was confused.

"What you've pretty much just told me, more or less, is that a forty year old woman is more attractive than me. I mean, I'm not talking bad about Mom or anything, but... Let's just pretend we're not related, yeah? If it was between me in a skimpy bikini and her in a bulky, unflattering one-piece, you're choosing her, the older, middle-aged woman, over me, a girl in her prime? What, do you think I'm ugly or something?"

"No, it's just... you're my sister!"

"What color was the bathing suit I was wearing?"

"Excuse me?"

"Let's just face the facts here. You were masturbating, or being masturbated, or whatever, to pictures of Mom, and I also assume they had me in them as well. So, what color was the bikini I was wearing?"

"I... I don't know, I wasn't looking at you in that way."

"So, you were looking at pictures of two half-naked women while pleasuring yourself, or being pleasured, or whatever the hell you and Miranda were doing, and you're saying you weren't looking at me in a sexual way? What?"

"Katy, I'm not sexually attracted to you, or Mom, or anyone else in our family for that matter."

"What color was Mom's bathing suit?"

And I was horrified that the answer immediately came to mind; baby blue.

"Oh my god, I can't believe this," my sister gasped, her expression between offended and repulsed. "I can just look at you and see on your face that you know. God, I can't believe that you're attracted to Mom... That's so gross, ugh," she shuddered from thinking about it.

"I am not!"

"You know, people tell me all the time that I look just like her, even though I personally think my body shape is a bit different, and of course my hair is a lot blonder. So, why don't you find me attractive if you're attracted to her?"

"Because you're my sister, because we're related! Holy shit, Katy, it almost sounds like you want me to be."

"No, no, don't try to make me sound like the sicko here. You're the one who, you know, into her you-know-what's. It says a lot about you that you're an incestuous freak, but it says even more that you're into a woman twice your age instead of one but a few years younger."

"For one, I am not attracted to Mom—or to you either, just so we're clear on that—and, for two, I'm married to someone even closer to my age than you are."

"Yeah, maybe, but she is older than you, so that doesn't entirely excuse the fact you're obviously into older women."

"Katy," I was rubbing my temples, "what are we even talking about here? Come on, this is the most awkward thing ever, I wish we could just forget about it."

"Forget what, something like this?" she chuckled in a very unnerved sort of way. "How could I forget that my brother is into incest?"

"I think what you're actually forgetting, though, is that this is Miranda's doing and not mine."

My sister shut up for a second, thinking. "Yeah, I guess so," she rubbed her chin, and I realized I might be able to change her opinion of me back to whatever it was before. "But," that thought was immediately crushed, "you did enjoy it, so..."

"How would you know?"

Her nonverbal answer was simply to remove the pink wad from behind her back and hold them up. They dangled from her fingertips, spinning as they hung to reveal that my ejaculate had become a visible crust of white in the crotch. The sight made me dizzy.

"Why do you have those?" I choked.

"I was waiting on you to get up, so I could confront you about everything I heard. If you didn't give me a good explanation for why they're all ruined, I was going to give them to Mom, and I think I still might do just that."

"Katy, but—"

"You know how dad left before I was born?" she interrupted out of left field.

"Uh, yeah, what about it...?"

"In my psychology class, they were talking about the fixations children develop on their parents, specifically the ones of the opposite sex. College stuff, I wouldn't expect you to know anything about it... Anyway, it reminded me of you, and I realized that, since I never really had a father figure, I projected it all onto you instead."

Suddenly, I remembered when I'd a girlfriend in high school and she found out about it. Katy had gotten extremely jealous of her, to the point of acting out with a lot of angst and spite. It was innocent and cute back then, because we were both young, and I didn't yet realize how these two things were related, but—

"Do you know what I think happened? So, there's some sort of complex that is supposed to develop because the child realizes the parents are with each other and there's no hope for anything more than a paternal relationship to occur. However, that never happened for me, because I had these feelings for the next best male role model, and since I had no competition..."

"What in the fuck are you talking about?"

"Psychology, you numbskull," she grimaced at me, her inflection angry but sisterly.

"What? Because it sounds more like you're trying to say that you're attracted to me."

"Don't be gross," Katy scolded, "what I'm talking about is a perfectly natural bonding process."

"Then why are you telling me this?" I was hopelessly perplexed.

"Because—I was getting to that, you ass—I think I have a fixation on you."

"But what does that even mean?"

"I don't know, but if you don't help me, I am going to show Mom what you did to her panties and tell her about our conversation, except out of context so you look like a pervert."

"So, you're blackmailing me?"

Katy wiped a dirty blonde bang from her eyes as she paused. "Yes," she finally affirmed.

"But what are you even blackmailing me into doing? You totally lost me when you started talking about... whatever the hell."

"Into anything I want, that's what."

"But that doesn't tell me what you want!" I was getting frustrated.

My sister stood up, and as I looked up at her face from that angle, all I could see was my mother in her facial features. When I looked at her body, however, which was clothed with a tight, spaghetti-strapped top and a pair of blue jeans that ended just passed her kneecaps, I realized what she said before was correct. The width of her waist and her shoulders seemed pretty parallel, though she definitely took after our mom's shapeliness. Her breasts, which I diverted my eyes away from, were probably about a DD in measurement, but not that I was looking, and I could see a bra strap escaping from its place under the tiny straps of her shirt. It'd fallen from her shoulder blade and clung loosely to her bicep.

"It made me really upset that you think Mom's more attractive than I am. You have a wife, fair enough, even though that pisses me off, but if it's between me and Mom, I win. So, look at me, and then tell me I look good."

"But—"

"It's not sexual, you pervert; it's emotional. You're my role model, you're who I look up to, my father figure, and I want you to think I look good, which I do. I know I look good, so look at me, not at the floor like an asshole, and tell me what I already know."

"Katy, you're a very pretty girl, but—"

"Thank you, but what?"

"We're related..."

She walked over to me, and I sat back into the sofa, gripping firmly the armrest. "Yeah, and? That didn't stop you from... What's the word you and Miranda used? Oh, yeah, 'cum'. Blood relation didn't keep you from cumming in Mom's panties while looking at her half-naked body in our family photo album, now did it?"

"I regret what happened, even though it wasn't my fault—"

"Tell me how attractive I am, or I'll tell Mom."

"You're attractive, Katy... in a totally platonic way, I mean."

"Stop looking away when you say it. Look right at me, at my face or my body, and say it like you mean it."

I took a moment to scan her from her shoulder length haircut to the white socks she wore, of which had thin yellow, purple, and pink rings randomly on where her toes were. "Okay, Katy, I admit it. You're an attractive girl, so very pretty, so very beautiful." I made sure to look her dead in the eye, concluding with, "So, are you happy now?"

"Mm," my sister cooed with satisfaction, smiling dreamily. "But what's so attractive about me? You have to be specific."

"I have trouble understanding what you're asking of me..."

"Well..." She stepped forward, pointing as she said, "Is it my face? Or..." her hands clasped her DD breasts, "maybe it's my boobs." Turning around, she arched her back and showcased her ample backside, "Or maybe it's my butt..."

"I thought you said this wasn't sexual," I swallowed, looking away.

"It's not sexual, I told you. These are just the parts of a girl's body that men feel define beauty and desirability. So, which do you like the most?" she was facing me again.

"Your face," I coughed.

"And what do you think about when you see my face?"

"...I think about how pretty my sister is, though, of course, platonically," I knew I had to play into her game, but I also wanted to cover my tracks.

"That's sweet," she slowly climbed on top of me, straddling my lap, and I felt uncomfortable, contemplating escaping from beneath her, "but what about my face do you like? Is it my hazel eyes... my cute, stubby nose... my full, delectable lips?" My sister's face was getting way too close to mine as she spoke, until her forehead was practically touching mine. "My lips are kissable, that's what they call it. So, what do you think?"

"You have beautiful eyes, but I don't like the way they're looking at me right now."

"Are you sure?" she smacked her lips together, which were coated in silvery pink sparkles, glistening and enticing. "I'm wearing a lot of lip gloss, isn't it just... amazing?"

"You're breathing really heavily," I had no idea why I blurted that out; I was just so intimidated by her closeness.

"That's cute," she giggled, noticing how she left me stupefied. "Hey, I want you to kiss me."

"But you're my sister..."

"Let's role-play that we're not related, then," she whispered. "Pretend I'm your girl, but, when you kiss me, I want you to think and know that it's me you're kissing and no one else, not Mom or Miranda... just me."

"But it'd be incest, Katy," I pleaded, almost tempted into doing it.

"The only name you need to put on it is love. I don't think of you as my brother, I just feel what I feel for you. Don't think of me as your sister, and just kiss me already."

Our lips touched as if from magnetic attraction. I didn't anticipate actually kissing her, but it happened anyway. She immediately took the initiative and started sliding her lubricious lips upon mine, stealing kisses from me, each leading into another more passionate and intense than the previous. She latched onto my lower lip, leading my face forwards, bobbing her head towards me to kiss and kiss, tilting to taste me from every angle. I closed my eyes and forgot that it was even Katy, knowing only the sensation and the intimacy behind it.

"Hey," she nuzzled her forehead against my own, her eyes closed even though mine reopened, and spoke in a tone I'd never heard from her before, as it was romantic, "you've got your hands on my hips."

"I do," I was out of breath, for she'd physically stolen it.

"You left me..." her voice faltered, where she was so vulnerable, and I felt her petting the back of my head, her fingers running through my hair.

"What?"

"You got married and left me. You never call, you never visit, and you're with somebody else."

"I don't know what to say."

"Say that you love me—"

Suddenly, a car door was slammed outside. We both heard it, staring at each other, frightened. Katy dismounted, but leaned over to wipe my mouth off, which I imagined had become glittery from kissing her. Then, after I was presentable, she dashed down the hall. Paranoid, I kept wiping my mouth on my shirt, looking down to see if anything was coming off. The fact nothing showed up made me panic, either implying that the gloss was gone or that I wasn't removing it.

The front door opened and in walked my mother and my wife, whose presence nearly made me shake.

"Miranda and I," my mom announced, "had the most amazing day out today."

"Amazing, but exhausting," my spouse added, who was met with agreement. "Hey," she spoke directly to me, waving me in for a kiss as Mom carried some things she'd bought off to her room, "did you miss me?"

I had to do it, so I gave her a peck, of which caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Her mouth opened wide and her brown eyes stared down into my soul, knowing immediately my infidelity. Putting her hands on my cheeks, she held me still and kissed me as an inspection a few more times, to then sniff up and down my neck.

"You taste and smell like a girl," she brought me in close to whisper this, grasping my shoulder tightly, her nails like claws. "Who've you been with, huh?"

Miranda turned her attention from me when she saw that I suddenly looked behind her. In the threshold of the hallway lurked Katy, who watched us half pressed up against the wall, as if peeking from around the corner. She looked right at us, disheartened and yearning. My wife let go before walking up to her. Pausing before passing my sibling, she briefly leaned in, and I knew she was trying to get a whiff of the other female's scent. Upon realizing the perfume that emanated off my body was identical to hers, she excused herself by wordlessly staggering away. My sibling looked as if she wanted to say something, but I didn't give her a chance and followed Miranda to the bedroom.

Closing the door after entering, I stared at my wife, whose back was turned to me. Reluctantly approaching, I heard an almost inaudible vocalization, which I suspected might have been crying. However, the closer I got, and the louder the sound became, I realized it was laughter. I stopped, confused, and my suspicion was reaffirmed when she spun around and I saw her shaking her head, smiling wide.

"Your sister..." she clutched her stomach before putting a hand on my shoulder blade. "You really had me going there, Hun. I thought maybe it was a childhood sweetheart or something, but... Wow," her laughter died and she realized the implications, "how did that even happen?"

I could hear footsteps in the neighboring room, so I knew my sister was probably listening. "Uh, well," not knowing what to say, I stumbled over my own words.

"Did you fuck her?" she inquired, and I knew not the answer she anticipated.

"No," I hoped my honesty didn't come off as guilty denial.

"I'm going to guess by the shocked look on your face when you first saw me, that you were interrupted in the act. So, were you going to fuck her?"

"I don't know, we were just kissing," it felt so surreal to admit.

"Did she come onto you, or did you come onto her?"

"She onto me, I think..."

"Really?" she analyzed me, giving me that look which illustrated that she was deep in thought. "That's surprising. I'd have thought last night would've made you pursue her instead."

"Are you mad?" my fear was that she was, but I had to know for certain.

"Maybe I'd be if I wasn't so horny right now," she confessed, grinding her thighs briefly, "but am I upset that you experimented sexually with your sister, who you've known all of your life, who you will always have a connection to? Not really."

"What happens now?"

"Do you plan on fucking her?" was her blunt question.

"I don't know..."

"You better find out," Miranda glanced at her wristwatch, "because you've only got a few hours before we leave for home."

Wrapping my arms around my wife, I almost startled her with my suddenness. Putting my lips to her ear, I proceeded to whisper an explanation for the entire situation, about how Katy had feelings for me that I didn't quite understand and how she planned on blackmailing me with my mother's panties if I didn't surrender to her whims. My beloved silently listened, and, when I was finished, put her hand to the side of my face and gently stroked.

"Go get her, then we'll drive around, talk about it, and see what happens."

Although I didn't understand her request, I went to the door and slipped out into the hallway. Peering into my sister's room, she was gone, and I looked up to see her standing next to Mom, a pink wad behind her back. She was literally seconds from turning me in. My heart racing, I called out her name to get her attention. My voice was so loud that Miranda came to the doorway behind me, and my mother jolted in surprise.

"Inside voices, sweetie, inside voices," Mom scolded me, shaking her head in disapproval.

Katy was looking at me, and I could see her making the decision between going ahead and doing it or walking away in my direction.

"Katy," I repeated, though this time at an appropriate volume, yet loud enough for her to hear from across the hall, "do you remember how you said you wanted to spend more time together? Well, come on, then," I beckoned her.

My sister and mother exchanged a look and my pulse was pounding, unsure if this was the end or not. She stuffed her pocket with the evidence and hesitantly approached. As she got closer, I could see that she was visibly upset, and I wrapped my arm around her and ushered her, Miranda following at our heels, to the front door.

"Excuse me," our mom called out behind us, "but where are you going again?"

The wife spoke up for me, since I had no idea what was going on, apart from that I had just prevented a disaster, "Probably out to see a movie. We've got a bit of time left, so might as well make the most of it, right?"

Satisfied, my mother let us go with no further questions.



The Nasty Wife Pt. 02



"First things first," Miranda began after we all shuffled into the car, reaching her hand back to Katy, who'd been left with the backseat, "fork over the panties."

"What?" my sister stammered, taken slightly aghast by my wife's her assertion and lack of subtly.

Gesturing for her to hurry up, my beloved said, "The panties, as in the ones I know for a fact are in your pocket, the ones that he," she pointed in my direction, "left a disgusting mess inside of."

Although Katy had been able to take advantage of me, I realized Miranda intimidated her, despite the fact that my wife was scrawnier and a couple of inches shorter. My sibling dug out her blackmail material and handed them to the demanding woman. Satisfied, the keys were put in the ignition, the engine fired up, we backed out the driveway, and we were on our way, though none of us having a destination in mind yet.

"Alright, then," Miranda situated herself in the driver's seat, fidgeting with her hands firmly on the wheel, "now that we're on the road, no one around but us, I think we need to talk about things."

"What kind of things?" I asked, knowing what it regarded but was thrown off by the way she'd said it.

"Hun," my wife flashed me a warm smile, which was a little unsettling coming from her, though taking her eyes away from where they needed to be for only a split second, "we've already talked about it. I'd like to hear it from Katy now."

The girl in the backseat and I exchanged a look, and I could see that she was absolutely terrified.

"Whatever he told you," the dirty blonde panicked, "it'll never happen again, I promise..." She then quickly added, "I'm really sorry, Miranda."

"Hey, hey, hey now," the driver shook her head, smirking, somewhat surprised by Katy's reaction, "we're all on the same page here. I just want you to tell me what's going on."

"What's going on...?" my sister choked out.

"Why you were kissing my husband, and why, especially after last night of almost getting into it with me about how incest is wrong, he's now confused over whether or not he wants to put it in you."

"Oh my god...!" Katy slugged me on the bicep repeatedly, "That's disgusting, you pervert, you sicko, you freak!"

"Okay, okay, stop, Sis, stop..." I announced after I'd taken enough abuse. "Chill for a second; that hurt like hell."

"No," she delivered the hardest blow as a finale, "incest is wrong, incest is sickening. What we did wasn't incestuous, I already told you that." She folded her arms, angry, before finishing with, "Now you're making me regret it. I should have never had anything to do with you, you pervert brother sicko."

"Katy," the wife said after cracking up over these antics, which I didn't appreciate, as I was on the receiving end and wanted her to be on my side, "you're a university student, right? And you're what, majoring in psychology?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"That's called projection, dear."

After thinking about it for a second, obviously put in her place, the girl got hostile, "No, but—but... I'm not into incest, okay? Don't try to make it look like I'm some sort of deviant, some sort of disgusting... freak-o sister who wants to fuck her own brother."

"And that's denial."

Katy's eyes were transfixed upon me, and she looked like she wanted to turn it into an argument, but at the same time she was so visibly perplexed that she couldn't do it, a plethora of different emotions seizing her all at once.

"I'm not criticizing you," Miranda glanced up at my sibling through the rearview mirror, "it's just that brothers and sisters don't kiss... usually."

"But it's only a kiss," she retaliated, "it doesn't mean anything."

From the look on her face, I could see that it meant a lot to her, especially as I thought back on our conversation before we'd been caught.

"Maybe, but kissing can lead to sex."

"That's gross, I would never..." my sister's words trailed off as she looked at me, swallowing awkwardly, her voice breaking, growing quiet as she knew she wasn't telling the truth when she said, "have sex with my brother."

"Not even once, just to see what it was like?" I realized Miranda was screwing with her. "So, you've never been knuckle deep and you've never had the thought of your brother fucking you from behind, mashing your face into a pillow, pop into your head?"

Katy was absolutely mortified.

"Good god, Hun," I gasped to my borderline demented spouse, "what are you doing?"

"Sorry, sorry," the brunette shivered, "it's just that I haven't been fucked in four days."

"Oh god," the blonde's face was flustered and she looked faint, "I don't want to think about your sex life."

"You're right," the car came to a halt at a stop sign, the driver looking both ways before turning, saying as this happened, "that's a good question, whether or not I'm going to cuckquean you or whether or not you're going to cuckquean me."

"Cuckquean...?" Katy inquired, neither of us knowing what that meant.

"You're going to fuck my husband, what do you think it means?"

"Holy shit, Miranda, you're talking as if it's about to happen."

"Of course it's about to happen," she blinked behind her thick frames, "where the hell do you think we're going?"

"Not to the movies," I knew that for sure, at least.

After a pause, she announced, "We're going to a motel."

"We're going to a motel..." Katy was piecing it together, trying to come to terms with the situation we were in, "so I can fuck my brother...?"

"That's the plan."

"I think I'm going to be sick," she announced, clutching her stomach.

"Miranda, don't you think you're being forward?"

"You're going to fuck her," the fact she wasn't looking at me as she talked was dehumanizing, even though I knew it was to keep her eyes on the road, "maybe it wasn't going to be today, but maybe it'd have been our next visit, or the one after that. One day, someday, whenever, whatever happened between you two is destined to repeat itself, but you'd take it even farther, eventually leading to sex. So, if I know you're going to fuck her, at least I'm going to be there to watch when you do it."

"Please stop..." Katy was shaking.

"Stop what, giving you what you want? I know it's going to happen. Maybe after a bit of wine, and I'm not around for some reason, you finally come to terms with the fact you've always wanted to fuck his brains out. So you do it, either by seducing him and riding on top, or by stringing him along until he bends you over and—"

"Oh... god..." my sibling squeaked before clasping her hand over the crotch of her jeans, squeezing tight, going spasmodic for a few moments. "I-I..." she stuttered when her brief convulsions ceased, her voice lowered in shame, "I just came a little bit."

"Wow," the wife exclaimed, grinding her thighs, "that's fucking raunchy."

I was silent in the passenger's seat, my eyes going from staring at Katy to watching Miranda revel in her perversions. Going to say something, my relative beat me to it.

"Don't look at me," she shoved her hand in my face, forcing my gaze away from her direction, "I have to... Oh god, I can't help it, so please don't look."

There was some shuffling around, and I heard the jingling of a button undone, then a zipper unzip. After the rustling of clothes, I realized Katy had shoved her hand down her pants, and from the way she was panting, her fingers curling against my cheek, I knew she was touching herself. Although I couldn't glance back, the rearview mirror was overhead, and since she was sitting in the middle, I could easily just look up and plainly see what she was doing. Miranda was doing just that from time to time, her expression so excited, but I couldn't do it, despite the fact I had a curiosity brimming inside.

"Oh shit," the blonde swore as I heard a squelching, knowing that it had to be her vagina. "I'm so creamy. I can't believe it, what's wrong with me? Ugh, I'm so fucking wet, why is this happening? It feels so good, but it's so wrong, it's so nasty. Please, for the love of all that is holy," she was clawing the side of my face with her manicured nails, the tips of which painted with pink, intricate designs, "don't look at me when I fuck myself... I can't stop, it feels too good. Why do I think about you when I do this, why am I thinking about you while fingering my filthy hole? Ugh, I hate you, you son of a bitch. I hate you for making me finger-fuck my pussy so nasty like this. You're a bastard for being my number one fantasy. Looking at you while I do it is making me close already..." Her voice had long become breathy and higher in pitch, her every word moaned and not spoken. "No, please god, I can't stop! I'm about to cum; I'm about to cream myself thinking about my big brother...! Fuck me, I wish my fingers were your dick right now. And I can't believe I'm about to confess this, but the reason I heard everything that happened between you two, about Mom and everything, is because I was masturbating with my ear to the wall, hoping I could hear you fuck..."

This confession was what caused me to look into the mirror. Our eyes locked through the silvered glass, and my gaze was sympathetic, for she was helpless with her hand down her jeans, which I could see as a swift moving bulge as she furiously frigged. She shut up, biting her lip, though a few muffled vocalizations escaped anyhow, when she knew I was staring right at her. Then, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her face pink in the places it wasn't bright red, she went limp upon her side, and groaned, periodically shaking out her climax.

"Please tell me this is just a dream," Katy whimpered when it was over. "Please tell me that my brother didn't just watch me... as I... oh god..."

"It'll feel a lot better," Miranda informed her, "if you let go of the shame. Either that, or you start getting off to it."

I almost didn't notice that the vehicle had come to a stop. Out the front window, I could see an unblinking sign, for it wasn't that late in the evening yet to be dark and for the lights to be turned on, advertising a motel. We'd arrived.

"Just give in, sweetheart," my wife went on, turning off the engine before she pried the key from its slot, her voice strangely full of warmth and empathy. "Once you accept it, you won't feel so guilty anymore."

"But it's incest," the girl fought, sitting up in her seat. "I don't want to be some sort of weird... incest-whore... brother-fucker, or whatever this makes me."

"Well, you technically haven't fucked him yet."

"Miranda," I spoke to my estranged spouse, "don't you see this is tormenting her?"

"It's only tormenting her because she's yet to fulfill her fantasy."

"But what if it's just a fantasy, that she doesn't want the real thing?"

"If I hadn't have busted you two, if your mom and I hadn't have come home when we did, and you pounded her ass to pieces, like I know you both want, what do you think her reaction would've been instead? My being here is the only reason she feels the burning eyes of judgment. Without me, there's nothing stopping her, and there'd certainly be no shame, even if you had the wettest, nastiest sex fathomable. The presence of another person, a third party of any kind, is the only reason she feels guilt. If you hadn't have been caught, instead of worrying about the morality of the desire itself, you two would be focused on making sure no one found out about your incestuous affair. But, since it had already happened, you would find a way to keep it consistently happening, or at least so long as you could keep anyone else from discovering your relationship."

"I think you're reading too much into this," I told her.

"No," Katy had her head in her hands, "she's right. I think I probably would've had sex with you if they didn't stop me, and most of this horrible feeling I have comes from knowing I can't have you. Then, I feel even worse knowing you're someone else's." 

"You poor thing," whilst her words might sound mocking, I was pretty sure Miranda meant them.

"We're here..." my sibling noted aloud. "What happens now?"

"Well," the wife was grabbing her purse, unbuckling her seatbelt, "I am going to pay for a room. Since it took a while to get out here, and because I do have work tomorrow, we only have enough time for a single hour."

"Is this really happening?" the dirty blonde was zipping and buttoning her jeans, diverting her eyes from my direction as she did. "I mean, are we really going to go through with this?"

"You're making a big deal over nothing, Katy," Miranda was matter of fact. "It's just sex. But yes, we are, since the only reason we're at this seedy hellhole is because we need a private, anonymous place for you to sate your taboo urges. Otherwise, we'd be at a theater right now, catching some forgettable new release like a normal family would. Now," she popped her car door open and stepped out, "prepare yourself, because, after I pay for this, your brother is going to put a limp in your step."

When the door was slammed shut, my sibling and I watched the brunette casually walk toward the entrance to the front desk.

"What's wrong with her?" Katy asked me a second time.

"She's kinky, I guess," that was the only genuine rationalization I could conceive.

"I think Miranda's literally a demon," she whispered, her tone soon becoming humorous. "You know, like some sort of succubus that crawled out of hell to make strange, fucked up things happen on earth. Your wife is the devil, that's what I'm trying to say here," she continued to joke, though her voice partially filled with concern.

"You don't have to do this," I assured her.

"But she's right," she touched my face, "it'd happen eventually. And I want it, even though that must make me some kind of sicko. Her hazel eyes peered into mine, and she then, figuratively naked and vulnerable, asked, her voice expressive of the fear that I would deny her, "You want it, too... right?"

I didn't have a choice, but I couldn't tell her that, so I said, "Yeah, of course."

"Do you know what would make this easier for me?" one side of her bottom lip was bitten.

"What?"

"If you kissed me..."

It was eerie how Miranda had predicted her behavior so accurately. She hadn't been absent but for a few minutes, and already Katy was as if picking up from where we left off. There was a certain guilt that overtook me, where I felt responsible for my sibling, her emotions for me, and the circumstance we found ourselves therein. I leaned in and she went the rest of the way. Again I tasted what I would come to recognize as the taste of my sister, and felt the slick gloss which caused her lips to wetly glide across mine. She gripped the back of my neck and took advantage of this opportunity, not letting me escape from her needy embrace. Each kiss expressed not just enthusiasm, but desperation, where I realized she really had been waiting on me for years and years, now finally able to have me to some extent.

The driver's side door opened with a metallic clunk and our faces pulled quickly apart. My sibling suspiciously coughed and I was obviously wiping my mouth upon my sleeve. Fingernails tapping against the window, standing in the entryway with no intent on joining us inside, just trying to get our attention, my wife stared in at us, a surprising lack of jealousy in her facial expression and body language. She seemed more impatient, antsy even, than anything.

"Like I said, I paid for only an hour, so we should probably get to it."

I reluctantly scrambled out, and Katy, upon seeing my exit, followed my example. The car was locked and we trailed Miranda as she led us to the room. It was almost on the entirely opposite end from where we parked. We had to pass door after door before finally coming to the one whose number was synonymous with those stamped on our key, and it was promptly opened after some tedious fiddling. Standing out of the way of the threshold, my spouse waited for us to enter, and we did. With an automatic locking mechanism, no one would disturb us, and the blinds were shut to ensure no one would voyeur on what was to soon come.

The place was a little run down, though it was tidied enough. I was positive, however, that everything was obscenely stained in various bodily fluids if seen from under a black light. At least the bed was a massive king sized monster taking up practically the entire space of the main room, the only other commodities being a television across from it, and a jarred door to a small bathroom in the corner.

"Because I am technically sharing my husband with you," Miranda turned to my sibling once we settled in, "I think we have to lay some ground rules." She then looked to me, "And because I am technically allowing you to fuck another woman, granted that it is your sister... likewise." When Katy and I nodded in agreement, she continued with, her eyes still in my direction, "You're not turning me into a cuckquean, so, while I am going to watch, don't even think about it. This experience is just as mine as it is yours. And you," her attention was turned again to the blonde, "if you think that my man's dick being inside you makes him yours, you're dead wrong. You can touch, you can kiss, you can fuck, but you see this?" She held up her wedding ring, perfectly adorning her finger, saying, "This means he's mine. Now, do we understand each other?"

"Yes..." the girl's eyes were on the floor, almost like she was being punished.

"Hey, you're not in trouble, Katy dear. This is what you wanted, remember? Come here, I already tasted you on my husband's lips, now I want the real thing."

Hesitant, my sister approached, and her face was pulled to Miranda's. Her hand had clutched the back of her head, then, when they were in close proximity, she proceeded to run her fingers through the dirty blonde locks, the assertive gesture dissolving into a gentle one. Thick framed glasses messing up once she started kissing Katy, and I could see her own lips were smeared now with pink-silver sparkles, she pulled them off, and I took them to hold onto for her. Adrenaline coursed throughout my veins at the sight of the awkward, lesbian display before me, where my sibling didn't quite kiss back. Miranda didn't seem to care, and was pulling up on the coed's shirt. When Katy tugged it back down, the brunette became frustrated.

"If you're worried about whether or not this makes you gay, it doesn't," my sister was informed, her cheek kissed before her neck received the same treatment. "Just think of it like I am preparing you for him, and think about how great it'll be once he has you, once you have him."

These were the words which seduced Katy. Her top was pulled up, and I stared at her abdomen when it became bare. All that covered her torso was a bra now, and that was slowly unhooked, her bosom stained by hardly noticeable nude color lipstick. I looked away when her chest was revealed, but judging from the sounds I heard, I knew my wife had one of my sister's breasts in her mouth, suckling loudly and aggressively at her nipple. Whilst I was incredibly discomforted by my sibling losing more and more clothes, even being groped, fondled, and teased, I was ever so slightly jealous of the woman I married being with someone else, regardless of the fact it was in a contained environment, as well as with another person of the feminine sex.

"I should've worn darker lipstick," the lither of the two girls declared, "so then you could see my love decorating your luscious body. Maybe a dark red or a bright violet... It's a shame, because that would've been so hot."

Her jeans fell to the floor, and I glanced up to see Miranda's hand stuffed inside the coed's panties. I was a witness to the clockwise motions made as she pet her clit, and I felt an uneasiness that came from the taboo of watching my sister be touched in such a lewd, erotic manner, ashamed that I had to do it, that I had to chaperone the event, lest Katy be alone with the horny hell cat I was wedlock to. The wife was descending to her knees, slipping down that skimpy pair of underwear as she did. I couldn't stop quivering when I saw two, fat vaginal lips tightly clinging together, though parted almost like flower petals from having been titillated, beneath a perfectly shaven, smooth pubic region. Despite the puffy plumpness of her vulva, which only made me think about that photo of our mother in the one-piece, her labia wasn't stretched, revealing that she was fresh, nearly virginal. While she wasn't overweight by any means, I noted that my sister's femininities were very ample and fleshy, there being handfuls of her bust, thighs, and backside to grab at, in contrast to the more compact, firm body of who I was married to.




The Nasty Wife Pt. 02



"Mm, I've gotten you so wet," Miranda observed aloud when her fingertips became lubricious and glistening after sliding them against the threshold to Katy's cunny. "But I think you've got me even wetter."

"You aren't going to—"

The blonde's words dissipated into a rapturous sigh when the question she was about to ask was answered by my wife suckling upon the entirety of her vagina, where her lips pursed around the thing as if she'd bitten into a piece of succulent fruit. And I could hear the squelches—not only of lip smacking, but also of vaginal nectars being slurped—that reinforced such a description, since the very sound caused me to salivate, the slavering wetness of my sister audibly juicy. I'd a pounding headache, and I realized it was because of the surging erection I had, draining all the blood from my brain and filling it instead into my shaft. Thinking back on what Miranda had said before, about it being easier once the desires were accepted, I wondered if it was really so simple. Katy had long stepped away from her clothes as they formed a small pile on the floor, and she was naked from head to toe, a sight I couldn't turn away from, but I was too afraid to enjoy what it was I saw.

"Look at that ass, goddamn," Miranda exclaimed after turning the poor girl around, caressing her buttocks by taking up fistfuls of delectable flesh, kissing up from the back of her thigh. "You're really going to enjoy fucking this, Hun," she deviously chuckled, almost cackling. "But before I hand her off to you..."

"What are you—Oh god, that's not my—Fuck, no, good god—I can feel your tongue on the inside, you're not even licking, you're eating my—Ugh, but it's... it's... and that's my..." my sister had initially yelled out in shock once most of my wife's face disappeared into her butt, between those round cheeks, but then her voice diminished into coos and gasps, taking pleasure in having her asshole briefly tongued.

"Here, love," the brunette stood, embracing my sibling to passionately kiss, to share with her the flavors of where her mouth had just been.

"But you were just—"

She was cut off when their lips collided, and when taken by my spouse's perversion, she even kissed back, as if melting in her arms.

"Alright, Katy dear," Miranda gave her a love-tap on the left buttock after they parted, "get on the bed. I'd say you're ready enough, you delicious thing." Her eyes fell upon me, "And by the look of that thing in your trousers, you're definitely ready, too." Walking up to me, she pulled me close by the waist and undid my belt, inquiring as she did with such salaciousness in her tone, "Why are you so hard, huh? Is it me or her?"

"You," was my obligatory response, since she was, after all, my wife.

"But my clothes aren't even off yet," she teased. "I know it's her, babe, that's why we're here. I've had my fun, but I want to hear you admit it to me."

"Admit what?"

"How badly you want to fuck your own sister. Tell me how hard she makes your prick, how she tightens your balls with the urge to fuck and cum. Indulge my sick thoughts."

"I can't do it..."

"It's too late to turn back now, isn't it?" her voice was lowered. "You should've told me that before I tongue-fucked your sister's asshole, you dick."

"No," I clarified, "I meant that I can't say things like that to you, as in out of respect. I'll do this, but I can't talk that way to the person I love, I don't have a conscience for it."

"Or are you afraid of admitting that your sister is sexy, just like how you couldn't admit to noticing your mother's gracious measurements? And, identical to that, I will have to coax you into confessing."

"If it's really what you want to hear," I took a deep breath, my heart palpitating in a manner that felt irregular, both in speed and tempo, "then I want to fuck her, yeah? She's got an ass that I haven't stopped thinking about since I first felt it grinding against me this afternoon. And, since I've seen her cunt, I'm going out of my mind thinking about what it must feel like. My own sister, that's the part you want to hear about, isn't it? My own fucking sister, she's why I'm hard right now, she's why I'm so hard that I can't even think straight." I paused, afraid of what I'd just said. "I—"

Miranda had my cock in her hand, stroking it. The sudden sensation of something gripping and rubbing at the uppermost and head of my shaft made me speechless. My pants fell to my ankles, and they were abandoned, along with my boxer-briefs, as she led me—by the dick, no less—to where my sister lay.

"Should I be on my back or my stomach?" Katy asked, so uncertain of what was going on, just as I was, though for a different reason.

"Back, sweetheart, because what's the point of fucking your brother if you don't get to face him when you do it? If you're looking away, it could be anyone behind you. No, it'll be much better this way."

My shirt was pulled off and left on the floor, and I stared at the fully clothed woman afterwards. "Baby," I said, "are you sure it's okay?"

"Are you asking me if it's okay that you fuck someone else, or are you asking if it's morally okay for you to have sex with a member of your immediate family?"

"Both."

"After you fuck her, you're going to make me cum, so there's your first answer. As for the second..." she looked at the naked blonde waiting for us with her legs closed, unsure when to open them. "Do you consent to my husband, your brother, fucking you, Katy?"

Blushing, my sibling spread her thighs, and revealed to us her sopping pussy.

"There, she agrees to it, so I'd say it's perfectly fine."

I crawled onto the mattress, hesitant to approach the girl before me. Miranda, having had retrieved her glasses, returned them to her face after cleaning the lenses, sitting down on the edge of the bed to watch. Putting a hand on Katy's leg, I felt her exquisitely soft and frictionless skin. Her knee bent and I massaged her calf when I was given access to it, knowing that it was inevitable that I would have to do more than reluctantly touch her, but instead climb atop her awaiting body. The springs groaned and the headboard creaked as I advanced, stopping on my knees, now looming over my naked sister.

"Choral," I had remembered sometime earlier that day, "or that's what I think the color is called, at least."

"What?" my wife was dumbfounded.

"Oh my god," my sister covered her flustered face from laughing, "my bikini pictures!" That broke the ice, so I slid up between her legs, her bust pushing against my chest as I lay upon hers, where she playfully scolded me, "So you were looking at them, you pervert."

"You were practically naked, how could I not?"

"Shut up," she tapped my cheek with her palm, pretending to smack me, before resting her hand there, "I was going through my hormonal phase. ...And I think I was trying to get your attention."

We kissed, and I started grinding against her in such a way that it was only natural for me to direct myself up into her. I was met by the tightest, wettest walls compressed about my dick as I sunk into her depth. Katy sighed into my mouth, gripping my hair with one hand and holding onto my shoulder with the other. I thrust suddenly inward, needing to be as deep as she may take me, and this caused her to jolt, where her legs then locked around my waist. Her pussy was practically steaming, and I absorbed her body heat, basking in her radiant presence. Her breathing deepened, as did mine, but became shallow as I pumped into her, lubricious noises of friction audible with every movement in and out of her hole, since I was so enamored by her that I forgot to breathe, knowing only the ecstasy of her squeezing my prick with her perfect chamber.

"I can't believe this is happening," my lover moaned. "I've fingered myself thinking about this moment for so long, but now you're really inside me."

"Fuck, Katy, you're so tight that it feels like you're trying to suffocate me with your—Oh god, I just realized that I'm actually having sex with my sister."

"Sorry, I've only had sex once," she blushed, looking me right in the face as I repeatedly slapped up against her pelvis with my own, burying my erection into her tightness.

"No, it feels good. Shit, it's almost like you're a virgin or something."

"Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

"Katy, I... I—"

"I want you to call me 'Sis' while you fuck your little sister's pussy..."

"Oh Sis," I groaned, surrendering to the incestuous pleasure.

With that, I started ramming into her with a hard, sudden vehemence. It caused her to bite into her knuckle, that doing little to silence her tremulous vocalizations, which escaped from her precious mouth on the offbeat of my every lunge. When her hand fell from her face, she pulled one of the pillows close and started chewing on it, opening her eyes to stare at me in between intervals of descending into unbridled lust and erotic bliss. My groin relentlessly pounded up against my beloved sibling's, and I could feel her creamy pre-ejaculate building up about my circumference as a thicker lubricant than her usual wetness. Saturated in her juices, it was hard to fathom that the rapturous sensation I felt, so lewd and unyieldingly airtight, was because of my sister.

"Katy," Miranda sat right beside us now, wiping the sweating, panting girl's hair from her face, "after you cum, he's mine, okay? We don't have a lot of time."

"Don't worry, I'm close," she confessed, her chest heaving. "Fuck, it feels so good... Is this what you get on a regular basis?"

"Mm, yeah," my wife purred.

"I think I'm about to cum..." I panicked at the thought of what might happen.

"Well, you can't do it inside of her," the brunette stated the obvious.

"Why not?" Katy squeaked, who was digging her nails into my flesh, her vaginal muscles contracting because of her nearness to climax.

"Are you even on the pill?"

"No..." my sibling's voice cracked.

"Unless you want to get your sister pregnant, Hun," Miranda warned, "you have to pull out." Then, when she saw that I wasn't stopping, "Babe, you've having unprotected sex with own sister, you can't cum inside her. Pull out, as in right now!"

Katy's hands balled up into fists and she started squirming. Gasping at first, these noises soon became harsh groans, and at the peak of their intensity, a rush of nectars flooded my shaft as I dove into her deepness until her womb swallowed my every inch. I stopped there, letting her finish her orgasm with my hardness filling her deepest regions, terrified of continuing. Then, when she was motionless, I bucked until I no longer felt her compression choking my girth, and I was free. Looking to Miranda, her jaw was dropped and she stared at me in disbelief.

"Please tell me you didn't just..." she was clutching her chest, "cum inside her."

"I didn't."

"Are you sure? This is serious."

"Definitely, I thought I was going to, but I didn't."

"Babe," Miranda grabbed me by the shoulders, "are you absolutely, positively, one hundred percent positive?"

"I would know if I did, and I'm telling you that it didn't happen."

My wife looked at her watch. "If you're about to pop, it's going to take a bit for you to be able to fuck me afterward. Shit, we're really cutting it close. I think I should've eased up on the foreplay."

"What do we do?" my hormones were raging, I felt feverish, my balls ached, and I'd a pounding that permeated my brain in perfect synchronicity to the throbs in my prick.

"Cum," she demanded of me. "The longer you sit there with your dick in your hand, the less time we get to spend together until we get home."

Looking at Katy's nudity as she lay inert and exhausted, basking in her afterglow, I wanted to say something but no words came out.

"Where do you want to finish?" she insisted, trying to hurry me along. "Just try not to get any on her face, because we've got to be able to walk out of here afterwards."

Impatient, she didn't even let me decide. Taking my cock up in her hand, the soaked, pulsating thing, she stroked just beneath the glans, pointing the tip toward my sister. In less than half a minute, my throbs began to squeeze out strands of hot seed all over Katy's abdomen. It kept coming, and erupted in hard, sudden bursts, which were borderline painful, yet in the most gratifying of ways. When it was over, not a droplet more able to push its way out, where a single line of translucent sperm connected the pool on my sibling's stomach to the head of my fading erection, I started to contemplate what had happened. My immediate thought was whether or not I had any regrets.

"Wow, he came so much," the blonde exclaimed. "It's so warm and sticky..."

"We have less than ten minutes," Miranda sat back in defeat, eyeing her timepiece. "It's going to take more than ten minutes to get him hard again, let alone get me off."

"Why not just pay for another hour and leave early?" was my naïve question.

"I'm not spending our emergency money, or charging our credit cards, just to get a cheap nut in a motel room. It's been four days, but it hasn't been that long."

"You know we're near the state park, right?" my sibling made an ambiguous implication.

"What's your point?"

"There's a route people go up to have sex, it happens all the time."

"A route?" the brunette guffawed. "Are you literally suggesting public sex in a park right now?"

"No, you drive up it and then it's almost like you're in the woods, so there's no people around."

"How do you know this again?" I joined in on the conversation.

There was an awkward pause before she responded with, "...It's where I lost my virginity."

"Fine," my irritated spouse announced after having thought it over, "but, because of this inconvenience, you owe me."

"What do you mean by 'owe'?" Katy was as unsettled as I.

"Just keep still," Miranda instructed, going over to my sister's clothe pile, fetching her panties. She returned, using them to swab up the cloudy, murky goop on the blonde's naval. "These are mine now," she declared after having collected up my mess with them, not a dribble wasted, putting them to her nose to inhale the musk of my semen. "Fuck," she swore, "and they smell like your cunt, too. I forgot that you came in them earlier, so thanks for that."

Katy and I exchanged an awkward look before she replied, not taking her confused eyes off me, as if looking to me for answers, "You're welcome...?"



The Nasty Wife Pt. 03



"Turn here?" the tires had already shuffled through the gravel in that direction, but my wife was hesitant to put her foot to the gas pedal. "Are you sure? There isn't even a sign."

"Why would there be a sign?" Katy retorted bitchily, both women frustrated as they stared ahead at the back road illuminated by our vehicle's bright, white headlights, sitting in the passenger's seat to help with directions. "It's a place where people go to fuck, so it's not like 'turn here to get your nut' with a big arrow would—"

"Fine, but if we get lost—"

"We're not lost. I know exactly where we are. I told you, I've been here before."

Without saying anything, Miranda drove forward, and with some more turning of the wheel, we were traveling up at a slight incline. Dark trees loomed above from both sides, and it was an unsettling sight, but it was to be expected. After a few minutes of driving the straight path, the road led to a dead end, a round clearing large enough to turn around. The only place we could go from there would be back from whence we came, unless we, for whatever reason, wanted to go into the surrounding woods.

"We're here," my sister announced.

"Yeah, finally," my beloved grumbled. "And now it's late as hell, too, so tomorrow is going to be fun."

"Let's just focus on why we're here and get it over with," Katy bit her lip in anticipation.

Unhooking her seatbelt, the wife said, "Stay in the front, Katy, since there will be more room for us in the backseat."

With that, she awkwardly climbed back to me, and I'd to help her do so. She was soon sitting in my lap, and I could see my wife's eyes glisten with the reflection of the faintest light before she reached overhead and provided more for us to see with. Then, she leaned briefly into the driver's seat, turned the key before plucking it from the ignition, and the headlights went out. Outside the vehicle was suddenly an all-encompassing abyss of blackness. However, we could all see each other with perfect clarity, my sibling eyeing us two with a bit of jealousy, as the brunette was practically mounted upon my crotch.

"I think I am going to enjoy this," Miranda noted as she laid kisses up and down my neck.

"Babe," I cooed.

"Mm, yes...?"

"You know there's another person here, right?" I looked to the blonde who frequently blinked and tried fruitlessly to divert her eyes.

"What, are you still hot for Sis? But I thought it was my turn," she pretended to pout.

"But she's watching us."

"Yeah, and?" she grated her pelvis into mine, and I was hardening from the sensation, even if it was between our clothes. "So I can watch you with another woman, but another woman can't watch us?"

"If the point was just so you two could fuck," Katy joined in, "why couldn't you have just waited until you got home? What's the use of me being here if I'm not doing anything?"

"I thought we agreed that we'd switch?" Miranda retorted. "Granted, it took nearly a thirty minute detour, but it's still what we agreed upon."

"I'm not horny anymore," my sister informed us, "so I'm not getting anything from this."

"You already got yours," the wife stopped dry humping me. "I've been going-out-of-my-mind-horny for the last four days. He's my husband, and I physically need to get off right now."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"You admitted before that you tried touching yourself to us having sex. So... touch yourself."

"I can't, I'm not wet enough."

Miranda turned around and started undoing her pants, commanding, "Come here."

"What?" Katy nervously laughed, flashing me a look of confusion.

"If you're not going to shut the fuck up," she pulled the garment from under her socked feet, having kicked her shoes off, and was now bottomless, save for her thong, "then I'm going to put your mouth to use."

"But I don't..." my sister was so intimidated, shifting her weight in her seat, "go that way."

"I ate you out, so why can't you repay the favor? What, it's gay to give but not to receive?"

"I—"

"I said come here, you fucking bitch," the brunette seized the blonde by the back of the head and tried forcing her face near her crotch as she pulled her panties to the side, revealing herself to the other female.

"Holy fuck, Miranda," I grabbed her arm, "what are you doing? What's gotten into you?"

"Hun," she smiled at me, my sibling clutching both the passenger and driver's seats in order to resist being brought to the cunt on display for her, "your sister has been running her mouth, so I am showing her where it belongs."

"You're a crazy bitch!" the flustered girl grunted, trying to pull away. "Let go of me, you psycho...!"

"I'll tell your mother if you don't eat me out," the wife threatened.

"What?" my sibling and I asked in unison.

"I've got your panties with a creamy stain inside them still crusting as we speak. You left with them on, now they're drenched in cum, but not just any cum, your brother's. How do you think that looks, huh, sweetheart? It looks like you're an incest-whore brother-fucker, so if you don't tongue my fuck-hole, I'm telling Mommy."

"Miranda," I said firmly in an attempt to assert my dominance, "you're not doing that. And let go already, can't you see you're hurting her?"

"It's okay for her to blackmail you, but not for us to blackmail her? You have a lot of double standards, Hun."

"There's no 'us' here. I'm not consenting to what you're doing right now."

"You're right," she looked me in the eye, cruel her voice and stare, "because I've got dirt on you, too. I can take that other pair of soiled panties and say I caught you masturbating into them to pictures of your own mother. How would you like that, motherfucker?"

I thought about it for a moment before I inevitably took a side. "Do it, Katy."

But Miranda released her before she could say or do anything. After an excruciating pause, she asked my sister, "Are you wet?"

"What?"

"Your pussy, Katy dear, is it all nice and dripping yet?"

"I—I," she looked absolutely ashamed of herself, blushing.

"Will you touch yourself like a good girl now? You're all wet, so you don't have any more excuses not to."

"What the hell is happening right now?" I expressed my confusion.

"Come on, baby," Miranda was suddenly maternal and sweet, "take it out for me and play with it."

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. A humiliated Katy unbuttoned her jeans and started taking them off. They were discarded to the floorboards, and she'd her hand between her legs, cupped over her vulva to conceal herself.

"It's alright, Katy dear, just sit in the middle there—don't worry about the stuff in the way—and spread for us. That's it," the deviant cooed when the girl obeyed her commands, though she was still covering her vagina, "but show me what you've got there, sweetie. Ah, that's it, that beautiful, pink, little pussy. Don't be afraid to touch it now."

"Katy," I stammered, though unsure what to say afterwards, since she didn't look at me, her hair over her face as she held her forehead and looked down in shame.

"Does it feel good to tease your clit like that, baby?"

"Yes," she sighed, her voice wavering and breathy.

"What are you thinking about when you do it?"

She didn't answer, so my wife inquired again.

The first time she confessed, it was inaudible, so the question was asked a third time, to be responded with by a choked, "...You."

"What about me, huh, Katy dear?" her voice was so soft and gentle that it was malignant.

"Your—your..." her blonde head was laid against one of the seats and she started masturbating harder.

"My cunt, is that what you're touching your sweet little pussy to?"

"...Yes," she partially moaned and partially sniveled.

"Oh my god, Miranda," I exclaimed, shaking.

"What?" she put her hand on my crotch, squeezing right where my shaft was. "Don't worry, love, you'll get your turn in a moment. Baby," she returned her attention to my sister as she laid turning intently at the top of her flustered red vulva, "does Katy want to eat Miranda's cunt?" Her words were so dehumanizing.

"I don't know," she stuttered, her voice low.

"Because I'll let you eat it if you really want to," she parted her pussy lips to put it on display for her.

"But it's... gay."

"Katy dear doesn't want to be Miranda's little gay girl?"

"Stop doing this to me," the dirty blonde was rubbing at herself so hard that it had to have hurt. "It feels too good, and you're confusing me..."

"Miranda, she said stop, now let's just go."

"But she likes it."

I honestly couldn't tell if she really did or not.

"It's okay if my little baby-Kate is a gay girl," my estranged spouse went on, her voice both salacious and as if she were talking to a child. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I'm about to cum," the college coed yelped. "Stop, you're going to make me bust."

"Then go as hard and as fast as you can, and tell me the moment you're about to do it."

After not even ten seconds, the sweaty, panting thing was repeating, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming...!"

Immediately, Miranda seized her wrists, keeping her from frigging any further. Instinctively, her thighs started grinding madly together, and she spasmodically thrashed about. My sister's body squirmed and turned, where her libido demanded she pleasure herself that last bit she needed whilst she climaxed, but she was denied the ability to.

"Oh... god..." she groaned in agony. "I came, but... but..."

But her orgasm was ruined, and the lubricity that dribbled down her thighs was weak, especially in comparison to what would've otherwise been.

"And you're horny, and you still feel like you've got to cum, but you're so sensitive that," Miranda reached down and tickled Katy's stingy vulva.

"Stop, stop! Oh fuck, no, it hurts, it hurts!"

"What did you just do to her?" I was afraid to know.

"I showed her the ultimate tease, and now, when she can touch herself again, it'll feel even better."

"Ugh, my stomach," my sibling whined, clutching her abdomen. "Please stop now, I can't take any more."

"But baby-Kate, this is when the real fun begins."

"No..."

"Yes, come on, you know you want it."

"Stop... I need it," her tone was of humiliation and self-denial.

"What does my Katy dear need, sweetheart?"

"I don't even know," she swooned and groaned, her hands at her crimson face.

"Do you want Miranda to decide for you?" my wife was petting the inert coed's leg.

"Stop, you're giving me bad thoughts... Ugh, please, do it, tell me what I need. I have to know."

"You want to sink your lips and tongue into a nice, hot, wet cunt."

"But I can't," she tossed and writhed.

"You can, sweetie. Why can't you? What's stopping you, huh?"

"It's gay, Miranda, and I don't want to be gay...!"

"Stop—"

I'd gone to intervene, but the debauchee gripped tight my prick and started rubbing it through the material of my pants, not taking her attention from my sibling. "But baby-Kate is Miranda's little gay girl, remember? Come on, say it."

"Oh god, no... No, I'm not—I'm not... I'm your little gay girl, ugh. Why is this happening to me?"

"Say it right, sweetheart. Come on, you can do it. You know you want to."

"I'm—I... Baby-Kate is Miranda's little gay girl..."

"And what does Miranda's little gay girl want?"

"Miranda's little gay girl wants to eat Miranda's cunt... Please, let your Katie dear do it. You're driving me mad! ...And I think I'm dying, I think you're killing me."

"Come here and do it, then."

The reluctant female slowly approached.

"Katy, you don't have to do this," I said to her, naively hoping it'd put an end to everything.

My sibling looked up at my spouse with pleading eyes, but advanced further yet. She put her face between her thighs, inches from her vagina, and stared at it, terrified and perplexed. I could see that her eyes were watering.

"Just smell it first," the woman on my lap suggested, "and if you don't want to eat it after that, then you don't have to."

After an audible sniff, Katy swooned and rested her head against Miranda's inner thigh. Her eyelids were fluttering and her entire body went lifeless. I swore that I even saw a bit of drool dribble from her open mouth.

"That's the stink of four days of abstinence, four nights of playing with my husband's dick without even so much as getting to touch myself, and sweating at the mall all afternoon with your mom. Oh, yeah, and watching you get your sweet snatch fucked in a seedy hotel by your own brother like the familial slut you are. So, what do you think, does my little lesbo want to give it a taste?"

There was no response.

"Katy?" Miranda grabbed the girl's face, and we both saw that her eyes were closed. "Hey," she shook her, "stop pretending, this isn't going to get you out of what you know is going to happen."

I shoved my wife over into the seat next to me, took my motionless sibling by the shoulders, and started to shake her body, hard enough to bring her back to life but not enough to potentially injure her. "Katy," I said as I did this, "hey, wake up! Please, open your eyes. You're starting to scare me here, don't do this."

A groan came from her lips, then her eyelids weakly unclosed and she looked up at me. "I'm sorry," she groggily apologized, "I think I might've just fainted."

"You scared the hell of me, Sis..."

"My brain hurts, and I think I may have..." she blushed, covering her face with her hand. "I think I wet myself."

Investigating between her legs, I saw an ivory cream running down her thighs, seeping from her cunny. Since I could see some white specks and dark spots on the carpet below, I realized she hadn't just came, she squirted. When my glance was again upon Katy, I could see that she was dizzy.

"Wow," Miranda gasped, having just come to the same conclusion I did, "you just creamed everywhere from smelling my cunt. And," she guffawed, "you either liked what you smelled a little too much, or you came so hard that you passed out."

"Can we please leave now?" my sibling closed her legs, sat back in the floor, and hugged her knees.

"We leave when I finally get my nut," was the wife's response.

Frustrated, I asked her, "Don't you think it's been enough?"

"Maybe," she responded, "but I'm not done yet."

"What's it going to take?" I wanted this to be behind us already.

"I would've settled with nutting all over your sister's face, but it looks like I'm too much for her to handle."

"Let's just go home," Katy suggested, shivering.

"Not yet. I still haven't got mine."

"Then I'm walking."

Miranda swiped her jeans from the blonde's reach and sat on them. "Go ahead, then, but you're doing it without pants."

I saw that she, at least for a moment, considered it, weighing her options. "If I let you," my sibling shuddered, her voice cracking, "you know... all over my face, then you'll take me home?"

"I'll take you to goddamn never-ever-land if that's what you want."

"Do you promise?" her inflection was of helplessness.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

Miranda spread her thighs, and the coed gravitated towards the presented vulva. She was so hesitant that my wife had to manually bring her in, yet the hesitance dissipated at once the moment their lips, as in Katy's and then Miranda's labia, touched. The squelching was so loud that I'd to cough and look away.

"Afraid of being gay my ass," vocalized in absolute ecstasy the brunette. "You suck pussy like you were born to. Ah, fuck...! No, get away from my clit; I can take care of that. Wrap your lips around my fuck and tongue it. Yeah, that's it, just like that, except do it—oh fuck, you're a little animal. Shit, it's like you're trying to lick to my ovaries or something. Mm, you really are my little gay girl, aren't you? You're my own personal dyke-whore, you—"

A familiar ringtone disrupted the event. As I pulled my cell from my pocket, I already recognized it as the one I'd set to play for when Mom called. The caller id verified it, and I started to panic. However, Katy wouldn't stop, and my stuporous wife ordered me to answer it. I flipped the device open and put it to my ear, my hand going nervously through my hair.

"Uh, hello...?" I choked.

"Where in god's name are you?" my mother scolded from the other end of the phone line. "I mean, yeah, you're both all grown up, but you could've called."

"Sorry, Mom, it was a double feature."

"Where's Katy? Put your sister on, I want to talk to her."

Looking at the ravenous blonde tongue-fucking my spouse until she was squirming and swooning, I said, "She's uh... kind of busy at the moment."

"Busy? What do you mean by 'busy'?"

"Well, we're on our way home right now, but she's asleep in the backseat. Yeah, couldn't keep her eyes open for the third act of the second movie, so she conked out like a light as soon as we were on the road."

"Sleeping? But it's not that late."

"I'm looking at her right now, Mom. She's asleep like an angel on a cloud in heaven," I lied, even though she was actually feasting on cunt like a demon from hell.

"Then put Miranda on," she demanded after sighing.

"But she's driving," my heart was racing out of my chest at the thought of my mother speaking to my wife as she struggled to contain herself, especially since it was my sibling who sent her into her erotic frenzy.

"It'll only take a minute, Hun. Just let me talk to her."

I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat and handed the phone over.

"Yeah, Gabrielle?" the brunette answered through a bitten lip. "Oh, sorry, right, I know you said to call you Gaby. So, uh, what's up? Katy? Yeah, I can see her in the rearview mirror now. Not even newborns slumber as peacefully. What's that? Oh, yeah... yeah," her words had been normal thus far, but then she softly moaned, "mm, yeah," before her voice returned to its inconspicuous state. "What's that, why am I out of breath? Well, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Gaby, but I'm a chain smoker, so you could only imagine my lungpower. Yeah, it's nasty alright. Ah, yeah, you're definitely right, I can't think of anything so filthy. I've been trying to quit, but it feels too good to stop. It's like once you start, there's no stopping it. Then it gets inside you, fills you up, and it's the most disgusting thing in the world, but it's addictive. Yeah, I agree with you, women who smoke are dirty, but I've tried the patches, they just don't have that..." she was on the verge of groaning, but saved herself, though she faltered still, finishing her sentence with, "oomph, you know what I mean? Anyway, I should really focus on the road. We're about to turn off the freeway and I don't want to miss the exit. Alright, then, Gaby, see you in a few, bye-bye."

My cell was closed and she put it into my lap before collapsing back into the seat.

"Fuck...!" Miranda practically yelled in a tone uninhibitedly lascivious. "Mm," she was quieter now, but still vocally whorish, "I came so close to talking smutty to your mom... Sweet father of fuck, I think that would've been the hottest thing ever."

I made sure the call had ended, then said, "Actually, I think you did smut-talk her a bit."

"Shut up," she called out, "I'm about to pop all over your sister's face. Get ready for it, you little lesbo bitch, I'm—I'm—I... Oh my..." she melted where she lay. "I just came."

Katy pulled her face away, and I could see she'd a mouthful of ejaculate, the rest of it leaving her saturated in glistening lubricity.

"What do I do with it?" she garbled and gargled, pointing to her mouth frantically.

"Swallow."

After a short duration more of panic, she gulped. Then, she started leisurely wiping her dripping chin, contemplating what she'd just done. I watched and I was secretly throbbing, the adrenaline mixed with the taboo covetousness intensifying the moment.




The Nasty Wife Pt. 03



"Here," Miranda returned the girl's jeans to her. "I guess a deal is a deal."

As my sister began to redress, we looked awkwardly at one another, and, as I realized it was over, I suddenly didn't want it to be. The wife had to stand up, or at least as much as the cramped space in our car would allow, while putting her pants back on, and I could see her firm ass cheeks begging to be groped. I didn't do it, however, but instead climbed into the passenger's seat as Miranda situated herself as the driver.

"I hope you know how to get out of here," the brunette shot at the blonde, turning the key in the ignition before backing up to get some room to turn the vehicle around, "because I can remember fuck all about where we are."

"Uh, yeah, you just..." and then Katy proceeded giving her directions like nothing had happened.



The Nasty Wife Pt. 04



When we pulled into the driveway, none of us spoke. The headlights died and the entrance to the garage became darkness. With the rattling of keys, the engine was next to cease, and the silence thereafter was deafening.

"It's over," I thought aloud.

"Yeah," the barely visible figure, my sister, added from the backseat. "Going back to real life is going to be... weird."

"What are you two going on about?"

"It's like you... changed me," Katy confessed, "but now you're leaving, and I'm going to wake up tomorrow, go to class, and come back home to Mom like none of this even happened."

"For someone so eager to call it quits," Miranda noted, "you're talking like you're let down now that you've gotten what you wanted."

"It's not the same, though. I'm not the same..."

"Maybe we'll visit more often?" Miranda looked to me, and a stray moonbeam caused her glasses to shine.

"Yeah, of course," I agreed. "It's not like we're never seeing each other again."

"But that's not..." her words drifted into confused contemplation.

"It's not what?" I tried to get her to say.

"You're going away again, and now I've got an even bigger hole in my heart than before because of it. Visits are just visits, and even if you come around more often, it's not the same."

"What's she talking about?" my wife interrogated me.

"I know you have to go," Katy sniveled, "but I don't want you to leave me."

"I, uh..." I'd no idea what to say.

"You sound like we're breaking up with you," Miranda joked, though I could hear in her inflection that she was unnerved by the girl's emotiveness.

"I'm just so confused..." my sister proceeded to exclaim. "About you, about myself, and I don't know what I'm going to do."

My spouse, unable to handle emotions, froze up and couldn't say anything. I was in a similar position, though I knew I had to at least try to speak. "It'll be okay, Katy," I said. "Things can go back to the way they were now—"

"But I don't want them to go back to the way they were before, don't you see that? I... I think I love you."

The door on the driver's side opened and Miranda stepped out, closing it behind her with somewhat of a slam, though not angrily so. We watched as she lingered briefly before treading the walkway to the porch and taking a seat upon the swinging bench which hung there, waiting for us to finish our conversation.

"Is she mad at me?" my sibling whimpered.

"I don't know," I admitted. "She's not good at stuff like this."

"Do I chase after her?"

"What—"

"I just said 'I love you' and she left. Doesn't she see what she's done to me, or what she's doing to me? Shit, I'm crying."

"Katy, who is the 'you' you're talking about?"

"I...I don't know."

"It's not me, is it?" the implications were overwhelming.

"It is, but... It's just... Ugh," she groaned, frustrated and upset.

"It's just," I picked up where she left off, "you meant her too, didn't you?"

"She made me feel something I've never felt before, and now I'm afraid I'll never feel it again."

"Are you talking about like... attraction to other girls, or?"

"No, you idiot," she went to slug me but hit the seat instead, "I meant when she was talking to me like..."

"Like what, when she was calling you a lesbian and a dyke?"

"She was so sweet and warm to me, and it made me feel so weak, like my heart was melting and I'd lights in my chest and butterflies in my stomach..."

"Katy, she was trying to sexually confuse you. Don't you see that she was just playing with you because it excited her?"

"No—but—she was... and I..."

"Is this like Stockholm syndrome or something, where she made you do stuff against your will—"

"It wasn't against my will; I just didn't know I wanted it until she said it."

"Whatever you think it was, Katy," I tried to get her mind straight, "it's not. It was like roleplaying, just... crazier."

"I want to hear her say it, then."

"What—"

"Go get her," the sobbing creature demanded. "I don't believe you; I want to hear it from her."

My door popped open and I stood without it shutting, waving to get Miranda's attention, beckoning her near. The swing was left swaying after her departure, and she descended the wooden steps before wandering over. She'd a hand in her pocket, the other adjusting her glasses.

"You two done yet?" was her inquiry as she approached.

"Uh, I think Katy wants to talk to you."

The window was rolled down and my wife rested her arms there as she greeted the girl. "Yeah—"

She was interrupted and I couldn't immediately see why. I ducked back into the car and my heart pounded when I saw in the dim light my sister having seized her, their lips sliding together. The blonde was desperately kissing her, an arm locked around her torso and the hand of the other gripping the side of her face. I nearly staggered from the sight, and I couldn't tell if Miranda returned the gesture or not, because all I could see was her face, more so illuminated than Katy's, being intimately embraced. Then, the faint smacking of lips ended, and they split.

"Why did you do that?" the brunette was flabbergasted, thick frames sideways and lopsided.

"It was the only way for me to tell you everything I had to say at once."

"But it was so... gay."

"...I'm your little gay girl, remember?"

"Katy, it was just lust," I could hear the sound of my sibling's heart being broken. "I say some filthy things when I'm turned on, and I'm sorry," Miranda continued before pausing. "...I'm married to your brother."

The wife had to back away when the door opened. My sister stepped out, wiping her eyes, and it was shut, like mine was moments afterwards. She took a few wobbly steps, found her balance, adjusted her clothes, and headed for the front door, purse slung over her shoulder. She retrieved a key and found her way inside, where I, by this time, had circled around the vehicle to meet with Miranda. She was silently touching her lips.

She turned and started chasing after the girl, I following her in the exact same way.

"You look like you've been crying, dear," was what we entered to hear my mother empathetically exclaim, holding onto Katy by the shoulders. "And your mascara, it's running down your face. What happened?"

"It was just a sad movie, Mom."

"Aw, sweetheart... Here, let me get that for you." She looked right at me as she dabbed the fresh tears from her daughter's face. "But baby," she gasped when her eyes fell upon the shivering thing in her nearness, "you're still crying."

"They didn't get together in the end," her snivels became sobs and she buried her head in our mother's bosom.

After tending to Katy, who was consoled enough to take a seat at the kitchen table, face down and nestled in her arms, Mom motioned for me to join her in the hallway. I looked at Miranda, who gave me a terrified look, and then, realizing I was panicking probably even harder than she, followed the woman I feared most at that moment.

"What did you do to her?" she was grave. "You obviously didn't take her to see a movie. What, did you go out drinking and something happened?"

"No, I—"

"Let me smell your breath," my mother pulled me close, held my mouth open, and sniffed before letting me go. "Okay, then, so you're not drunk. Is she?"

"No, ma'am..."

"Then what'd you do to her, huh? Why's she crying like that?"

"It wasn't me," I stammered, unsure if that was the truth or not, though thinking it to be at the time.

"Then who was it? Tell me what happened... now."

When I glanced back to glimpse my wife, she was gone. I could hear murmuring, so I assumed she'd gone to comfort Katy. With no choice, trying desperately to think of a single lie, I had to face those piercing eyes, of which demanded answers to questions I dreaded.

"It's not my right to tell you her business," I grew confident as I realized how saying something so atrocious made it sound almost genuine, "but she just had a nasty breakup. It happened when we were in the driveway, no less."

"I don't believe you," she saw right through me. "Tell me, then, what story am I going to hear if I ask her, huh?"

With that, she passed me, and I trailed her to the kitchen, where Miranda sat across from Katy.

"What happened?" now the question was posed to who would probably answer it truthfully.

My wife grabbed the girl's hand and squeezed, and it caused the distraught blonde to verbally stagger. "I—I, uh..." She looked to me and I was begging her please behind Mom's back. "I—"

Cutting her off, I was hoping she'd affirm my fiction. "I told you, Mom, she just had a bad breakup. Can't you just leave her alone?"

"I wasn't asking you," the middle-aged woman didn't even look in my direction as she scolded me, knowing my antics for what they were.

"Katy, don't you think our house is closer to your campus?" my deviant spouse chimed in.

"What?" my crying sibling sniveled.

"You have to catch the bus to get there, don't you? Well, I was just thinking, since we live closer, and because I pass it every day on my way to work, wouldn't it be so much easier if you stayed with us? We could carpool. I mean, I'm sure there are times when your mom wishes she had a little privacy. So, you wouldn't want to stay over, if even for a little while?"

"I could pack a suitcase..."

"It's settled, then," the brunette triumphantly announced. "Well, unless anyone else has any objections?" she looked to my mother and me.

"I mean, it's sudden," I choked out, reluctant though aware this was the solution to our immediate problem, "but I know we've been saying all night how it sucks that we never get to see each other that often, so... Would it be cool if Kate stayed with us for a while, Mom?"

The sudden change in conversation perplexed the oblivious woman who'd almost gotten to the bottom of our terrible deeds. "Hang on a second now—"

"I don't need my mother's permission," my sister dried her tears and her face was lit up. "I'll go get a few things and then..." she stood up and was already hurrying to her room.

"Hey, I want some answers, young lady," Mom was at her heel, though I let the two go, knowing we'd successfully converted Katy to our side.

"Holy fuck," I sighed in relief when my wife and I were alone in the kitchen, clutching my chest. "That took twenty-five off my life."

"Almost getting caught gave me such a rush," Miranda groaned. "It's like we're murderers or something on the brink of getting found out."

"That's exactly what it felt like, well said."

"I feel invincible," she went on, her voice lowered but firm. "I bet she wouldn't even catch us if you fucked me here and now."

"No," I laughed, feeling unnerved again already, "we'd definitely get caught if we tried something like that."

"You're right, it's too extreme. Maybe if I jerk you off, I can do it fast enough that you cum before they return."

"There is no way in sweet merciful fuck, Miranda. That's like getting out of the frying pan just so you can throw yourself into the fires of hell."

"What do you propose, then? You could try fingering me, but you'd cum faster than I would, no offense, so let's go for that instead."

"How long do you think they'll be gone?" I asked rhetorically. "They're not even that far away, and you can almost see into the kitchen from the hallway anyway. It's too risky."

"That's why it's hot, Hun," she informed me, grinding her thighs. "And she's a girl, so you know it's going to take forever. She's got to get her makeup, her clothes, her toiletries, and anything else she decides she might need. We could be sitting here for twenty minutes."

"She nearly told on us," I reminded my rutting wife. "We were this close from everything crashing down around our heads."

"And I saved our asses, too, didn't I?"

"You did..." If it were only me, I realized things would've turned out a lot different.

"Then get it out, and hurry up, you're wasting valuable time."

"But where would I even cum?"

"That's a good question," she responded, thinking it over. "How about you take out your dick, I'll slip my pants down just enough so you can rub it between my thighs, and then you cum on my cunt."

"Holy hell," I swore. "Miranda, that's a lot more than just a hand-job. Why don't you understand that we'd get caught for sure?"

"Sit down," she pushed me into a chair, "and then I'll stand in front like this, so I can look around the corner to see if anyone is coming. Now," she grabbed at my belt when we were in her suggested position, "we hurry to get you to bust as fast as we can, and then it's over before you know it."

"Just hand stuff," I surrendered.

"Just hand stuff," she promised after my button and zip were undone, pulling my prick from its restrictive prison. "See? It's not so bad," she started to stroke, taking a brief glance around the wall that barely concealed us, "and no one's coming."

I fell into a stupor as she pumped, sensitive and vulnerable from having been so aroused watching her and my sister, copious amounts of pre-cum dribbling from my tip, lubricating slightly her hand and grip, causing it to squelch when she tugged and pulled. My breathing became shallow, I felt feverish, and I requested she look again. We were alone, but my heartbeat I could still feel palpitating throughout my entire body. My chest felt like it was being pounded on like a literal drum. Then, to my horror, she started pulling down her own pants, and was advancing with her pelvis protruding in my direction, where I could see her exposed vulva.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, trying to fix her vesture.

"I just want to rub it a little. Come on, don't be such a prude. We've come this far, what's a little farther? I'm telling you, babe, they're going to be gone awhile. Just give in; I'll do all the work. I've got this, I promise."

"Then you better hurry the fuck up, because I'm about to have a goddamn heart attack over this shit."

With an intentional "whoopsie", she sat down upon my cock, sheathing it to the hilt. My mouth opened wide, and I was pushing at her abdomen and chest, awestruck from the feeling of the hottest, tightest embrace smothering and swallowing my every inch in purest, rawest ecstasy. In sudden movements, she thrust forward and backward, not upwards or downwards, grinding hard upon me as I lay as deep within her depth as I might be. Her movements were so slow, but the chair still squeaked, or until she rest her foot against one of the wooden rods connecting together its legs, holding it thusly in perfect place. Arching her back, she leaned to see the hallway, and when no one approached to catch us, went back to discretely, though intensely, humping me.

"Miranda..." I wanted to talk some sense into her.

"I'm fucking you in your mother's kitchen, and she could catch us any minute," she hissed salaciously, so close that her infernal breath rolled out onto my neck.

"Stop, we really are going to get caught if—"

"That nasty fucking cunt around your dick... Mm, baby, do you like your whore fucking you so raunchy like that, huh? And knowing the last pussy this cock tasted was your sister makes my clit throb. Fuck, it's hot enough to make my pussy clench. Can you feel that sick shit, baby? Doesn't that make you want to nut?"

"Miranda, please..." I pleaded. "Fuck, it feels so good, though."

"Are you close?"

"We've only just started... But," I started pulling up on her body as it overpowered mine, "that's enough. I admit, this is hot, unbelievably so, but you've got what you wanted, to fulfill the fantasy of fucking me here where they could walk in on us anytime. But they are really going to if you don't stop."

"Ass-play," she announced, kissing right under my ear, to then nibble upon it.

"What—"

"If I stick a finger in your ass, especially when you're this deep inside me, you'll explode like a firework."

"Please don't, you know I'm not into stuff like that."

"Just this once, Hun, then we'll never do it again. My fantasy isn't complete until they either catch us or you cream-pie me. It's one or the other, so pick one."

"Are you sure this'll work?" I was afraid it would, dreading being touched in that way almost as much as I dreaded being discovered in our lewd, exhibitionist activities.

"If it doesn't, I'll work you until it does," was her promise.

"Hurry up..."

After receiving my permission, she lathered a finger up in the lubricants that poured from her hole and left my hardness drenched. Then, she reached back, and I closed my eyes. Gradually, I felt the most vivid sensation of her swirling her wet finger around my anus. Nothing hurt, or at least not yet. When she'd readied me, I felt a prodding, and then an entry. I gripped her finger tighter than she gripped me, and I felt my every throb pulsing about her penetration from the inside out. Suddenly, my length was twice as sensitive, causing her vaginal muscles and their compression around me to liquefy my knees and dissolve my body into sweaty, quivering raptures.

Luckily, her cunt was too much for me to handle, and before she could start fingering me, the very thought of her doing such a thing so abhorrent, I climaxed. My rectum sealed airtight, letting up briefly during the short intervals of the pulsations which emptied my balls up into her. My orgasm was full and deep, where I felt as though I was releasing that which had built up in my scrotum to replace that which I was to normally lose, the semen that had no intention on being otherwise emitted. Whenever I finished, the act of discharge being longer than I remembered, she waited for me to relax before exiting. I shuddered when she started sucking her finger, though I was thankful for good hygiene.

"See? It wasn't so bad," Miranda noted as she dismounted. "And look at that creamy, cum filled pussy, baby," she then proudly said, displaying the frothing, aforementioned orifice I'd just deposited into. "Almost good enough to eat—"

The sound of a door opening interrupted whatever her implication was. As my eyes went wide, she was already buttoning her trousers, though pulling at her crotch to fix the panties that clung awkwardly to her sopping, leaking crotch. I followed her lead, and she backed into the wall as I stood, careful not to take a single step forward, because that would cause my approaching mother and sister to see me with my pants practically at my ankles. Because my wife finished dressing before I, she'd me doing my belt as she did my zipper. Our fingers almost tangled when we each dove for the button, but the voices coming were literally right around the corner. I pulled my shirt down and my partner in debauchery was seated inconspicuously by my side. Not even—

"I hope this isn't too much," Katy grunted as she dragged a large, bulging suitcase into view. "As you can see," she pointed to the enormous luggage, where everything she owned was most likely stuffed into one container, "it's just a thing or two. You know... the essentials. Hey," she looked at me, "why are you sweating?"

"It's perfect, Katie dear," Miranda intervened as I wiped my burning face on my sleeve, "just as long as it's not too little. Are you certain you've got everything?" She then put her finger to her lips, the gesture dissolving into rubbing under her nose when my mom revealed herself.

"Are you guys sure it's okay that she stays with you?" the middle-aged woman asked. "You know, because you're... married."

"Mom!" my sister caught the innuendo. "Don't be gross, god...!"

"It'll be fine," her daughter reassured her, laughing and shaking her head. "I think the only pain in the ass will be big bro over here," she looked at me and I could see that she thought herself to be a god. "You know, because of work."

"Work...?" I was too focused on her deviousness to comprehend the second meaning to her words.




The Nasty Wife Pt. 04



"Look at the time, Hun."

"Holy fuck," I swore at my wristwatch, having to be in bed an hour ago, with a moderate drive ahead of us. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" was then pleaded as my mother went to slap the shit out of me for cursing.

"Well, Gaby, it was nice seeing you. It really is getting way too late, though, so off we go and all that," Miranda initiated our goodbyes.

Each of us received ample hugs and kisses, Katy especially, and I struggled to lift that ten ton suitcase over my shoulder. The door was opened for me, more obligatory dialogue was said, mothers being unable to let go and to stop repeating 'I love you' after every other sentence and all that. Then, the three of us were heading for our ride home.

"I have something to show you," my giddy wife teased my sibling when we were out of earshot.

"What is it?"

"Just wait until we get to the car."

"Stop, I can't handle surprises. Just tell me, please."

"We just fucked," she gestured to me.

"Nu-uh...!" Katy's inflection was a mixture of disbelief and jealousy.

"Yes-huh, it happened in the kitchen when you were packing. He came inside me and everything. You should've seen it, it was hot..."

My sister and I stopped dead in our tracks, she because of shock and I because I realized that this was Miranda's way of confessing her intention was for us to have been caught in the act.



The Nasty Wife Pt. 05



Waking up early being a habit, I opened my eyes five minutes before my alarm was to go off. Lying there, I pretended to sleep until I finally sat up, deactivated the device a minute early, shook my wife until she stirred, and stood. Miranda was on her stomach, a sheet wrapped around her bare leg, brunette hair a mess covering her face as she lifted it from a pillow. She groaned, feeling as I felt, and started pulling her lithe, scantily clad frame from the bed to join me. By this time, I headed for the private bathroom belonging to our bedroom and started the hot water. When I was undressed, stepping into the liquid rejuvenation, she had followed, entering the room via stumble, lazily pulling her shirt up and over her head. After she disrobed, the shower door squeaked, she approached me, basking in the steaming water flowing from overhead, and it was closed, four almost transparent walls of glass encircling us as we bathed.

"Work is hell," she groggily announced, her eyes closed, purring from the showerhead raining ecstasy upon us. "I'd rather," she held me close, "just be here with you. Mm... or we could stay in bed all day."

"Don't tempt me. The thought of that alone is almost worth quitting over."

"The bitch," Miranda referred to her boss, "is probably going to rail my ass today. God, I wish I could tell her to go fuck herself."

She was a personal aid to a CEO of a company. Her job description was a lot like that of a secretary, only a lot more personal. Whereas a secretary might have to do minimal desk work, like answering phones, keeping dates, and etcetera, and then meet a quota of bitch work, my wife's obligations comprised of nothing but the latter. However, she was paid decently for it and, apart from the fact the woman she worked for had a stick up her ass about everything, Miranda had little to genuinely complain about.

"If you quit," she cooed, her hair now wet, dark, and straight, "then I quit, too."

"I wish," I kissed her.

"I've got to take your sister to school," she reminded me without unclosing her eyes.

"I'd almost forgotten..."

"Yesterday was like a dream," Miranda said exactly what I'd been thinking. "Mm, I wish we could have sex right now, but we don't have time."

"You'll be the end of me," was my jest.

"Then I'll fuck your body, or kill myself so we can have raunchy devil-sex in hell."

Hearing her say something so bluntly obscene made my heart pound. "You already fuck me like a demon..."

"Stop teasing, we've got to get out of here. We'll be late if you keep this up."

"I think you're the one teasing me," I kissed the side of her face, then her lips, and we shared a passionate embrace before she inevitably let go.

"Babe..." she pleaded, prompting me to turn the shower off, causing her cling to me to compensate for the source of warmth we'd just lost.

I dried her off, laying pecks against various parts of her body, she returned the favor, and then we dressed. Whilst she did her makeup in the mirror, her hair up in a towel, I excused myself. Normally I'd watch, but if either of us kept stalling, we'd both end up tardy.

When I made my way into the kitchen, I saw Katy, her femininities adorned by nothing but an unbuttoned flannel shirt, a bra underneath, and a pair of boy-shorts, seated on a stool at the counter. Her dirty blonde locks were only half brushed, and she'd her head face down next to a bowl of cereal. With how her chest heaved with deepened breath, she could have been asleep like that.

"Sis," I prodded her side with a finger, causing her to awaken.

"Fuck," she grumbled, "what time is it?" Then, when she saw the clock, she returned her head to its resting place after ingesting a spoonful of colorful sugar, garbling, "Ugh, stop, I've still got hours before class."

"If Miranda is taking you, you're going to have to go in a little earlier, since she only has an hour before she's got to be in for work," I informed her, adjusting my tie.

"No, I should have stayed with Mom," my sibling groaned. "You guys are killing me."

Her skimpy bottoms were killing me. They tightly clung to her luscious, ample backside, and I'd to remind myself that she was my sister. Shuddering, I started making the wife and I breakfast, despite the fact she'd most likely just grab something cheap on her way to her responsibilities.

"Cup-Kate," the woman said after entering, dressed in a blouse, tight skirt, nylons, and heels, "you're not even clothed yet."

"Oh god, that's what Mom used to call me..."

"Would you prefer being called something else, then?" Miranda was close, and Katy looked dreamily upon her, breathless.

"...No," she whimpered. "I mean, you can call me whatever you want. Ugh, you smell amazing, though."

It was true, her perfume was strong and sweet, and, if I turned away from the stove, I could smell her even though she was a number of feet away.

"Mm, thank you, sweetie," my wife pet the crown of my sibling's head. "But certainly you're not walking around campus like that. Come on, you've got to get dressed."

"You make it sound like you're going to be the one to dress me..." the blonde joked, though was obviously intimidated.

"And why not?" the brunette inquired. "I can take your clothes off, but I can't put them back on?"

"What are you doing to me...?" my sister moaned, and I looked over to see that the two females weren't touching, since I firstly suspected that Miranda might be groping her by the sound of her voice. "I mean... this way you treat me, I don't understand it."

"My little baby-Kate doesn't like when Miranda treats her like this?"

"Miranda makes me—ugh, I mean—Miranda makes her baby-Kate weak... Fuck, I'm shaking."

"Why don't you spread your legs for me...?"

"Miranda," I caught her attention. "Uh... you know, the time."

"It's okay," she said, her hand down Katy's shorts, and I could tell, even though my sister had her back to me, from the way she rested her arms back on the counter and sighed with my wife so close, "I bet you I can make my pretty cup-Kate cum like she was a premature ejaculator. Oh, honey, you're so wet already. Does Miranda do that, baby? Goddamn, you're tight on my finger like..." I refuse to repeat what she proceeded to say.

"Good god, Miranda..." I gasped, disoriented from hearing something so condemnable.

"What? It's true! She's got an amazing little cunt on her. It's a compliment."

"But why'd you have to put it that way? God's mother," was all I could exclaim.

"You're right," she muttered under her breath, enthralled by what she was doing to Katy, "not even god's mother is this tight."

"Okay, ease up, Miranda. You're going out of control already."

"You make me explode with tingles," my sister was inert, with her body loose and fluent like liquid. "From the crown of my head to the base of my spine, you make me melt. I've never felt this way before... ugh."

"Hun, are you going to eat?" I tried taking my mind off their debauchery.

"What? No, she'd ruin my makeup."

I shook my head, saying, "I meant food."

"I'll grab something on the way," suddenly she sounded exerted, and I saw that she was jabbing hard and fast into a place I couldn't see but knew was Katy's crotch. "Do you like it when Miranda plays with sweet-Kate's clit like that, love?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girl softly cooed.

"And how about when she fucks your... hard, fast, and deep like that?" she interrogated, though I've, again, censored her unrepeatable antics.

"Oh god, yes, Miranda...!"

"Babe," I scolded her. "Seriously, please don't say things like that."

"They're just words, it's not like..." she said the worst of all.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Miranda," I'd married a monster.

"I'm cumming, please don't stop, Mommy," Katy was convulsing so hard the countertop rattled, and she was practically screaming. "Oh god—fuck, I—shit, no... Ugh, I just creamed..."

"Sweetheart," my wife wiped the bangs of the face I couldn't see and then lifted her chin, "did you just call me 'Mommy'?"

"...No."

"Cup-Kate, you know it's okay if you want to call Miranda that..."

"No," she swooned, "that's so wrong..."

"Do you want to taste it?" the brunette held up a finger coated in frothy discharge. "Does my little cup-Kate want to taste her own frosting?"

My sister's head bobbed enthusiastically forward, and then, when she brought it back, I saw that Miranda's finger was clean. "Good girl," she was awarded by the deviously smiling debauchee, whose voice was criminally tender. "You swallowed it all up, good job...!"

I'd long finished cooking, meagerly picking through my meal, but I couldn't eat much. Although I needed nourishment, my stomach rejected what I put down. I ended up chugging a glass of water, swallowed forcibly some essentials, and began leisurely cleaning up. By this time, Katy had stood, and so I took her bowl, knowing she was finished with it, and partially washed it out before leaving it in the sink to do later with my dishes.

"I'm going to go dress our precious princess here, so you should probably head on out for work," the wife spoke to me as she led my sister away.

Staring at my half naked sibling, the ass of whom I gawked at as she departed, then her breasts, curtained by her flannel top, when she briefly turned, my balls were aching. "Uh, yeah, right—"

"Unless you want to join us?" the woman bit her lip as she offered.

Glancing at my watch, I swore because of the time, and then I followed them without saying anything. We went to the guest bedroom, the two women decided on an outfit, and Miranda removed the clothes she was currently wearing. Before she was manually changed, Katy was set on the bed and her legs were spread for me.

"She's smooth and nude like..." the brunette spoke the unspeakable while kissing into her inner thigh.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Hun," I was rubbing my temples.

"Don't pretend like you weren't thinking it. Ugh, couldn't you just flip her over, force her face into a pillow, and fuck her until she didn't want it anymore?"

"God..." the blonde was shivering from all the attention. "I don't think that's possible, you make me drip."

"I need to buy a strap-on," Miranda thought aloud. "There's no way you're the only one getting a piece of this perfect snatch," she continued before nibbling playfully at Katy's compact, yet plump, pussy lips.

"It's going to be hard working after this." My erection was agonizing.

"She already got hers," the wife noted, "so why don't you fuck me?"

"We just showered..." I reminded her.

"Wash your face afterwards and smother yourself in cologne. But I want you to bend me over on top of her," she lifted up her skirt and already had her lacy panties at her knees, "and then fuck me as she looks me right in the face."

"But..." my sister protested before I could.

"But what, Katy dear?" she had her face stroked.

"I—watching you—but..." the girl stammered.

"Aw, look, she's jealous...!" Miranda having said this made the blonde blush, even though she was also frowning. "Don't be jealous, honey, you know Mommy loves you."

"No, please don't call yourself that..." she was writhing in orgasmic bliss. "It's not right."

"We have to leave soon," I warned my dillydallying spouse.

"Hun, please, that bitch can eat the cum you're about to leave in my cunt for all I care. Come, take that dick of yours out and put it in me," she slid atop my sibling so their busts were pressed together, hiking up her skirt to present to me her shapely buttocks and gapped thighs. "Don't be shy now," she wagged her ass from side to side, "I know you can't resist."

And she was right. Shaking my head, I approached from behind, and I revealed my throbbing hardness from the front of my trousers. Miranda reached back and grabbed me by the tie, and laid a kiss upon my lips as I was prepared to mount her. I didn't close my eyes. They were too busy studying my sister, who watched jealously. When we parted, my wife didn't let go, but returned her attention to Katy nonetheless. The delicate creature looked beyond the brunette and right at me as I couldn't resist the urge to slide into the pink, steamy hole held open for my entry, and her expression was of absolute betrayal.

"Aw, what's the matter, baby-Kate?" my spouse noticed the girl's furrowed brow and quivering bottom lip. "Is my sweet little thing—"

"I don't like this," the blonde confessed. "It makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"Precious baby, want me to rub it?" the demoness wasn't even mocking as she asked.

"I want you to stop."

Even though I'd sunk inward, to feel that succulent wetness soak me, those rapturous walls hugging the several inches I'd pushed in until it felt like she was keeping the blood flow from circulating back into the rest of my body, I pulled out. "I'm sorry," I apologized on instinct.

"Mommy's little girl jealous?" Miranda teased.

"Yes," no longer was there playfulness in Katy's voice. "I don't want this."

"What don't you want, sugar cookie?" my sister had her forehead kissed, my wife's words grotesquely sweet.

"To watch you do this."

"If she doesn't want—"

"Shush," I was silenced before she further inquired. "Katy dear, what don't you want to watch, huh? Is it him fucking me, or me fucking him?"

The blonde couldn't take her helpless eyes from my direction.

"Oh, sweetheart," Miranda cooed, cradling my sibling's head, "I thought we went over this. He's mine, not yours. But guess what?"

"What?" she was ready to cry.

"You're mine, and if you're a good girl, I'll let you pretend he's yours. But just for pretend, okay?"

"Okay, this is too far," I took my wife by the arm to pull her off.

"Let go," she nonchalantly demanded, taking me by the wrist. "What right do you think you have to lay your hands on me?"

The implication of such a threat was all that I needed to release my grip.

"Now, cup-Kate, what did you think about what Mommy just told you?"

"Why would you do that to me?" a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Aw, honey, but you're my little cuckquean. You can't have your brother, that's icky, icky incest. Let's not forget that he's married to your Mommy," she held up her ring finger.

"If you're going to be like this, I want to go home," Katy announced. "Please, let's just let things go back to being... innocent."

"Kiss it," my spouse's diamond was shoved in my sister's face.

"I'm not touching you," I said as the blonde gasped in horror, recoiling, "but I am asking you to get off my sister now, Miranda."

"Or what, you're going to make me?"

Hoping my threat wasn't idle, I responded, "I will."

"How about we make a little arrangement?" the deviant suggested. "You kiss my wedding ring," she said to Katy, "and I won't make you watch him fuck me."

"Miranda—"

But it was too late. My sister already pursed her lips before the shimmering rock and gave it a peck. I couldn't believe it, and she looked so humiliated.

"There, are you happy now?" her tone was bitchy so she could procure some of her dignity back.

"Suck it like it was my clit, and then you're free to go."

"Jesus Christ, Miranda, she already kissed it, can't you—"

Katy put the jeweled bulb in her mouth and suckled. A hand was sent through her hair, caressing her sweetly as she complied with such a terrible request. However, when she received such affection, her gesture of obedience grew even more heated, where she wrapped a tongue about the diamond before pulling her face away, realizing what she'd just been lulled into doing on her own accord.

"I think my little cuckquean likes it," the brunette declared. "Hey, do you think an award is in order, baby-Kate?"

"Like what?" my sibling was afraid to ask.

"How about my husband fucks you, huh? Would you like that?"

She reluctantly nodded, but her eyes were down in shame.

"I'll lend him to you, then, cup-Kate, but on one condition, okay?"

"What is it?"

"He butt-fucks you," her voice was unwavering.

"But I don't do that..." the girl pleaded. "I'm not like that."

"That's what you said about being my little gay girl, wasn't it? I think I could just as easily turn you into your brother's butt-slut little sissy."

"I don't want to be your little gay girl anymore, Miranda, you make my chest hurt like I'm falling."

"Aw, you just broke my heart," my estranged spouse had her hand at bosom in an almost comical manner. "But Mommy loves you. You don't want to be mine?"

"Stop," I demanded, "all you're doing is toying with her emotions. It's not even kinky anymore, it's sadistic."

"Does it hurt?" Katy contemplated surrendering.

"Yes, but that's why my cup-Kate has to take it. Love hurts, baby girl, so I've got to teach you early—"

"Miranda, this is madness...!" I exclaimed, close to dragging her off to be lectured.

"Let me finish, you fucking prick," she snapped at me before returning to the soft, gentle tone she took with my sibling. "It hurts, but I promise you'll like it. Do you remember when he was fucking your pussy and it felt so good? Imagine feeling that times ten, where you feel every sensation with unimaginable clarity. Mm, doesn't that sound good?"

"It does..." the dirty blonde groaned, her eyes filled with both temptation and fear.

"Lay on your stomach, then, and you can sniff Mommy's cunt as he fucks your virgin asshole."

Katy did as she was told, and when she lay with her back and buttocks to me, her head rested on its side. She looked back and we locked eyes as Miranda led me behind the inert girl, giving her gracious ass a smack, making the recipient to such a gesture jolt, shiver, and yelp. My wife was kissing one cheek while simultaneously holding them open for me to see the sealed shut pucker above the glistening, lubricious pinkness that was her main aperture.

"Are you sure?" I needed to hear her say it before I would even consider sodomizing my sibling.

"Just do it," was her sniveled response.

I left my glans at her rectal entrance, hoping it would gape, but it didn't. She was clenching in preparation, and Miranda had to massage her to get her tension to release. When the blonde relaxed, my wife spit copiously upon my member and the asshole I was to perforate, lubing up both. Then, with much resistance, I stuffed the tip inside. I was met by the balling of fists, the curling of toes, the arching of her back, and her jaw dropping.

"No, no, no, stop, don't...!" she immediately repeated. "It hurts, oh god, it burns and you're ripping me!"

"Don't stop," Miranda hissed to me before turning to Katy. "Baby, it'll hurt at first, but as your butt gets used to it, you'll know pleasures your pussy could never show you."

"Oh god," my sister was crying, but I was held in place, unable to dismount, "please make it stop. I don't want to do this anymore!"

"It's either his dick or my fist," the demoness threatened. "I'm telling you, sweetie, it'll start feeling good, but if you don't bite the bullet now, I'll fuck you in a way that'll never stop hurting."

"I can't do it, I can't take it," the sobbing girl admitted. "I'll do anything you want, just make it stop...!"

"Watch him fuck me, then."

"You're evil," I told my wife, though she didn't care for my remark, and would have heckled me if she knew that the clenching rectum was pleasurable despite the pain it caused.

After the red faced, teary eyed female thought it over, she said, "No, keep going."

"What?" I couldn't believe she'd choose this over a nearly painless alternative.

"Keep going, I can take it," she lied. "Just be gentle, and I should be okay."

"You heard your sister," my sadistic wife said to me, "fuck her, then. She's made her decision."

"But..." looking down, I saw that I was no longer a captive, and that I was now penetrating her on my own initiative.

"I love you..." Katy confessed, her eyes staring into mine. "Please, just get it over with."




The Nasty Wife Pt. 05



"Play with yourself," was Miranda's only mercy, "and it'll ease the pain. Hun, don't start yet, let her get a feel for it, and then give it to her when she's ready."

"Will you do it?" the girl had grabbed the brunette by the blouse, and this sudden gesture caught her off guard. "I can't stop shaking. It'd be easier if you did it for me, please..."

"Yeah, of course," the inflection in my wife's voice was surprisingly... compassionate.

A slender arm disappeared beneath the buxom blonde's body, and she started to work her cunt. The cavity about the head of my prick started to throb in the rhythm of what I assumed was Miranda's frigging, and she gradually loosened as the pleasure helped Katy to relax. She hugged at one of my wife's legs, prompting the brunette to look to me, confused, yet unceasing in her attempts to pleasure the girl we shared.

"Thanks," she breathily spoke, "it still hurts, but it also feels sort of weird... in a good way."

"Just tell us when you're ready, darling—Oh fuck me," Miranda interrupted herself when she saw the clock on the wall. "I need to leave," she rolled off the bed and was fixing her underwear. "Uh, uh," she panicked, "come on, Katy, if you still want me to take you."

I was afraid to see the time, but I did and my heart nearly burst in my chest, so I pulled out, the sudden movement making my sister squirm and gasp in agony. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, Kate. I didn't mean to—"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" the blonde was rubbing her tortured ass.

"What?" my partner and I asked in near unison.

"I go through all this and then it's just... over?"

"I'll lose my job," Miranda was antsy, almost pacing.

"Yeah, I'm already unbelievably late..." I couldn't believe it, terrified of everyone being at the office without me, regardless of the fact that I was their supervisor.

Katy brought a pillow to her face and shrilly shrieked into it. The brunette and I exchanged a look, and then my sibling slowly, still in pain, got up and started dressing. Not for the same reason she originally anticipated, more so just to hurry her along, Miranda helped the girl clothe her nudity.

"Go, Hun," a frustrated spouse pressured me. "I got her, just go...!"

I'd my vesture fixed by this time, but stood, unsure whether to exit or to stay. "But, but—"

"I love you, now leave."

"I love you, too," I said on impulse before looking to my sibling as she awkwardly stepped into a denim skirt. "You're okay, right?"

"We'll finish this later," I was surprised to hear her say, though she avoided eye contact. "But if you're asking if I'm mad at you, of course I'm not."

Despite my better judgment, knowing that leaving them alone together was a bad idea, I dashed off. Something kept me lingering on the other side of the doorway, however, and so I hesitated before fully leaving. Staring at my watch, I was so focused that it was as though I was trying to turn back time, until I heard the voices in the room behind me.

"I'll make it up to you, cup-Kate. I hope you aren't upset with me because I was a little rough with you."

"...I was only crying because I knew you'd like it."

Afraid to hear more, I snatched my keys off the counter on my way out.



The Nasty Wife Pt. 06



I returned home as per usual, nothing significant having happened at work, excluding my employees noting the irony of their boss being tardy. However, I knew Katy was waiting on me, since she'd have gotten home from the campus sometime in the late afternoon, and then it'd take Miranda an hour to arrive after my own arrival. The door was unlocked and I spotted her pink Converse on the floor, then her bag on the kitchen counter. Searching for my sister, I found her on the couch, laying on her stomach with a pillow underneath, uninterestedly watching TV. She turned it off when I sat by her socked feet.

"Does it still hurt?" I inquired.

"No," she wiped a bang from her eyes, "it's a little tender, though."

"About this morning—"

"Don't," I was stopped. "You have nothing to apologize over, you know that, right?"

"How don't I?"

"I understand her," she came out of left field. "It's like we're playing a game, and I don't regret being a player."

"What are you talking about?" my confusion was genuine.

"I'm talking about Miranda. It's like we're roleplaying, and she has all these thoughts and fantasies that she wants us to participate in, and even though they might feel so crazy and real, it's just pretend."

"I don't know, Kate, this morning didn't seem like fantasy or pretend to me. It's like we were about to—"

"Rape me? Please, that's impossible. You know I love you."

"I heard what you said to her after I left," I confessed, "and I've been thinking about it all day."

"What did you hear?" she sat up and scooted close.

"When you told her that you were crying because it'd please her," I clarified.

"Because it's true, I was just exaggerating. I mean, it was easier because I'd never been touched like that before, but I wouldn't have let it happen if I didn't seriously want it."

"Really?" if this was true, a fatal weight was lifted from my shoulders.

"Yes," she touched my cheek, caressing me with her thumb lightly. "But there is one thing that bothers me."

"What's that?" I was drowning in her lively, hazel eyes.

"I'm in love with you, and even though she tries to contain and limit our time spent together in that way, I want you for myself."

"In love...?" I stuttered. "Katy, you know I love you, but we're brother and sister. Being in love is like—"

"Is like what you and Miranda have, I know. I've been certain about this for a long, long time, and now I finally have the chance to act on it," she climbed atop my lap. "Hey, how much time do we have until she gets home?"

"An hour... Why? But Katy, do you understand—"

"So it's okay for us to lust after each other as siblings, but we're not allowed to love?"

"It's wrong either way," I affirmed, "but it's different when it's more than just fooling around."

"It's only wrong because you say it is. If you agreed with me, if you felt for me as I do for you, then there wouldn't be a problem. But hey, while she's gone, we should have sex. It's the perfect opportunity to have each other before she intervenes again."

"I'm not sure, Kate, you make it sound like you want me to cheat on my wife..."

"That's exactly what I want," she leaned in and kissed me on the lips, though I didn't kiss back. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I'm not betraying Miranda, even if you do mean a lot to me..."

"She doesn't care if we fuck. You've already got her complete permission to have your way with me as much as you want."

"Just not in this way," I included the most quintessential detail. "This is different."

"She won't know about it unless you tell her."

"I can't, Katy, and you know that."

"You know," she crossed her arms, still in my lap, "it's funny. She gives me more attention than you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" her implication was beyond me.

"If I told Miranda that I was in love with her, she would pet, kiss, and talk sweet to me. I tell you the same thing and you reject me. When we 'fool around', she touches me more than you do. Even when we're just talking, she speaks to me way more than—" 

"Okay, okay, I get it. But what's your point?"

"My point is that you're an asshole and your crazy ass wife treats me better, even and especially when she's telling me her sickest, most ruthless of thoughts."

I was offended. "That's not fair. I'm the one looking out for you while—"

"While she calls me her baby and loves on me? And how are you looking out for me when, every time things get out of control, you don't even do anything to stop her? Not that I'm asking you to, I mean."

"What do you want me to do, then? Have sex with you to show you that I care?"

"No. I'm not even in the mood anymore. But when your wife gets home, I am going to confess to her what I've just confessed to you. I don't think it was enough to say it; I am going to show you how much of an ass you truly are."

"Fine, then," I said in frustration.

"Humph, fine," she took the seat to my right.

"Good."

"Grand," my sister one upped me, fueling our childish game.

"Brilliant."

"Perfect," she used my lap as a pillow as she turned the television back on.

"Better than perfect," I covered her eyes.

"Better than perfect times infinity," she backhanded me in the chest.

"Oh yeah...? More perfect than perfect to the infinite power," I poked her in the side.

"More perfect than perfect to the power of go fuck yourself," she retorted, where I could think of nothing better to say.

After a pause, I inquired, "So what are you going to say to her?"

"You know," she flipped through the channels, "just how I'm in love with her."

"And what are you expecting to gain out of this again?"

"I just want to put you in your place. When she calls me her baby girl and touches me until I feel like I'm going to faint, you're going to realize that you're the biggest prick on the face of the earth."

"If I'm the biggest prick on the face of the earth, then you're the biggest bitch in the entire solar system."

"If I'm the biggest bitch in the entire solar system, then that makes you the biggest prick in the universe."

"Well, at least I don't get off being called 'Miranda's little gay girl' or whatever."

"At least I didn't cum to a picture of our mom," she delivered the finishing blow.

There was some more discourse, but the wife finally came in, set her things down, and walked over to us.

"I see you two are doing fine, then," she said, hands at her hips. "Hopefully I didn't miss anything while I was gone," she looked to me.

"Miranda...!" Katy hopped up. "There's something I have to confess to you."

"Alright, what is it?" the brunette was suspicious, studying the blonde from behind her thick framed glasses.

"Well... I'm in love with you. I've been thinking a lot about it, and that's the conclusion I've come to."

"Did he put you up to this?" Miranda gestured to her husband, who watched with anticipation.

"No, of course not," the girl was defensive. "I mean, we talked about it briefly, and then I told him I was going to come clean to you, but honestly..." she paused. "I think it made him jealous."

"Well," my wife pulled her heels off and wiggled her nylon covered toes, "I'd be flattered, but I'm pissed off. The bitch rode me hard for being late, though I get to keep my job. She made me do everything but eat her pussy to make things right, so I'm really bitter at the moment."

I caressed my beloved's side as she stood next to me, giving her an empathetic look. "I'm sorry, Hun. Is there any way I can help you unwind?"

"No," her face was grave, her tone indifferent, and she ruffled her hair. "I think," she went on, sitting down and putting her feet up on the coffee table, "I just need to relax."

Katy was shocked, staring at the dark haired woman with her jaw partially dropped. "But what about me...?"

"What's the matter, babe?" Miranda asked, massaging her weary soles, though her inflection was unlike it usually was when addressing my sibling.

"I just confessed that I was in love with you."

"I'm sorry, dear; it's been a long day. I'd go to sleep if it didn't mean I'd wake up to the same thing all over again."

My sister gasped, pouting in her need for attention. "What do I have to do to get you to acknowledge me?"

"Well," my spouse rubbed her aching arches, "would you massage my feet? They hurt from running any and everywhere from the moment I clocked in to the moment I clocked out."

"But I'm in love with you!" Katy pleaded.

"Then you wouldn't mind doing this one thing for me?"

"But feet are gross..."

"I'm not asking you to suck them, I'm just asking for a little rub. Please, pretty, pretty please?"

"Ugh, fine..." the blonde groaned, getting on her knees beside both the table and Miranda's legs. "This'll get you to notice me?" she needed some final reassurance.

"Yes, I'll appreciate this so, so much. You have no idea how much I need this..."

Without saying anything, Katy picked up her left foot and started to work its sole with her thumbs. My wife was swooning, melting into the sofa, and urged the girl to continue. The skintight fabric darkened her complexion, and I realized that the sensation of the massage was probably amplified because of the nylons she wore. Looking to my sister, I saw that she had no idea what she was doing, but switched to the right foot to give it the same treatment.

"This feels... weird."

"Ah, but it feels so good on my end," my spouse cooed, her eyes closed. "What's weird about it?"

"It just feels kind of—I don't know—erotic, I guess," Katy complained.

"Would you have a problem with that?"

"Well, no—"

"Mm, what would you do if I put my toe in your mouth?"

"I'd vomit," my sibling grimaced. "Your feet smell like sweat."

"If you worship them with your mouth, I'll give you a present," an enthusiastic Miranda offered.

"What kind of present?" the blonde knew to be reluctant.

"Okay, here's the deal," my beloved began, sitting up to strip her stockings off, revealing her fairest flesh underneath, "you can either guess what the present is, or you worship my feet and you find out when I give it to you."

"I don't know..."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Here, I'll even give you a clue. It's for smelling, but it's not for your nose."

"What the fuck?" I finally chimed in, unsure if I'd heard her backwards riddle correctly. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"Shush, that's for her to figure out."

"I don't think I want this present, that sounds... weird," Katy admitted.

"I promise you that you'll love it as soon as you find out what it is," the smiling Miranda reassured her.

"Shit, I hate surprises, and I can't think of anything. If you're supposed to smell it, but it's not for your nose, what the fuck is it for?"

"You'll find out soon enough, so either keep guessing or start licking."

"You're not tricking me into licking your feet just so you can make me smell your dirty nylons, are you?"

"No, no," the brunette guffawed. "That would be too easy, and besides, I don't think you've earned the right to smell them yet in the first place."

"I think I'd sooner miss out on the best present in the world than lick your feet."

"I don't know," Miranda hugged her purse, "it's a really good present. Are you sure you don't want it?" she asked, wagging her toes, of which were perfectly pedicured and beautified by black nail polish, in my sister's face.

"But they're your icky feet," Katy scowled.

"Well, it's either my feet or my asshole, sweetheart, so take your pick."

"Ugh, but they stink," she proceeded to whine.

"Here," my wife reached over, fetched one of her high heels from the floor, and presented it to my sibling. "Put your nose in this, and if it doesn't change your mind, then I'll just give you your present here and now."

"So all I have to do is smell your shoe?"

"Yeah, but you have to really breathe it in, with the tip of your nose touching the sole."

"Fine," Katy snatched the footwear.

I went to talk her out of it, asking, "Are you sure that's a good idea—"

Sticking her nose inside, Miranda watching expectantly, she inhaled. I could see her chest heave up with the breath she took, and then, by the time it collapsed on exhale, her eyes were in the back of her head. As she sat on her knees, her free hand dug its nails into her thigh before going absolutely spasmodic. The shoe fell from her face, her expression sour. Involuntarily, she periodically shook, as if trying to get the scent out of her system, rejecting it so thoroughly.

"Well," the blonde squeaked, "can I have my present now?"

"What'd my cup-Kate think?"

"I think it killed some brain cells," Katy was staring at the feet still so close to her, "but it wasn't that bad I guess," despite the fact that her tone seemed to suggest otherwise. "I mean," she wiped her mouth, and we both noticed at the same time that she was drooling, "uh... fuck..."

"What's the matter, baby girl?" Miranda was grinning coyly.

"My eyes are watering a little bit and I'm salivating," my sister confessed. "What about that present?"

"In a minute, love, but first you should," she put a big toe to her lips, "tell me why you're slobbering all over yourself."

"...Please—I—but..."

Katy closed her eyes, sinking down so the digit became an imprint visible through her cheek. She shuddered, her tongue slipping out to coil around the toe she suckled, before letting up with a squelch. Seizing the foot in both hands, she briefly licked the sole and pad before slurping the smaller toes, lapping in between them madly. When she went back to the largest digit, starting to as if fellate it, her eyelids opened, she looked at what she was doing and ceased. Wiping her mouth of the excess spittle, a stray line of saliva connected the big toe to her lips.

"Now the other one," Miranda crossed her ankles, presenting the opposite foot to my star struck sibling. "And then you can have your present, but only after you're done. Good job, though, on making it really sloppy thus far, that's just the way I wanted it."

"Ugh," Kate moaned, "this is so gross."

As she said this, however, she was already tonguing those tiny, wiggling digits. She took them into her mouth until she'd her maw around the entirety of the pad beneath them. Her lips smacked and smacked, sucking like her toes were little straws, to then lower her head to lick up and down from the heel to her sole. In between these vehement laps, she'd rub her nose into the now wet foot, sniffing hard. I'd no clue how she did it, but my wife succeeded in seducing my sibling with her feet.

"I think we should pick up where we left off from this morning," Miranda declared, pulling her foot from the eager worshiper, who whimpered as a result. "My gift should help us along in our revelries."

"You still haven't revealed what it is yet," I noted, somewhat curious, though almost frightened.

"Baby-Kate," my spouse ignored me, "why don't you bend yourself over the coffee table for Mommy and slip your panties down?"

"But what—"

"Strawberry short-Kate, I just need you to do this one last thing for me, then I promise I'll give you as much of your present as your pretty coed ass can handle."

Slowly, Katy's underwear fell from under her skirt and down her legs. Then, she pulled them away from her ankles and lay upon the table, knees to the floor and the socked soles of her feet facing upwards. Hiking up her denim bottoms, her vulva could be seen from behind between her thick, luscious buttocks. By this time, my wife was rummaging around in her purse, kneeling next to the girl who looked back at her. I leaned forward in my seat, trying to see what she'd brandished from her handbag.

"Uh, Hun, what the fuck is that?" I demanded she identify the brown vial as she showed it to my anxious sibling.

"It's for you to smell, baby girl, but it's definitely not for your nose," was her cryptic answer. "Why don't you take a guess what it's for, huh?"

Because of our failed penetration earlier that day, Katy's guess was, "My butt...?"

"Exactly!" she'd her face smooched all over as a reward.

I was now standing, having approached that I might loom over the two of them. "Miranda," my voice was firm as I addressed my beloved, "I want to know what that is before you bring it anywhere near—"

"It's okay, I trust her," my sister took my wife's hand and held it tight. "My mommy wouldn't do anything to hurt her cup-Kate... Would she?" she then asked, her voice uncertain.

"Never, so," she popped off the lid, "why don't you just—"

I blocked the unknown container with my hand as Miranda leisurely brought it up to her nostrils. "Tell me what it is and then I'll decide if this is a good idea or not, but you're going to have to really sell it to me."

"Even if it'll ruin the surprise...?" my spouse didn't even seem bothered by my disturbed state, where she was instead calm and collected.

"I don't like surprises," I informed her, my teeth almost grit.

"If you must know," her demeanor was snobbish, "they're called poppers. Do you know what that is, O husband of mine?"

"Not a clue, but it sounds like a drug, so give—"

"It's perfectly harmless," the brunette retracted her hand from mine. "Do you think I'd intentionally do something horrible to your sister? What, are you nuts? No, it'll relax every muscle in her body, that's all it does, and then it doesn't matter how hard you fuck her ass, she'll love every second of it."

"That sounds amazing," the potential victim was digging her fingers into her crotch at the mere thought.

"This doesn't feel right. I'm not comfortable with you drugging my sister, Miranda."

"Alright, then," she said, putting the vial to her own nose, taking a harsh sniff. When she'd no adverse reactions, only a shiver rolling down her body, she cleared her throat before announcing, "See? It's absolutely harmless."

"I, uh..." I observed her more carefully, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "I guess it's not dangerous, but what's the point if—"

Miranda fell back to her butt with a loud and sudden thud. "Don't let this scare you," she tried to keep herself contained, "but it's perfectly fine, I assure you. I'm just dizzy because my every muscle opened up at once. It's safe, so don't let my lightweight reaction make you think otherwise. Seriously," she started slurring her words and slavering, "a girl of your sister's size has nothing to worry about it."

My wife was sinking into the base of the couch with one shoulder, the arm attached to the other drooping right to the floor, her body inert and still.

"Babe," I went to her side and tried to help her sit up, "are you sure you're okay?"

"That shit really put me on my ass, didn't it?" she joked, where she used too much of her tongue when trying to form coherent speech. "Fuck, it feels like my cunt just turned into sopping mush, and, I'm not going to lie, this is the most comfortable I think I've ever been."

"You shouldn't have done that—"

"I trust you won't take advantage of me while I'm like this," the slobber mouthed brunette loosely grabbed at my collar.

"How long does this usually last for?" my bottomless sister was now standing beside me, investigating the drugged woman.

"Fifteen or twenty minutes," was slurred as a response. "Maybe you should wait, though, until I bounce back before it's your turn, cup-Kate." The way she'd said it was no longer attractive.

"What should we do to her?" Katy asked me, stroking her chin as she contemplated the possibilities.

"Nothing," I shot her down. "We're going to wait until she recovers, then—"

"But think of all the humiliating things we could do to her in fifteen minutes."

"Hey, fuck you, Kate," Miranda spit out. "This is supposed to be for you, you ungrateful—"

"Blah, blah, blah, I'm a stupid bitch," my sibling had grabbed her face, fingers against her cheeks, pretending to make her talk. "That's what you sound like right now. Hey!" she exclaimed as my wife tried to futilely swat her away. "Don't try to hit me, you rude woman."




The Nasty Wife Pt. 06



I pulled Katy aside, saying, "No matter how fun you think it is now, when this passes, she's going to be pissed."

"Eh, I guess you're right... What a waste, though."

We stared at her in silence after she fell over on her side with a thump.

"Whatever," my sister seized my wife by the underarms and dragged her to the middle of the living room floor, leaving her to lie on her back.

"What are you doing?" I didn't want anything that'd either of us would regret later to happen.

"She has these cute, perky boobs that I'm going to play with. Doesn't look like she'll mind much in this state, so I'll help myself," Katy informed me, groping my spouse's chest.

"Stop," the brunette weakly demanded, though was unable to do anything about it.

"Kate, you realize that you're technically molesting her right now, right? I mean, other than the fact she just said no, since she's drugged... this is statutory."

"Are you kidding me?" she laughed. "It's nothing she wouldn't let us do if we asked nice enough."

"But she doesn't want it, Kate," I stopped her as she went to unbutton the defenseless woman's blouse. "I know it may seem harmless, and she is my wife, but—"

I was cut short by a slender hand jolting up and gripping the blonde's neck. Suddenly, voluntarily shaking life back into her limbs, Miranda had recovered. "You," she hissed. "Just what did you think you were going to do, huh?"

"Babe, she—"

"Thanks for having my back, Hun, but I'm going to punish this little bitch for thinking she could have her way with me." She was on her feet now.

"Don't, you know she didn't mean it like that," I took her wrist and pleaded that she release.

"No, no," my wife smiled at me warmly, "I know what she meant, but that doesn't mean she's exempt from being taught a very valuable lesson."

"Promise me you won't hurt her..."

"I would never," was her response, which was startlingly sincere. "Don't you trust the woman you married?"

And I stood down.

"What are you going to do to me, Miranda?" the girl whimpered.

"I'm going to put you in your place, sweetheart," her inflection was wicked and she'd that brown vial in her hand, threatening the blonde's face with it. "Breathe, bitch," she ordered when it was underneath her nostrils. "Just let it happen," my wife's voice sweetened as she got her way. "That's it, that's a good girl."

"Oh god," Katy knees were weak but hadn't given out yet. "Why do I feel...? And I'm so loose in my... everywhere."

"Let the relaxation take you," Miranda was petting her cheek with the back of her hand. "I know the rush is a little overwhelming, but you'll get used to it."

"What rush?" I interrogated. "Are you saying that she's—"

"Ugh, I feel amazing," my sister partially exclaimed and partially moaned. "It's like I'm literally melting into you," she was looking into the brunette's deep, brown eyes. "...Please take advantage of me—oh fuck, I can't handle the way you're looking at me right now. Please touch me, Mommy."

Despite the fact that it looked as though Kate had taken an even deeper breath of the toxins than the female before her, she wasn't as affected. Her speech was normal, and she wasn't collapsing, just acting and moving with less and less inhibition. However, the drugged girl was hanging onto the sober woman, and from the way she gawked at her, I could tell her infatuation was unnatural.

"Lay on your stomach, strawberry short-Kate, and just—Mm, that's it, you're really following directions today, aren't you, baby girl? Alright, now spread—Merciless fuck, look at that, Hun," she motioned for me to peer between my sibling's buttocks, which she reached back and held obediently open, "her little asshole is tighter than imaginable, but look, it's got a bit of a gape going on there. Why don't you," my estranged spouse turned her attention to me, trying to unsheathe my abominable erection, "get this thing out already and fuck your sister's adorable butt, huh?"

"But she's high—"

"Does this look like a face that's saying no, my beloved husband?" The aforementioned expression was one of a bitten lip, a watering mouth, and libidinous eyes.

"Please fuck me," Katy begged. "I've never wanted anything in my whole life so badly. I need it so, so bad..."

I approached and rubbed her lower back. "As long as you're okay with it, Kate—"

"I need it," was her lecherous response.

With that, Miranda having succeeded in fetching my prick from the front of my trousers, I prodded at the rectum teasing me. Unlike before, it did not contract, but was perfectly relaxed, undisturbed by the fact it was to be perforated. She accepted me inside without so much as a struggle or a wince, instead sighing deeply in ecstasy. The chamber was tight, and I could feel her heart racing through her anal walls, but it gripped me not, instead settling where my circumference wished to stretch it open. To test her reaction, I fed her inch after inch, focusing on her face until she would inevitably resist, but was surprised when my pelvis met her tailbone, and she only reveled in my exploration of her depth.

"I think I'm close already," Katy announced, grating her thighs together. "Fuck, I don't know how this was painful before... It feels so fucking good. I've never felt anything like it."

"Which do you like better, sweetie, your ass or your pussy?" my wife questioned as I couldn't help but grind in and out of that cavity of rawest pleasure.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," my sibling covered her face as she thought it over, "but my ass—oh god, yes, fuck—it's definitely my ass."

"That's good, baby-Kate, and do you know why?"

"Why...?" her flustered cheeks were uncovered.

"Because your asshole is your cucky-cunt, and, since you're my little cuckquean princess, you don't get to have your pussy fucked anymore, just your tight little cucky-cunt."

"My... cucky-cunt?" the blonde gasped under her shallow breath.

"That's right, cuck-Kate," the innocent pet name was sinisterly perverted, "your brother gets to fuck your cucky-cunt and put all his nasty cream-pies inside there. What do you think about that, baby girl?"

The lecherous talk had caused me to buck, only to thrust suddenly inwards, and as I rest all the way in to the helve, I felt Katy's insides churning as she came. When I spotted the thickest, whitest ejaculate I'd ever seen flow from a vagina streaming down her thighs, she cooed, "Fuck, Mommy, you just made me cream myself."

"Fuck her, babe," Miranda suggested to me, "fuck her until she's all cummy in her cucky-cunt."

Although the thought of potentially emotionally tormenting my beloved sister perturbed me, I couldn't help myself. I'd a hand on her hip and the other on her lower back, pumping my surging hardness all the way in and then most of the way out. As some sort of instinct, when I was met by absolutely zero resistance, only the dirty blonde's swooning, I was urged to go harder and faster. When I was slamming into her ass, which was tinged pink from my frequent collisions, she jolted only as the direct result of my force, though not from distress or dismay. If anything, she gravitated backwards into my movements, and it was soon startling how rough I'd gotten with her, her anus both allowing and rewarding me for it.

More and more of the creamiest lubricants poured, until they could only weakly seep out from the frequency of their production. The girl laid there and let me do all the work, though climaxed sequentially, and the swifter and more intense my motions, the shorter the intervals between them. I had to stop, since I was panting and nowhere near closeness.

"Wow," Miranda was genuinely surprised, which was rare. "You've been really giving it to her. Did you cum?"

"No, but I can't believe this is happening right now."

"What can't you believe, exactly?" the deviant was chewing on her bottom lip in anticipation for my answer.

Each word was coupled with sudden, relentless thrust as I said, "I'm fucking my little sister's—"

"No...!" was wailed. "Fuck, stop, it hurts, it hurts so much."

I immediately stopped, only to feel that the hole I'd been brutalizing was airtight again, and I felt guilty for being literally balls deep inside Katy as she squirmed in agony.

She was sobbing, "It's like you're stabbing me in half. Make it stop, please...!"

"Hun," I turned to my wife, who'd the vial in hand.

"Does baby want to be popped again?" this time her voice was vicious in its gentleness.

"Please, Miranda... Make the pain go away, I can't take it."

"But I thought my cuck-Kate liked it in her cucky-cunt?"

"Hey, don't fuck around! Can't you see she's really hurting? Give it to her already," I demanded, terrified in knowing that I was responsible for her turmoil.

"Finish," my wife instructed, ignoring the miserable creature and her torture.

"No, don't...!" she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "Please, stop, I'll do anything, please..."

"If you'll do anything, you'll let him finish inside you," the sadist informed Katy. "Now," her attention was relocated to me, "fuck her until her asshole is a disgusting mess."

"I can't..." as I said this, I felt like a hypocrite, since her compression upon my girth prompted me to throb uncontrollably. "Miranda, please, you're asking me to..." I was too afraid to even say it.

"I'll pop her," the brunette finally caved in, "but only on one condition."

"Anything," we agreed in absolute synchronicity.

"When you two are done, you get popped next," she was looking at me, "and then I get to have my way with you."

I didn't know if I could be Kate's martyr. Despite the fact I loved her dearly and wished to see her out of her misery, I knew Miranda would only opt to have me take her place. "But what would you do to me?" I had to know the terms before I blindly agreed.

"Whatever I want, including all the things I've asked to take from you over the years that you said no to."

"Please," Katy begged, her crying, red rimmed eyes staring into my soul, "do it, and I'll do anything. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Okay, let's make it interesting," the debauchee rubbed her chin. "It's no fun if there aren't any options, right? So, I'll give you a few choices. You either finish in her now, no poppers, and there are no consequences other than her suffering. Or, I pop her, but then there are two possible outcomes. You either sniff our little friend here," she held up the brown container, "or you cum in her pussy."

"But she'd get pregnant," I reminded her.

"That's the risk," the dark haired devil informed me, "and that's what makes it fun. If it's not risky, then what's the point?"

"You have to do it; you can't let her have control over you like that. I won't get pregnant. It'll be okay, I promise."

"Katy, no, but that—"

"I'm telling you to do it," she was gnashing her teeth, her knuckles white from clawing into her own palms.

"I'd rather her humiliate and defile me than take that chance," my decision was made.

The blonde protested, but she was granted the vial and became docile. I pulled out and expected to receive it next, but was disconcerted when Miranda narrowly avoided me. She found the girl's panties on the floor, and I took a step back when I saw she poured some of the liquid out into the crotch. Her intention was to give me a high dosage in a piece of cloth as though it were chloroform. Before I could do anything about it, she lunged in my direction, and although I tried to resist, the fact that all she needed to do was put it to my face meant she was soon lowering me to the floor.

I suddenly felt dizzily high, the rush mentioned before like an overwhelming euphoria. My every pore was open, alive, and relaxed, and despite the fact the carpet did little to soften the floorboards beneath, I was on a bed of velvet and feathers. In the same way my lightweight wife had been rendered utterly vulnerable, I was motionless, yet only because I felt a blissful compulsion not to move, even though I probably could've if I could somehow fight the urge telling me not to.

"I know I said you'd only get your cucky-cunt fucked from now on, baby-Kate," I heard the woman who drugged me tending to my sibling, "but these are special circumstances... You are so gullible," she told me, towering then over my body with the girl by her side. "What did you think would happen, huh, Hun? The obvious fear I imagine you had would be that I'd ass-fuck you, but I don't think dominating you that way would tickle my fancy. No, I knew you wouldn't want to risk impregnating your sister, but it was stupid of you to let me put you in a situation where you wouldn't be able to stop it from happening."

"No..." I murmured in the stead of a shout.

"Yes," she put her bare foot to my chin and forcibly coaxed me into nodding. "Come on, just think about how hot it's going to be when your sister's tummy swells up and you two have to walk around knowing it's your seed fermenting inside her. And then, when your mom starts asking her questions, the entire time it'll be so awkward because all she'll be thinking about is how wrong it is that her own brother knocked her up."

"Miranda, no, you can't do this."

"But you're harder than a rock and there's no one to stop me. I mean," my wife paused, kissing Katy on the cheek before continuing with, "how am I going to be able to prevent this sweet thing from pouncing on the opportunity to fuck her big brother, who she loves so, so much? I'm giving her permission to have him all to herself—oh baby, that's a good girl," she rewarded the blonde by petting the crown of her head as she mounted me, having been already seduced by the woman's wicked words. "Sit down on it—yeah, honey, just like that. Mm, look at that shit, babe. Look at that beautiful cock slide right into that pussy. Fuck, that's so hot, she's swallowing its every inch like the greedy little incest-whore she is. Go on, cup-Kate," Miranda had her by the hips, assisting her as she started to stride, "start fucking that dick like you were born to do. That's it, keep going—goddamn, I don't have to tell you to go harder, do I? Oh, Mommy's precious princess," the brunette gasped, "we're going to put a baby in your belly."

"Kate, stop—"

"Oh god," my sister took the hand I went to futilely push her away with and locked our fingers together, holding securely, "I... I... Ugh, he feels so good inside me." She looked me right in the eye, "I love you... and... Fuck it, I don't even care. I don't even care if my brother gets my pregnant. I have to feel your incestuous cum inside my cunt."

"Soon, too, love," my diabolical spouse was kissing below Katy's ear while fondling her DD-cup breasts over her shirt and bra. "The poppers have no doubt made him so sensitive that he'll pop inside his sissy's snatch at any moment."

"Please," I tried to persuade them, faintly squirming from the realization that I was about to—

"Oh god, I can feel him, he's—"

Miranda stood, using my sibling's shoulders as leverage to do so, pushing her as far down as physically possible and holding her there. As a biological response, I was lightly thrusting and grinding up into that slot which hotly and wetly seized me in its depth. Even though I was trying to force my body to stop, I pulsed and pulsed until my scrotum ached, realizing that, after it was over, every droplet had been offered to my blood relative's cervix.

"I can feel it so deep inside me," Katy marveled, hand caressing her abdomen. "It's almost like I can feel that I'm pregnant already."

"Mommy's baby girl," cooed the demoness, smothering my sister's stomach in kisses, "you're going to have a baby growing in your belly. Now hop up, I want to see it."

Miranda helped the girl stand, my prick falling from her orifice to lie half-erect and sopping on my thigh. Having Kate part her labia with her fingertips, the brunette investigated her crotch, and we both saw the translucent sperm start to peek from the canal's pink threshold. I realized at that moment that one of my greatest fears had indeed manifested itself.

"Shit, that's a nasty cream-pie," my wife exclaimed. "Look at that filling, Hun. That'll definitely impregnate her. But," her eyes fell upon me and I knew her plot wasn't over yet, "to spice things up..." She went to her purse and pulled out the bottle I recognized to be her birth control, opening the lid to obtain a single tablet. "This—stick out your tongue for me, dear—that's a good girl..." She put the pill into Katy's mouth, and then continued elaborating upon her schemes, "As I was saying, this will be our insurance. Now, it's not definite—and what fun would that be if it was?—but it'll give you the slightest peace of mind, rest assured. Swallow, cup-Kate," and the girl did as she was told. "Now...

"We play the waiting game to see whether or not the pill can kick in before she starts incubating your incest-baby."



The Nasty Wife Pt. 07-08



Pt. 07

The first thing I did after gaining bodily control was press my palms into my eyes and swear, laying on my back still and unable to believe the insidious circumstance I found myself in. The two women, the blonder of the two being bottomless with ejaculate dribbling down her leg, loomed overhead, the brunette thoroughly enjoying my misfortune. Periodically, I would remove my hands, though only so I could stare at my sister's crotch and the horrible implication that was the viscid, white seepage in which it dripped.

"Miranda, I can't believe you'd do this to me..."

"What's the matter, Hun?" she mocked. "You know that I'm infertile, and I was thinking today that maybe we should just get a surrogate, so... here we are."

"But it's Kate, it's my sister!"

"What, you don't like the idea of a sissy surrogate? Come on, love, you don't think the idea of her and your DNA running around would be cute?"

"I love you," I informed her, struggling to get my gelatinous knees to hoist me up from the carpeted floorboards, "but I think you've gone too far this time. I don't know if I can forgive you for this..."

"You will in time," Miranda ignored the girl who looked to her with panic. "When you finally come around," she touched Katy's stomach, "you'll be glad I did this, I promise. I did it for the both of us, for all three of us, and things will be so much better this way."

I pulled off my tie but went to the coat rack to fetch my jacket.

"Where are you going?" my wife tried to stand in my way. "Hey, we're having a family moment here, you can't just leave."

"I'm going to the pharmacy to get some 'morning after' pills or whatever the hell they're called," I said. "There's no way I am letting this happen without trying to do something about it first."

"Don't be like that—"

"No, Miranda, this is the worst conceivable thing. Fine, my sister and I have some weird incestuous relationship, and I feel pretty disgusted with myself about it, but this is the reason incest is a taboo in the first place. What, do you expect I'll just calmly watch my sister get fat and pregnant knowing that it's my fault? No, it's not even my fault, it's your fault, and I am unfathomably pissed at you for doing something like this to me."

"Are you done yet?" she'd her arms crossed, my sibling standing behind her with her head hung low.

"You know..." I began, too furious not to say it, even if I didn't entirely mean what was about to come out of my mouth. "These last few days have really been making me seriously think about our relationship."

"What's that supposed to mean?" her hands were on her hips now, grimacing, her eyes cold beneath those thick frames.

"The person who'd do this sort of thing to me isn't the person I married."

With neither pause nor delay, she held out her palm expectantly, "Give me your ring, then."

"Miranda—"

Katy had tried to intervene, her expression worried, but she was stopped. I looked down at that gold band and contemplated pulling it off, though I couldn't. The fantasy of throwing it in her evil fucking face was satisfying, but I realized that it was a bluff, that my love for her would survive even if this surreal nightmare was a reality I'd have to live with and accept.

"Then," she went for her diamond, but I grabbed her wrist the moment her fingers touched it. "What, Hun? This was what you were implying, wasn't it?"

"Babe, stop, I take it back..." I announced after a sigh.

"If you want your ring back," she smiled and reached into the bra beneath her blouse, pulling out a triangular, alien object and handing it to me, "then take it."

It was rubbery, wet, and grotesque. I'd no idea what it was, but it looked almost like an oddly shaped suction cup with the back cut out. "What the hell is this?" I asked as I investigated the bizarre thing.

Miranda nodded to Kate, who held a blonde bang away from her face as she looked down and, with her opposite hand, began to reach up inside her vagina and dig for something. I watched in absolute confusion until she finally got a grip on whatever it was, and then, like a lubricious, slimy snakeskin, she pulled out a flimsy tube from the inside of her womb. It was so long and kept coming and coming, until it eventually, with a weak plop, fell from her parted thighs, and she held it up for me to see. In its deepest regions was the murky deposit I thought I'd left for her cervix.

"I had to cut the ring off," I was informed by my smiling, estranged spouse, "so it wouldn't be so obvious."

"So she—"

"I was wearing a lady condom," my sister laughed. "You fell for it pretty hard, too. You should've seen the look on your face, it was priceless."

"I'm really sorry," I apologized to Miranda, regretting terribly everything I'd said to her.

"Don't be," she guffawed, unaffected. "It segued nicely into our reveal."

"I am the biggest fool to ever live..."

"Maybe in the top ten, but I wouldn't say the biggest," my wife jested before kissing me, a gesture I returned. "Mm, babe, you being so angry has gotten me all hot."

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Katy held up the contraceptive, eyeing it with disgust.

"You aren't going to eat it?" she was teased.

"Wait, wait, wait," I interrupted their shenanigans. "She was home with me before you got here... You planned this?"

"Yup," the coed confirmed, "in the car on the way to the campus, we devised this little scheme together."

"And it worked out better than I imagined it would," Miranda added, locking her arms around my neck. "You were absolutely furious... and, of course, frightened. We had you shaking in your boots."

"Yeah, and—ah, gross, why's the carpet wet?" Kate recoiled after taking a step.

We looked at the visible circles of dampness before seeing the culprit. The end of the condom was dribbling from the tiniest hole... As we talked, it had leaked out onto the floor without our noticing.

"Oh fuck," the brunette was the first to break the agonizing silence. "The fucking thing," she took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, her voice more aggravated than scared, "has a fucking goddamn hole in it..."

"Does this mean I'm actually pregnant?" the blonde was shaking, as was I, though not as much as she.

"Well, uh... Come over to the couch," my wife ushered the girl to the aforementioned location and sat her down. "Now, spread your legs, I'll cup my hand beneath your vagina like this, and squeeze as hard as you can. Keep doing it. Shit, I think I can see something crowning," I wasn't watching anymore by this point, and then things got dreadfully quiet.

A wordless woman put her hand on my shoulder, and I turned to see that she'd a palm full of seminal fluids.

"This is another trick, right?" I naively hoped.

Miranda was pale, and Kate was on her side crying, hugging a pillow.

"I'll take her to the doctor in a week or so," my spouse's voice was grave. "The morning after pill you were talking about before, that's not even worth looking into. I think I still have some pregnancy tests left over from when we were trying, so when we know for sure, I'll take her to... take care of it."

"Oh my god," groaned the sobbing thing on the sofa, "I was telling you to cum inside me and to get me pregnant and everything... but then it happened for real."

"What do we do now?" I panicked. "And what about the birth control she took?"

"That was just for show. Since she hasn't been taking it regularly, and since she took it right after it happened, she'll get pregnant either way. But, uh, for now we just see what happens and take it as it comes."

"Shit," I nervously laughed, shaking my head. "You realize this is literally only the first day of her living here with us, right? One day, that's all it took for something like this to happen."

"Don't worry, Hun," my beloved hugged me. "We'll get through this. I'll take care of it, I promise."

"But what if I don't want it 'taken care of'?" I felt Miranda involuntarily latch her fingernails into my shoulder and back upon hearing my sister ask such a thing. "I mean, it's my body, and maybe I'm not comfortable with getting a... you know."

"Kate," the brunette turned to the potentially pregnant college girl, "this isn't a joke now. You can't keep this thing if—"

"But what if I did keep it, huh? I want to hear what that scenario will be like before I even consider getting it aborted."

"They'd eventually do a DNA test to find out who the father is. Assuming there are no complications in the pregnancy, and assuming it is born without any abnormalities, they'd take it away after realizing it's your brother's. You wouldn't be able to keep it. That's the best case scenario, too. If it's born horribly disfigured or retarded, then, even if you are allowed to raise it, it would be... well, yeah..."

Kate insisted, not grasping the situation, "What about if we had it here, then?"

"Are you seriously—"

"None of us know how to deliver a baby," my wife interrupted, "and, even if we did, I doubt you're going to convince either of us into letting you keep that thing. Yeah, it's your body, it'll be your fetus, but it's his—as in your brother, my husband's—sperm. I'll hoover it out myself with a vacuum cleaner if I have to, but you're not—"

"I'll run away, then," the emotional blonde threatened.

"And go where, to your mother's, who will eventually ask questions when your stomach starts to bloat? No, we're the only people not judging you here—"

"Except you're judging me in my decision to keep it..." tears streamed down her cheeks, her face ugly from crying, as she clutched herself.

"Kate, think about what you're saying for a second. For fuck's sake, think about the situation we're going to be in because of this..." I pleaded.

"I am thinking about it, and this is what I feel is right."

"If any of us were concerned with what was 'right'," Miranda announced, "then I doubt you'd be having sex with your brother in the first place, yeah?"

"I'm keeping it," Katy declared, wiping her red face and puffy eyes, "and, if you don't like that, then I'm leaving and I won't be coming back."

"The door's right fucking there, then, isn't it?" my bitter spouse pointed to it.

After a pause and a snivel, the blonde slipped into her denim skirt and went for her shoes. I grabbed her arm as I realized she actually planned on leaving, saying, "Kate, wait..."

"What do you want?"

"Don't go," I begged. "...You can keep it, just stay."

"Excuse me?" my beloved gasped, unable to believe what I'd just said, and neither could I.

My sister suddenly hugged me, holding me tight, and vowed, "I'll take good care of it, I promise."

"I know," I repeated a few times reluctantly, finally wrapping my arms around her in return.

"Fine, I'll let you have your little fucked up incest-baby," Miranda's voice was vicious, "but only on one condition. I get to tell your mother."

"Do it," was Katy's response after a moment of silence, where I was too dumbstruck to say anything. "I don't even care anymore. This is what I care about now, and if you think that's going to change my mind, you'll be real surprised when you find out that it won't."

"No...!" I dashed to the brunette, who already had the house phone in her hand. "You can't, Miranda, that'd only make things ten times worse. Are you crazy?"

Because Mom's number was the first on speed dial, in two prompt movements I could hear it ringing. "She already made her choice," she said, before there was a click, someone now on the other end of the line. "Gaby...? Yeah, hey, it's Miranda."

"Don't," I commanded. "If you do this to me, I'll leave you."

"You don't have the balls," and she was right. "Kate's pregnant," she announced into the transmitter, "and I'm staring at the son of a bitch who did it right now."

I could hear my mother's voice on the other end freaking out. "What have you done?" I staggered backward, my world crashing down around me.

"Who is it?" she repeated the question asked to her from the receiver. "I don't know how to put this gently, Gabrielle, but it's your son."

Although I'd lunged to snatch the device from her hand, she dodged out of the way and those fateful words fell from her lips. I stopped, defeated, and I could hear silence emanating from both sides. Then, there was a garbled response that I couldn't hear and the call ended.

"She said she's on her way now," I was told.

"You really did it..." my sister exclaimed, as aghast as I. "Miranda, what have you done?"

"You told me I could," was her reply as the phone was returned to its place. "You shouldn't have—"

"I thought you were bluffing!"

"Babe, our lives are over now," I said. "You realize that, right?"

"Maybe," she was surprisingly nonchalant, situating her glasses, "but it's already done, so there's no use fussing about it."

"Oh god," I contemplated killing myself, though I knew Mom would do it for me when she arrived. "What are we going to do?"

"Perhaps it'd be best if we just came clean," Katy suggested. "You know, that way the punishment isn't as severe..."

"I think there will be hell to pay regardless of whether or not you confess," the woman who'd done this to us was right.

Miranda and I fought about it until the dreaded car pulled into our driveway. I didn't bother leaving my chair as I heard our doom's arrival. The wife verified it was her after glancing out the window, and Kate was in the fetal position on the couch. An eternity I wished it'd take for her to reach the door, but it was opened all too soon. I couldn't look up at her as my mother entered, and, just by looking at our sorry states, she knew at once that it was true.

"For the love of god, kids, what have you done?" Mom scolded us under her breath. "Ugh," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Just tell me what happened, and I'll try to postpone being upset until I start to understand."

My guilty sibling and I looked at each other, but neither of us knew where or how to begin.

"You two have been having sex, then?" we were asked an answer that was self-evident in hopes that it'd initiate an explanation.

"Yes," I responded, staring at the floor.

"...With each other?" and my response was the same. "So... who started it, you or her?"

"It was me," the blonde confessed, sitting up and as shamed as I. "I came onto him, I guess, even though he didn't want it... at first."

"Dear lord, Katy," the woman sat beside her daughter, her hand over her mouth in shock. "I can't believe you'd do something like that..."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"And, uh," she saw the contraceptive on the floor, "you tried using protection, at least, it looks like. How'd you get... you know, then?"

"It must've torn," I coughed awkwardly before finishing my sentence, "inside her."

"So this just happened?"

"Yes, ma'am..." we both answered.

"This explains why you two were acting so weird the other day," the middle-aged brunette shook her head. "Katy, let's get you cleaned up. It'll give us a chance to talk about this more in private."

They left for the bathroom, leaving Miranda and myself alone. The suspense was killing me, but she eventually came to my side and touched my hand. I took hers into mine, despite the fact I thought I hated her at that moment, and my anger started to diminish as my wife's presence proved itself to be nonetheless consoling.

"What do you think is going to happen after they get back?" I was asked.

"I don't know, but I'm scared to death at the thought of finding out."

"Hey, Hun, it'll be alright. You know I'll always be here for you," she informed me, touching my face with tenderness and compassion.

"You're responsible for this," I told her, though I wasn't capable of being angry anymore. "Just tell me why you'd do something like this."

"Because, when your mom finally reaches the point where she realizes we have to do something about it, she'll pressure her into getting an abortion. I did this because it's our way out. Otherwise, we'd probably be driving around town looking for your runaway sister."

And I understood her intentions, despite the fact I still disagreed with her actions.

Katy entered and returned to the sofa, Mom at the hallway's threshold, looking at the remaining two deviants.

"I want to talk to you," my mother declared. "No, not the both of you," she clarified when my spouse had started trailing me, "just him."

We went to the nearest empty room, the door securely shut after our entry. There I would be interrogated, and I knew Miranda would be next. It was like being a kid again, where each of us would be questioned, and then a conclusion would be drawn based on our individual confessions.

"Tell me what happened from the beginning and I promise not to get mad."

"Do you want the whole truth or just the partial truth?"

"I'm assuming what your sister just told me wasn't the partial truth," she frowned.

"Well... Kate heard Miranda and I having an intimate moment, I guess, and then confronted me about it the next day. We talked and things got kind of weird, until she was suddenly on top of me, and we were kissing. That was Sunday afternoon, so you came home and almost caught us. Miranda had already figured it out, and she's the one who decided we should go out. We didn't go to the movies, as I'm guessing Katy already told you. We went to a hotel and we... well, we had sex. Then, when we came back home, Kate was upset because we were leaving, so she almost told you, but Miranda offered to let her live here with us. After that, we fooled around a bit more, until tonight where the condom broke and she had my... I don't have to say it, do I?"

"No," the woman had been intently listening. "But you're not leaving anything out, are you...?" she looked at me with baleful anticipation.

"I don't think so," I lied.

"Your sister told me about the panties," Mom confronted me.

"What panties...?" my heart felt as though it would stop any second.

"Mine," she clarified, "and then she told me about the photo album as well."

Unable to look at her, I had nothing to say.

"But," she went on, "Kate told me that those two incidents, or whatever you'd like to call them, happened because of Miranda. Is this true?"

"Yes, ma'am," I confirmed my sibling's story.

"But you having... sex with your sister," neither of us wanted to hear it aloud, "that's not Miranda's fault, is it?"

"No, ma'am..."

"But it's not your fault either, it seems. Katy made it very clear that she pressured you into it and not the other way around."

"Mom, if she really does get pregnant, she wants to keep it."

"She told me."

"We can't let her, right?" I was hoping she would, like my wife had said before, be on our side.

"I've already made up my mind, but I want to talk to Miranda first. Go get her," she instructed, "and then wait with Katy until we're done."

Hesitant, I left. When I entered the living room, both females were immediately staring in my direction. After informing my spouse that she was next in line, she joined my mother as I went to sit beside my sibling on the couch. A few awkward minutes passed before we even looked at one another. Then, at last, the silence was broken.

"I told her everything," she confessed, "about us, about Miranda, about her, everything."

"I know, she told me."

"And what did you tell her?"

"Pretty much the same thing, I guess, more or less."

"This means we're not going to be together anymore, doesn't it?"

"I don't think she's going to trust us ever again, especially with each other. So, no, I think things will be pretty much over between us after this."

"While we still have time, will you kiss me?" my sister pleaded. "I want to have you while you're still somewhat mine."

Knowing how much it'd mean to her, I agreed to her request. I leaned over and she'd already her arms about me. When our lips met, she was grasping firmly the back of my head, her other hand alternating between resting at my neck and face. Those full lips would not depart, and instead baited me into kiss after kiss, until I was almost on top of her. In the intervals of our passionate entwine, she told me she loved me, and I, lost in the moment, captivated by sensuality and sensation, said it back.




The Nasty Wife Pt. 07-08



"Thanks," Kate cooed once we were both out of breath, "for finally saying it."

We situated ourselves, though she slipped her hand into mine. Neither of us let go until Miranda's return. Separating after that, there were four of us now, including our mother, and the time had come.

"I know you and Miranda want Katy to have an abortion," the woman began, "but we agree that it's unethical." Before my wife and I could recover from hearing this, she continued, "While inbreeding certainly isn't right either, if she really does get pregnant, then it's already done. Because I've been a nurse for god knows how many years now, I've decided that I'll deliver the baby at home. However, if she doesn't get pregnant, and let's all pray that she doesn't, I never want to be put in a situation like this again. Are we clear on that?"

"But she can't keep it," the younger brunette exclaimed. "Gabrielle, it's incest, it's her brother's baby. There's absolutely no way I'm letting her go through with this."

"I already know that, Miranda, but it's her decision, and I also happen to agree with her. You can't make her have an abortion, and I won't let you try."

"Gaby," the pleading persisted, "it'd be my husband's child..."

"You should've thought of that before you condoned the two of them having sex."

"What happens now?" I inquired after that silenced my spouse.

"I'm taking Kate home with me, and then I'm going to help her through her pregnancy, if she does in fact get pregnant, and... Well, we'll see from there, won't we?"

"But..." my sister spoke up, "I want to stay here with them. Mom, I don't want to go."

"Are you saying that you don't want to live with me again, or are you saying that you don't want to—ugh, I can't believe I'm about to say this—break up with your brother?"

"Both, Mom," there wasn't even a delay in the response. "Whatever this looks like, I promise it's not as bad as it seems. Miranda may be a little crazy sometimes—"

"Hey!—"

"—but I trust her. Actually, I trust both of them, and they make me happy. I know it's technically wrong, because not only is it a married man and his wife, it's also my brother, but... Well, I care about them, and I know they both care about me. If I go home with you, what do you think is going to happen? Every day is going to be awkward, where you won't be able to look at me as I get fat, bloated, and pregnant, and then I won't even be able to leave the house because you'll be so ashamed of me. Even though they hate the idea of me going through with this pregnancy, I know I am better off here, because at least they won't alienate me over it."

"You're not going to stop having sex, though, are you...?"

"Probably not," Kate confirmed our mother's greatest fear, "but the worst has already happened, hasn't it? The worst that could've happened was that he'd get me pregnant, and now it looks like I might as well start buying maternity clothes, yeah? What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that it doesn't matter anymore. I know this probably looks like the most horrible thing in the world, but... Things can only get brighter after they're the darkest, right?"

"Let's pretend that he's not your brother, my son," Mom said after contemplating it for a moment. "He's a married man, and what happened the other day, where you were absolutely heartbroken, where you were crying your eyes out, can and will happen again, only much, much worse. Is Miranda going to stand for you stealing her husband away? I can look at her right now and see the answer is no. Kate, sweetheart, don't put yourself in a situation like this. There are an infinite number of men out there, single men who you don't share the same last name as yet, and—"

"But I love him, Mom. No, I'm in love with him, and I am willing to take as much of him as Miranda is willing to share with me. I don't want other men when there's already one that I need. I'm sorry that our relationship is incest, I'm sorry that it's also adultery, but this is how I feel and... You know what? The only reason I want to keep this baby is because it's his."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," the middle-aged woman was more apathetic than anything. "Miranda, shouldn't you have a say in this, at least? If we're going to humor this lunacy, I mean..."

There was a pause and then my wife said, "Gabrielle... You know I'm infertile. We tried for the longest time before finally giving up, and... What do you think the chances are that she'll have a normal pregnancy and a healthy baby?"

"I honestly don't know..."

"I'm willing to take the risk. I mean, it's already happening, right? She can keep it, but only as long as it's just as much mine as it is hers."

"You realize this is polygamy, right?" my mother questioned rhetorically. "Husband sharing, I am pretty sure it's called..."

"Polygamy? Definitely," Miranda adjusted her glasses, grinning. "But maybe you don't understand our relationship. You see, she's not his, she's mine."

"I give up," Mom declared. "This is way too much for me to handle, and way more than I cared to find out. You're adults, you can do whatever you want, I guess, but I just ask that you exclude me from it. I love you all," she'd walked to the door, opening it, "and keep me updated on Kate's... condition, but I'd like to try and forget this, if you don't mind. When you guys come around, pretend you're still keeping it a secret. I don't want to hear about it, I certainly don't want to see it, and just... Be safe, okay?"

After the most awkward goodbye of all time, she was gone. We each looked at each other in silence as we listened to her pull out and drive off. I announced that I wanted to take a shower to clear my head, and walked to the bedroom. No one followed, so I put some clothes together. Before I went to bathe, however, I realized I'd left my suit and tie in the living room. I stopped in the hallway and didn't make my presence known as I heard voices.

"You should've warned me beforehand that you poked a hole in it," I heard Miranda say, trying not to speak too loudly. "I'm assuming that was you, at least."

"You kept telling me how great it'd be when it finally happened, so I couldn't wait any longer."

"But you should've told me, cup-Kate. You really put me in a bad spot here. But hey," her tone became warm, "I told you that, if we got you pregnant, your mom would deliver it, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did," Katy purred. "Mm, I can't believe I'm going to be a mommy."

"My little girl is going to have a baby in her belly."

"What do you think it'll be? God, I hope it's a girl."

I couldn't eavesdrop any longer. Without showering, I went to my room, rolled into bed, pulled the covers over my face, and closed my eyes with no intention of ever opening them again.

Pt. 08

"Come on, Hun, you don't have to stand outside," Miranda held the bathroom door open, gesturing me inwards. "We're all family here."

It was Friday, and Katy had begged to take a pregnancy test every day of the week until the wife finally agreed. We'd both gotten off work, and the moment was upon us. I was hesitant to enter with my sister sitting on the toilet, the white stick between her thighs, with her pants at her knees, but I didn't have much of a choice. The three of us waited, my spouse and sibling giggling while exchanging giddy looks, though my eyes I diverted. Noting my discomfort, Kate decided to tease me.

"You're so gross, watching your sister pee," yet she hadn't even done it yet. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Hurry up," I pressured her, loitering in the doorway. "This is the weirdest thing in the world."

"Ugh," she gasped, blushing, "you're so gross."

"You're gross," I playfully retorted.

"I love you," Katy looked to me kindly, and I, kicking gently at a tile on the floor, repeated it back to her.

"Did my sweetheart get enough to drink?" the brunette inquired, caressing the girl's face, when she realized we'd probably been in there five or so minutes already.

"Yeah, I drank like two bottles of water—"

Suddenly, I could hear flowing liquid and knew immediately she'd begun. My sister excitedly held the test out of view beneath herself, and the obstruction in her stream's pathway was audible. I coughed and fidgeted, not really wanting to be present, but Miranda was leaning on my shoulder as if marveling a beautiful moment. Whilst they had no idea that I knew of their schemes, they certainly weren't shy or subtle about their zeal and enthusiasm. Perhaps they didn't really care whether or not I was onto them, only focusing on the fact they'd succeeded in getting their way.

She finished, and the urine soaked rod she openly investigated, my wife joining her in doing so. Since the results weren't visible yet, the device was leisurely shaken, and I didn't really understand how that would help the process, but I said nothing. Then, at last, their foreheads were pressed together as they looked down at the thing with pride. I already knew what it said, but my sibling tried to hand it to me so I could see for myself anyway.

"I don't want your pee stick," I joked in an attempt to delay the inevitable.

"Just look at it, babe..." her voice was so soft and precious.

Making sure that I held the end not saturated from my sister's urination, I stared at the pink plus. It was prominent and bold, and, just as I feared, she was pregnant. Sliding the pregnancy test onto the counter by the sink, I shoved a hand in my pocket and wasn't sure what to do or say.

"Okay, now it really is gross that you're in the bathroom with your sister," Kate waved me to leave, which I happily did, accompanied by my elated partner.

"What do you think, Hun?" the woman inquired as we walked from the hallway and into the den.

"I think she's really going to have a baby..."

"You don't sound very excited about it," she deduced from my obvious indifference.

"I'm sorry," there was nothing else I could've said.

"You know this is a good thing, right? You don't remember all the times we tried and then all the nights I couldn't sleep because it just wouldn't happen?"

"I remember, Miranda."

"Then this is what we've been wanting since forever, right, babe?" she hugged me, the crown of her head at my chin.

"But what would you do if there's something wrong with it?" my concern was legitimate, but the genuine reason for my distress was different.

"It'll be fine," I was assured. "There's a risk, yeah, but think of how commonplace incest used to be. Just because something could happen doesn't mean that it will."

"I can't believe it," Kate exclaimed as she joined us. "I'm pregnant," was then declared as the two girls proceeded to spaz out. "Should I call Mom?"

"That's probably not the best idea," I insisted.

"Why not...?"

"She doesn't share your attitude about it, I think."

"Don't you mean our attitude?" my sister asked.

"Look, it's whatever makes you happy, okay? But please don't ask me to share your sentiments. Mom agrees with you because of her morality, Miranda does because she's, well, Miranda, and then that leaves me... who never really switched sides."

"Babe, you're ruining the moment," my wife informed me. "Come on, this is a wondrous event and we should be celebrating. I'd suggest champagne, but our mommy-to-be here shouldn't really partake. Besides, twenty years old, you've still got another year, missy. Maybe shortly after you deliver, huh?"

"But I want to know why he doesn't want this," the blonde brought the conversation back around.

"I think the same reason it's always been, I guess."

"You don't like it because we're related, then?"

"Yeah, and the fact you're my baby sister. When you were born, I was old enough to hold you. That's the only thing I can think about as all this happens..."

"...I've never really thought about it. Wow, that's... Well, I don't know what to say."

"I haven't really asked about stuff like this before," my spouse began, "but what were you two like as kids?"

"I got in trouble and he watched out for me," Katy's response perfectly summed it up. "And I'd always hang out with my dorky friends and he'd have to keep an eye on us. Man, it's almost like it was a dream. You know, from how long ago it was."

"They were innocent times," I shrugged.

"Not really," my sister wiped away a bang that'd been obscuring her view. "I knew then what I know now, that I am madly in love with you. I've always been obsessed. The only difference now is that you know about it. Remember when I freaked out when you took that girl to a school dance, only to find out that you'd been dating her for months? Yeah... and then, when I asked you to prom, it wasn't because I didn't have anyone else to go with. I had a handful of guys I could've picked from, but I blew them off so I could ask you. God, I don't know how you never noticed the way I feel for you. Even though it took the entire night of begging, I got you to finally slow dance with me. You looked like such an awkward idiot, but it was so worth it."

"Wow, some of this stuff is even juicier than what he told me about his exes," Miranda joked.

"But then you got married and there were a few years where we hardly saw each other..."

"I hope there's no hard feelings between us, sweetheart. You know I'd never try to hurt you," the brunette touched at my sibling's face affectionately.

"Honestly, I think I hated you for a while, but then I just accepted it," she confessed. "I mean, he is my brother, so I didn't have many expectations beyond just being young and naïve."

"Does it bother you that you're my little cuckquean princess, then?"

"...Are you really asking, or...?"

"Don't be afraid to answer truthfully, baby girl, Mommy won't get mad at you."

"It bothers me a lot, then, actually."

"Aw, that's adorable," my wife kissed up her neck, then across her cheek, until their lips had united. "That reminds me, I have something for you. Do you want to wait here or come with Mommy as she goes to get it?"

"Ugh, not more surprises," groaned the blonde. "Just tell me what it is first, please."

Miranda led Kate by the hand toward our bedroom. I followed like a delayed shadow. Then, when we entered, the brunette went beside the bed and pulled something out from underneath. It was a plastic bag, but inside she revealed a harness with a phallic object protruding from its crotch. Being shown such a thing made the girl speechless, though I knew it was to be expected from how it was so frequently said that she planned on buying one, even if that didn't detract very much from the discomfort I felt.

"What does cup-Kate think?" the woman was already sliding down her skirt so that she could put the device on instead.

"It's a strap-on," was her stammered response.

"Mm, yes, now I can finally join in on the fun of fucking you. Isn't that wonderful?"

"But you wanted to do it... now?" Katy was intimidated by the fact my spouse was already wearing it, looking a little awkward with the harness over her panties, where she was otherwise fully dressed.

"Why not?" she unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a black bra, of which matched the rest of her underwear, firmly holding up her D-cup breasts. "Doesn't my little gay girl want to get fucked in a way only another girl can fuck her?"

"But in front of..." my sister looked to me.

"I don't think he'll have a problem with watching, sweetheart," and she was right, insofar as that I was apathetic to their lesbianism. "Why don't you take your clothes off for Mommy now and get on the bed, yeah?"

The coed did as she was instructed. Miranda admired her as she stripped, then, when she was unclothed, she crawled upon the mattress before turning around and laying on her back. It'd gotten easier to see her naked by this point, and I almost didn't have a sexual reaction from gazing at her nudity yet, but then my wife was between her thighs, kissing up from her naval to her chest. With great ardor, she latched onto the nipple of a DD-cup breast with her mouth and suckled as though she expected the pregnant girl to be lactating already. The blonde went weak, using her elbows to prop herself up to watch the woman adore her body with intimate touches and kisses. Her legs were spread wide, and I could see my sister's quivering hesitation as she withdrew from a hand that slowly glided from her knee and up her thigh. Just short of reaching her vulva, which was invisible to me because of the other female, the plastic erection was seized and directed to her cunny.

"It's cold," Kate exclaimed upon feeling the fake shaft penetrate her, her voice already breathy.

"And you're so hot inside, so it'll be warm in no time," she was told as I saw my wife gyrate her hips whilst sinking ever inward. "That's a good girl, taking Mommy's dick so deep."

"This is so weird," my sibling covered her face, but couldn't help but peek at the woman who started gradually thrusting into that place which made her legs writhe and her fingers curl.

"What's weird about it?" the brunette questioned in between the tender kisses she planted upon the blonde's shoulder blade.

"Being touched like this, feeling this way, and then looking over to see it's because of another girl..."

"Aw, my precious princess," my spouse held the curvaceous coed by the hips but nibbled coyly at her neck, "don't fight it. You're my darling little dyke, my luscious little lesbian."

"Oh god," Katy moaned, staring down at the thing which joined them as it was suddenly and intensely thrown again and again into her awaiting aperture. "But this—shit, ah, Miranda—being fucked by another girl, it really is gay..."

"Of course it's gay," the older female lunged as deeply as she could into my inert sister, though only so she could grate the phallus throughout her deepest of depth as they spoke, "you really are mine. In fact, sometimes I think about what it'd be like to prohibit you from men altogether and whore you out exclusively to women."

"Goddamn, Miranda," I swore while shaking my head, though with no further input.

"Please don't," swooned my sexually confused sibling. "I'm not even sure I actually like—as in like-like—other girls..."

"But you're so wet," and my wife was right, since her every movement was accompanied by a lubricious squelch.

"Because it feels so good," Kate was squirming where she lay, "but I don't think I'm really attracted to women like... sexually or romantically for real."

"Oh, honey, that's just because you've never gotten to properly explore a woman. I guarantee that you'd never think about another man again if you had a girlfriend to experiment with."

"But I like men..." by this time their coupling had ceased, though they were still entwined.

"Sweetheart," Miranda stroked her cheek and peered sweetly into the girl's hazel eyes, "if you're going to be a woman's pet, you need to be attracted to women in the first place. Do you want me to help you?"

"I don't think I want this," a choked voice announced. "Miranda, I don't mind fooling around together, but you really expect me to turn gay for you. I'm comfortable with my sexuality, and I don't like feeling the way you confuse me."

"Are you telling me that you've never had a girl-crush before?"

"Well, I mean..." Katy blushed.

"Here, let me take this off," the wife removed herself from Kate, stood upon her knees, unbuttoned one of the straps, and easily disrobed the harness. "It's obviously too advanced for you right now. Besides, since it is a dick, more or less, I think using it at this point in time will only make you think about icky boys. Now," she returned to that spot reserved for her between the blonde's parted thighs, grinding her vulva teasingly against the other female's, wrapping her legs around one of Katy's, "what is your favorite part of a woman, huh?"

"Miranda, she said she didn't want this. Please, just leave her be, okay? Aren't things crazy enough already?"




The Nasty Wife Pt. 07-08



"Hush," I was silenced. "She'll love this; she just doesn't know it yet."

"Their hair, I guess?" my sibling confusedly answered. "I don't know, Miranda, I don't think about girls this way. Come on—"

"Women do have long, beautiful hair, don't they? Mm, tell me, what else? I want you to describe the girl of your secret lesbian wet dreams."

"...God..." the coed shuddered. "You're so smooth rubbing up against me... it's so wrong."

"Cup-Kate, what do you notice first when you see a pretty girl? You can do it, love, just tell Mommy. I promise there's nothing wrong with being gay, so just accept that it's okay and tell me what about a woman makes you hot. There has to be something about us that makes your pretty pussy drip..."

"Well... I guess girls do smell prettier, and body hair is kind of gross. Their clothes are a little nicer, and then their features are sort of warmer, softer..."

"That's it, princess," my sister's temptation was rewarded by kind words and loving caresses. "Have you ever tried to touch yourself thinking about another girl before?"

"...No."

"It's never too late to start," Miranda placed Katy's hand at her vulva as she urged her to masturbate. "Go ahead, look at my body, play with yourself, and I'll fill your head full of scrumptiously Sapphic thoughts."

"Can I ask you a serious question?" the blonde interrupted the current shenanigans.

"Uh, well, yeah, of course..." blinking from behind her glasses, the woman was taken by surprise.

"What if you suggested something and I said no? Like... what if I said no and meant it for real, would you even stop?"

"It depends on what it was."

"Can you please explain to me what its dependent on, then, Miranda?"

"If I told you to think about pussy when masturbating, only for you to refuse, I would finger-fuck you with my cunt in your face until you came thinking only lesbian thoughts. But... if I asked you to do something dangerous for you to say no to, I wouldn't make you do it. If it exceeds my control, then no is no, but, if the situation is in my hands, it doesn't matter what you say, does it?"

"...I don't want to be a lesbian, Miranda. Can't you respect that maybe I have a bi curiosity, but that it doesn't go farther than that?"

"No. I respect that you have my baby in your belly, but you're mine. I own you. If I decide you only fuck girls, you only fuck girls. If I decide to ruin your snatch with my fist, it's going to be ruined. Hasn't this already been established, Katy dear? You're my property. I'm nice, though, because I'm your mommy and not your mistress, because you got pregnant by someone you love and not an absolute stranger, and because I kiss instead of smack you. Now, don't think I am trying to threaten you, because I wouldn't and I'm not, but it could be worse. Let's face the facts. I'm a deviant, so I think with my passions, a language spoken only by my warped perversions. I have nasty thoughts, too, and they don't float around in my brain, they float around where I actually think from, my cunt.

"What I'm trying to say... Is that your complaint is bullshit. I'm trying to get you to frig off thinking about the female anatomy. Do you understand how tame that is, Kate? I can already conceive something far, far worse."

Turning slowly at her clitoris, my intimidated sister did what was requested of her. "Okay, Miranda... just tell me your thoughts."

"No, cup-Kate," she was scolded, regardless of her compliance. "If that was a test, you failed. I don't have to explain myself to you. When you hear me, you've heard me. I don't stutter, so you don't hesitate. What's happening now is this: I'm going to sit on your face, you're going to sniff my fuck-hole, and then you're going to finger yourself while you tell me how great it smells."

"But what if I said no?" it was a good time for me to speak up.

"What?" the brunette cackled. "It doesn't matter what you say, she's mine to do as I please."

"But if she's yours, then that makes you mine, doesn't it? I'm assuming that would give me the final authority, would it not?"

"If you seriously want to get into this..." my spouse parted from my sibling and advanced in my direction before sitting at the edge of the bed, facing me. "You'd have to do something that proves you have it in you to own me. Yeah, maybe we're married, but everyone who knows us knows that I'm the dominant one, that they come to me for what I say, not you. You're mine until you do something that makes me respect you."

"You don't respect me, then?" I glared at her.

"Well... I do, though only as a person and not as an animal, which is what I am."

"How would I go about doing that?"

"You have to do something so carnal and obscene that I can't help but acknowledge you. Not only that, however, but it has to be infinitely worse than anything I'm capable of. You see, then, that it's impossible, right? I am a beast, carnal and ferocious, while you are a boy I won't even give the chance to cry wolf."

After a moment of thinking, staring at the woman who thought she'd bested me already, I announced, "If you cuckquean my sister, how about I cuckquean you?"

"Good effort, but you can't break your marriage vows. Besides, unless you... well, unless you want me to go insane and kill the other woman, then you're not cheating on me, not ever. Almost anything goes, unless it's something that's tastelessly disgusting—like torture, blood, shit, or piss—which is an area I hope I didn't even have to say is an automatic no-no."

"Chastity, then," and I knew I defeated her.

Eyes wide, the woman stumbled upon her words, saying, "That would, of course, fall under torture, though."

"No it wouldn't, you're just afraid that I've outsmarted you."

"Okay, let me humor your idiocy here. How are you going to force me into chastity, huh? What, do you have a belt? What about your balls, yeah? Certainly they're not big enough to conquer me, to actually get my cunt under lock and key. Your plan has already failed."

"So maybe you've got me there, but... if this is about 'conquering you', what about rape? I mean, wouldn't that be the ultimate way of doing it?"

"It's fair game. But think about it logically for a second. I'm stronger than you, I'm faster than you, and lest we forget that the definition of rape would be 'nonconsensual', which is impossible, as I'm your wife and my consent is automatic."

"I think you're talking out your ass, Miranda. If I forced myself onto you, it would be rape, and that's all there is to it."

"Do it, then," her invitation was only to get me to back down. "Oh, except, that's right, you won't—"

Suddenly standing up, I walked to where she was seated. The woman squinted, staring up at me, between on edge and derisive. Silently lingering, I did nothing and waited for her response.

"You're bluffing," she rose to her feet. "I'm not talk, you're talk, and—"

To be honest, I wasn't going to do anything more than push her back onto the bed, hoping that'd be enough. When I tried, however, her first instinct was to deflect my advance, tossing me to the mattress in her stead. She was then on top of me, straddling my pelvis, my hands over my head. The spared Kate could only watch, just as I could only struggle. My spouse proceeded to mock my attempts with a smile.

"You did more than I thought you would, but... Like I said, I'm both stronger and faster than you are. Humiliating you like this, however, won't be enough. You have to know that I'm an animal you can't cage or tame. When I lie under you, it's only because I want it, but now... Now I am going to hold you down and take it from you in a way you'll never forget."

Trying to hold both of my arms with one hand, I almost overpowered her. Digging her nails into my skin, she combated my attempts at escape. Unbuttoning my trousers, she unsheathed my penis, of which wasn't erect. Finally getting a wrist free, it was immediately seized by her returning grip, and, without warning, she bit my cheek. Although she hadn't drawn blood, it was left throbbing with pain when she withdrew.

"Come on, you son of a bitch, get hard already," she ordered, mashing her vulva against my genitalia. Then, once she had placed her clitoris against the underside of my shaft, just under the tip, she rocked and found that this would achieve her goal. "Hah, I can feel you swelling. Tell me, motherfucker, did you really think you could try to out animal the beast?"

"Miranda, this won't work. It's like you said, we're married and that makes it automatically consensual. It's no use, so let me go."

"Stop," my sibling pleaded. "Miranda, stop, seriously. I'll do whatever you want, but I can't watch you do this."

"Why should I? Give me a good reason not to..."

"I can't watch someone I love have sex with another person, even if it's borderline against his will," confessed the blonde.

"That doesn't bother me," the woman was blunt. "I've been waiting to make you watch me fuck him for a long while now. Why would that—"

"I'll eat your asshole, okay?"

"...What?" this caught 'the beast's' attention.

"That'd be the filthiest of lesbian acts, right? Kissing is innocent, breast fondling is foreplay, fingering is good fun, and eating a girl out is just causal, every day sex. Going ass to mouth, though, that's like... nasty. I'll do it, then, if that puts an end to this."

"Are we talking about rimming or tonguing?" the brunette was almost professional about it.

"Uh, I don't really know what the difference is."

" 'Rimming' would be where your tongue is outside my asshole, and 'tonguing' would be where it's inside me, actually eating out my ass. There's a world of difference, and it's obvious which of the two is going to win my favor."

"Ugh, fuck, I'll tongue it, then, okay?" the coed groaned.

"But you have to be enthusiastic about it. This isn't some bullshit where you get it inside and then it's over. I want you smothering yourself in my crack, sniffing my ass and pussy in between vigorous tonguing sessions. You've got to taste it, love tasting it, and eat me like you're desperate to do it."

"...And this means you won't cuckquean me?"

"For now, at least," she was informed. "It's going to happen, but if you persuade me by willingly doing something extreme that you're otherwise against, then it'll postpone the inevitable. You're right in that ass eating is the raunchiest thing a girl can do to another girl, but that can only appease me for so long. It's going to happen, but I'll let you decide when, or at least until you exhaust your ability to amuse me."

"Then what's the fucking point?"

"You don't want to see me fuck your precious brother, so there's your incentive. I want you to be my pet and do as I say, so that's what I'm getting out of this. Now, are you really going to tongue-fuck my asshole, or do I have to rape your beloved?"

"How do you want to do it, I guess?"

"I'm going to bend over on my hands and knees. Otherwise, it's more forceful on my part. Don't get me wrong, I want there to be a lot of force going into the act, but it has to all come from your end. Like I said, you have to be enthusiastic about it and go all the way. Are you ready?"

When the dirty blonde nodded, the aforementioned position was assumed. Miranda left me in my shamed state, showcasing her buttocks to my sister. Crawling on the bed reluctantly to the woman on presentation, the coed put her face between her ass cheeks and made disgusted expressions as she licked. This was enough to get the animal to snicker, but she was soon dissatisfied.

"Hey, I thought we already established—"

"Just let me work myself into it, alright? What, you don't like foreplay?" Katy retorted.

"It's not aggressive enough. Put your nose to my taint and then inhale so you get a nice mix of ass and puss. Go on, do it, that's a command."

"...Your taint?"

"The space between my cunt and asshole, you foolish girl...!"

Obliging, her nostrils were planted at the exact location. I watched her chest rise and fall, and could hear her audibly sniffing. It made her shudder, and I was surprised to see her eyeing my wife's vagina with legitimate desire. However, she returned to 'rimming' the anus, circling the tip of her tongue about her bleached clean pucker. Then, knowing she had to go even farther, she held agape those two, firm buttocks herself, trying to get that pink rectum to part. It did, so she inserted her oral organ into it and initiated the process of slithering it inward and outwards at a gradual pace. The woman who looked over her shoulder into Kate's direction was so entertained.

"I want to hear you mewing, baby-Kate. You have to enjoy it, so tell me how much you love eating Mommy's ass."

"I love it, Miranda..."

"You love what? I'm sorry, if you don't tell me what it is you love exactly... then it could be anything, couldn't it?"

"I love eating your asshole," her words were muffled, as she was still in the process of doing it.

"Are you my filthy ass eating bitch, hot-Kate? Come on, tell me what you are. You have to say it out loud."

"I'm your filthy ass eating bitch, Miranda..."

"Are you lying?" the brunette was relentless. "It doesn't count if you aren't telling the truth, so don't lie to me, girl, or I'll spank your pussy."

"...I can't."

"What in the fuck do you mean you can't? What, are you liar? Don't you know the consequences for that? I literally just said it."

"Miranda, this isn't fair. I'm doing what you told me to, isn't that enough?"

"No, because you're doing a shit job, and, since you're a bad, bad girl for lying, I'm going to smack your snatch until you've thought long and hard about what you've done."

With that, my sibling was pinned to the mattress. Forearm at the girl's chest, the wife held her down, her free hand holding apart those thighs that tried desperately to close. Then, suddenly, there was a loud, cringe-worthy thwack. Immediately following were surprised cries of help. It was by this time that I'd had enough.

"You aren't spanking her, especially not like that," I asserted. "She really did what you asked for, Miranda, and it's cruel that this is her reward."

After another smack, I was told, "No, this bitch has to learn."

"Seriously, stop. Can't you see she's already red down there? You're being way too hard with her—"

"...No!" the victim wailed. "Ugh, I'm so sorry, Mommy, but don't stop spanking your bad girl."

"Wait, what?" I was lost in seconds.

"Hey, you can't try to talk your way out of this by pretending to like it!" her every syllable was accompanied by an unyielding sequence of harsh vaginal slapping.

But she ceased, taken by absolute surprise. The brutalized orifice started to spurt and spray. Whether from the abuse or the humiliation, Kate came, soaking the sheets. Her blushing face she hid against my spouse's bicep, moaning an octave higher than normal. She'd been kicking her feet, but they soon went lifeless, for she rested then in the afterglow of a fierce, deep discharge.

"Hah, you made a cummy mess," Miranda teased the flustered wreck of sweat and ejaculatory fluids.

"...It still stings."

"Why wouldn't it sting?" she inquired, only to deliver a final blow, which made the sensitive creature howl.

"No more, no more...!"

"So, are you going to misbehave?"

"If I misbehave again, is the punishment getting my pussy spanked some more?"

"Of course not, because we've just established that you like it. Maybe it could be a reward. But no, so I'll ask you one more time. Are you going to misbehave?"

"...What would be the new punishment if I did?"

"I'll shove something up your ass, take you to the park, and make you show it to people."

"Holy fuck, Miranda, there's no way that's legal—"

"Shut your mouth, you don't have a say in me and my slave's affairs."

"Mommy, I'm a bad, bad girl. I didn't like eating your icky butt, so maybe you'll have to punish me until I do..."



The Nasty Wife Pt. 09-10



Pt. 09:

"Hold still," the squirming Katy was ordered, my wife trying to fit the butt-plug she'd bought into the coed's rectum. "If you don't stop resisting me, it's only going to hurt even worse when I finally get it in."

"Whatever," I gave up after trying to talk her out of her eccentricity. "Fuck it, I don't care, but you're not leaving the house with her, especially to do... yeah."

"Ugh, the only reason I'm fighting this rascal is to do yeah, so hold her legs or be quiet."

"But I was only kidding, Miranda!" the girl pleaded. "I promise I'll behave, and I liked tonguing your ass, so just stop. You know I'm sensitive there."

"Everyone's sensitive there, don't be foolish. That's why it feels good, but you're never going to learn that unless you let me—aha! " With a plop, the toy was stuck into my sibling's anus, causing her eyes to widen, her jaw to drop, and her toes to curl. "I got it... See, isn't it easier when you give in?"

"Oh... god..." she gasped, where she lay upon her back, unmoving. "It's too big, Miranda, I wasn't ready," and similar phrases were repeated.

"Shush," my spouse cradled the panicking thing's head and stroked her face. "Be calm, relax, and ride the sensation out until you adjust. Then, when you're adjusted, you'll learn to like it. That's it, ease the tension in your body and let it happen."

"...I can feel my heart beating in my ass," the blonde confessed, "and then my insides are trying to pull it up deeper instead of out."

"You'll get used to it. The plug will keep you stretched until the elasticity in your muscles wear enough for it to become pleasurable. Don't worry, though, you'll still be tight, but it'll become more comfortable for you, where it won't hurt as much, even when you get fucked."

"Maybe it's not so bad when I don't try to move..."

Reaching for Katy's cunny, that she may stroke at her clit, the brunette said, "The more aroused you get, the better it'll feel—"

"No, stop!" she pushed her hand away. "...When you touch it, I clench."

"Relax, then, and why don't you try it yourself?"

There was a pause, and then the college student asked, "Do you promise it'll feel better?"

"This is how I learned, so it's how I'm teaching you. Isn't that good enough? It worked for me, and I know it'll work on you, too."

"...But my thoughts are all fucked up, and I don't want to masturbate thinking sick, nasty things," despite the guarantee, she remained hesitant.

"Aw, cup-Kate, it's okay. It's alright if you have sick thoughts. Everyone has sick thoughts, and they feel so, so good when you revel in their filthiness. Maybe if you tell me what they are, I can help you better deal with them."

"I don't know, Miranda, I'm embarrassed."

"Embarrassment is only a form of shyness. Once you admit and accept your compulsions, once you openly indulge them, then they become commonplace and you're not embarrassed anymore."

"...I'm thinking about vaginas."

"Wait, is that it? That's all?" my wife was surprised, though only because of the lack of shock value in the girl's sexuality. "You made it sound like you were thinking about being..." (Censored.) "Or about being tied up in a public bathroom and forced to fuck everyone who enters until you're an annihilated, cum dripping mess. Thinking about pussy is... well, so tame."

"God-fucking-damn," I swore. "That's not what you think about, is it?"

"No, I think about..." and, due to the horrific nature of what she detailed, I will exclude what she proceeded to tell us.

"What the fuck, Miranda?" I suddenly didn't know the person I married. "Why would that be what you get off on?"

Again, the conversation has been censored. She, however, initiated a long and descriptive story about (censored), touching herself as she told it, and... Imagine what it was about, or don't, because it's too obvious and you should already know where this is going.

"...And, when I understood what happened, I thanked her," was my beloved's conclusion to her terrible tale.

(Censored.)

"I don't care," the brunette shrugged. "It felt good, and I doubt I'd have otherwise discovered the great world of bisexuality if she hadn't have done it. And it only happened once anyway, even though I begged her to do it again."

"You begged..." my words trailed off along with my ability to focus on the subject matter. Taking a deep breath, I said, "Okay, I'm done talking about this. Maybe it would've been better if you never mentioned it." (Censored.)

"You're one to talk, aren't you?" she retaliated. "You know what I think? I think you're just jealous that you didn't have an older sister. You like being taken advantage of so much, so you're pissed that you didn't have anyone to do it to you. That's probably why you like me so much, too, because I like to make you—"

"Okay, okay, whatever, alright?" the woman had to be stopped. "You win, just... no, okay?"

"Wait, what does he like for you to do?" the curious Kate had to interrogate.

"We roleplay sometimes," I hoped confessing that would be enough.

"But... what kind of roleplaying is it?"

"I'm going to tell her," my wife threatened.

"Whatever, fine, but it's not like you weren't the one to get me into it. Don't pretend I'm the sick one when you literally just got done telling us the worst thing conceivable."

"His fantasy is that he doesn't want me to jerk him off, but I do it forcibly anyway, and then I make him cum while telling him all my nasty thoughts."

"...Isn't that what you do to me?" my sister inquired. "I mean, that's the exact same thing we do all the time."

"No, this is different," she clarified. "This is more like roleplay molestation, where I pick a topic he pretends not to enjoy, and I force him to cum to it. Like, 'Oh no, Miranda, please don't make me cum thinking about my mother,' but then it happens anyway."

"That's a goddamn lie," I defended myself. "I told you no for real and you kept going. And it's not usually that fucked up. Usually, we just pretend that I'm afraid to admit that I lust after her and then she makes me confess. Like... imagine if your crush came onto you so fast that you refused, but they kept going, so, even though you wanted it, the answer was still no... kind of."

"I don't know," my sibling stared at me, uncertain. "If someone made me think of Mom during sex, I wouldn't just... give in, which is what you did. Whether or not you enjoyed it is irrelevant when you blatantly let it happen either way."

"You keep telling yourself that, cup-Kate" the brunette snickered.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

"If I frigged you, like I did him, while sexualizing your mother, you wouldn't resist, you'd cum...!"

"No I wouldn't, because that's really messed up!" the blonde protested.

"Hah, how much you want to bet, huh? I have your family photo album and I know the exact page to flip to for the perfect masturbation material. Yeah, Mommy's fat fucking camel toe. You're probably already wet from me telling you about it."

"Miranda, no," my sister was more assertive than usual. "I'll humor your tamer fantasies, but it's my mom... That's too far, even for you."

Except that it wasn't too far for her at all, especially because I knew that to be the only reason for everything that'd been going on in our lives, since none of this would have ever happened if she hadn't have fetishized our mother. Perhaps it didn't register for Kate, or at least it hadn't until our personal copy of the album was retrieved. Promptly after being laid in front of the half-naked blood relative lying on my bed, the promised picture was turned to, and the coed was shown what I'd fatefully been myself.

Grimacing, Katy declared, "This isn't right, Miranda. I didn't need for you to show me this, especially not now. You've totally killed the mood."

"But only because you're resisting it. What, you don't think Gaby's pretty?"

"You're just trying to trick me, but that's not what I said at all... My mother happens to be a beautiful woman, who I am proud to take after."

"Mm, especially the plump puss," the deviant debauchee purred. "Look, I think I can see a resemblance," the photograph was held by the girl's crotch, comparing the imprint of our mom's vulva to the revealed one belonging to my sibling.

"I, uh..." the coed froze when she realized it was, to her dismay, absolutely true. "That's..."

"What, hot? Yeah, it is," she was antagonized further. "Just imagine what it'd be like if your cunt was grinding against hers. They'd be like two swollen peaches squelching and pussy lip smacking... Ah, god, it's delicious."

"No!" Kate blushed. "I was going to say that it's something I didn't want to ever know about. Miranda, please... Okay, I admit that I'm probably bisexual. Girls are cute, vaginas are attractive, and maybe I get off on you confusing my sexuality, but this is fucking different, okay? I'm—hey, what do you think you're doing?" she shouted when the woman started to suddenly and furiously pleasure her clitoris. Putting her thighs together, writhing, trying to shake her off, my sister said, "You can't, I won't let you! Stop...!"

"What's that, baby-Kate, you won't let me stop? There's nothing to worry about, then, because I hadn't planned on it. In fact," her movements sped up, until it looked as though it probably hurt, "there, I'm going even faster."

"...Miranda..." the supine blonde groaned, drooling, where her words were spoken through a filter of heavy vibration. 'I think... the plug is... making me... really, really sensitive. You need to stop... or I think I'm gonna... oh god, I think I'm gonna cum."

"Here, then," my wife held our mother's image closely to her face. "All you have to do is let it happen. I'll do all the work; you just keep your eyes open. That's it, that's a good girl. Now... think about those juicy cunt lips—Ah," the brunette gasped when she saw the coed was on the verge of release, breathily mimicking her orgasmic state, "that's it, let it all out."

And Katy did. However, her eyes left the photograph upon an explosive discharge, though only because they rolled up into the back of her head, her eyelids fluttering. Then, staining her immediate surroundings in creamy ejaculate, which was opaquely white and frothy, she was left twitching, thoroughly spent. I felt bad, too, because I'd done nothing out of spite for what my sibling had said to me. Not that it mattered much, I guess, but the fact she pretended I'd enjoyed this depraved lunacy meant I was satisfied knowing she'd now understand firsthand my predicament.

"Good job, Katy dear," the crown of my sister's head was kissed and she was praised for her hardly consensual debauchery.

"But it felt good..." she lamented, confused by the sensation of pleasure mixing with an unwanted sexual experience, "and..."

"Then what's the matter, huh? If it felt good, revel in it. The more wrong it is, the better it feels in the moment. Don't kid yourself with shame, guilt, or morality. Accept what you've just done."

"What you made me do, more like."

"But you liked it," the beast insisted. "So—"

"And what if I did?" the blonde raised her voice. "What, then, Miranda? If I like it, you win, but what happens if I really start to develop these twisted fetishes of yours? Tell me!"

"Hush, calm down," my sister was consoled. "But... I would ask you if you wanted to do anything about it."

"...What does that mean?" I questioned.

"Hah, so you think I can get you to fuck your sister, but I can't get your mother to fuck her, too?" my spouse's tone was close to being sincerely offended.

"Are you kidding me with this?" I blinked, appalled. "For one, that's not happening, if only because my final decision is no, and... for two, don't you remember our last conversation with her? She hardly wants anything to do with any of us anymore, and, if some strange shit like that happened, or you even suggested that they'd happen, we'd be excommunicated, each of us, from the family."

"It sounds like you're challenging me."

"No, I'm telling you that this is the worst idea ever, even worse than pimping Kate to strangers."

"No, this is definitely a challenge," she insisted. "You don't think I can do it, but you're wrong. I can do anything. Isn't that obvious by now? Hun, I'm a fucking god, I make things happen and people are always under my control. No matter how moral Mommy thinks she is, I'd force her to have little wet dreams about her darling girl's pussy until she had to taste the forbidden fruit herself. Look around you, look at the situation we're in, it's my handiwork and this is only the beginning. Making your mom—"

"Miranda, shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"You're my wife, so that makes her your mother. If you respect me, you'll respect her. So, don't even talk about this, let alone pretend that it would ever happen. It won't, and, even if she would fall for your trickery, I won't let you try. That's that."

"Uh, no, it's not," laughed the glasses wearing demoness. "And haven't we already established that you're powerless to stop me?"

"No, because the power you have is bullshit. You don't have control over anyone else, you just have sick thoughts and you plant them into other people's heads until your ideas sound good enough to follow through with. But, when thinking soberly, you're only a woman with an incredible libido. Because I'm not aroused in the slightest, you just come off as a pathetic pervert."

"...If I'm a pathetic pervert, then you're a pussified faggot."

"Yeah, whatever keeps your inflated ego from being wounded, Miranda. Whatever, though, because—"

"You're not fucking either of us until I decide it's time to forgive you," the brunette announced.

"Unlike you, I'm not addicted to sex. Even if I had to do it, I'd just masturbate. That's it, then. It's not a punishment if I don't give a fuck about what you're denying me."

"He's no fun, huh, baby-Kate?" I was indirectly teased, the blonde nudged.

"What would I care about being 'fun'? Listen—"

"Why are you so suddenly upset?" my wife crossed her arms as I stood. "You're being irrational."

"You, Miranda, you're the reason I'm so pissed off right now. What the hell is wrong with you? I'm trying to handle things as they come, but you make them worse. You're always putting me in situations I can't stand. I mean, I love my sister, but I don't want to have a fucking kid with her. What in the fuck is wrong with you? I—"

"Don't talk to me that way," the grimacing woman diverted her eyes to the floor, holding back conflicting emotions, her voice lowered. "There's nothing wrong with me, so maybe you should just leave the room until you calm down. You don't have the right to make me feel like I'm a freak."

"You know that's not what I meant..."

"But it's what you said. 'Miranda, what's wrong with you?' isn't something I deserve to hear from someone I love. If you're going to be that much of an asshole, then go back to being silent."

"That's not fair," I noted. "You treat me like shit all the time, even if you don't mean it, but the moment I say anything—"

"I was," (censored) "you fucking dick. Don't you understand there are some things you shouldn't say to someone who has gone through something so terrible?"

"Uh... But you said—"

"Whatever, you inattentive fuck. She treated me like shit my entire childhood like it was somehow my fault, like what she did to me made me the fucked up one. Well, I'm not. I'm perfectly normal. There's nothing wrong with me. It's everyone else. And I refuse to let you make me feel the same way she's made me feel my whole life."

"Miranda..." I approached, trying to console her by sitting by her side, touching her shoulders. "Never would I intentionally do that to you. I'm sorry, okay? You're right, you're fine. What she did to you makes her horrible, not the other way around. You're my wife and I love you, so I'm deeply sorry that I—"

Her cackling interrupted my apology.

"What?" I became suspicious.

"My power isn't real, huh? I don't give a fuck about that stupid bitch or what she did to me when I was a kid. But... you do, and that's why I win. I'll always win, don't you see that? Feel my control..."

"That's too far, Miranda. You don't go there... ever. That's not okay," and even Katy agreed.

"Nowhere is too far when you can do anything, when no one can stop you, and when you don't even hurt when you bleed. I could get away with murder if I wanted. Do not underestimate me, because I am invincible..."

Pt. 10:

The brunette was chain-smoking cigarettes when she told me to enter; and as I did, the first thing I noticed was how dark everything was, only a light in the kitchen illuminating the scene. The only thing I could hear was the ceiling fan spinning on medium overhead—and such a sound was so repetitive, carrying its noise with it as it turned around and around, that it made me feel much more nauseous than I already felt. I fully entered, having removed my jacket, and took a seat from across the woman in silence.

"You're smoking."

Waving away the smoke while stamping out her cigarette in an ash tray on the table between us, she replied, "Yeah—ever since that phone call with Miranda... I guess she made it sound so decadent that I started again." I said nothing, remembering that fateful 'trip to the movies.' Because she was thinking about it, too, she asked, "You were at the motel when I called...?"

"In the car," I wasn't lying, at least.

"...We're both adults," Mom declared, her voice so deadpan, while fiddling with a partially crinkled cigarette pack, "so tell me about it."

"About what?" My heart was racing; I thought I'd escaped from this shit by coming home.

"You were up to something when I called. Tell me about it. As I said," she retrieved another smoke already, lit it up, and tried blowing the leftover fumes away from my face (albeit fruitlessly, because I could still taste and smell it), "we're both adults here... I can handle it; I just wanna know—it's something I've been thinking about every now and again ever since it happened."

"...Do you want the whole truth or just the partial truth?"

"Don't sugar coat it, but remember you're talking to your mother."

I hesitated before saying, "You know, it feels like so long ago... Well, we were stopped—I don't remember where, but we were parked—and Katy was in the floor, Miranda in my lap... They were pants-less, Kate's head between her legs, and then you suddenly called—suddenly, I had to answer the phone and tell my mother that something I regretted and resented then and there wasn't actually happening; and then, to make matters even worse, she—well, you—demanded to speak to the two women behind my every dread, fear, and worry."

"I don't need to hear anymore," she said. "I'm interested, though, in how you got to that point—tell me, who did or said what and how'd you all end up there?"

"...Mom, I'm here because I wanted to stop thinking about this."

"Why do you think I'm here, huh?—It's not for my health," she held up her cigarette as its tip was an orange-red glow due to her cool, casual puffs. "But I can't wrap my head around it—so please, just help me understand and we can forget it, together."

After another pause, I said, "Miranda has this way with Kate—with most people, actually—but especially Kate, I'd say: she can convince her to do, say, or even think and feel anything. She decided that Katy was going to be—and I'm sorry if this is too much, but you asked—her 'little gay girl' and that her 'dyke baby-Kate' or whatever was going to be her new pet. Katy went for it—no, not only did she go for it, but she loved Miranda for it, no matter how much she initially resisted and refused and pretended she didn't want it at the time."

"And you just watched," her voice was slightly condescending in tone.




The Nasty Wife Pt. 09-10



"You don't know my wife like I know her—she's stubborn in this really specific way where, whatever you say or do, she knows what she wants and she's smarter about getting her way than you could ever be about stopping her."

"She's fake."

"...Excuse me?" I was angry at the thought of anyone bitching about my beloved that wasn't me.

"She's a different person every time I talk to her, it seems. Yeah, she's nice and all most of the time... but she has these eyes, and that smile, and that tone in her voice: she's... I don't know—and I don't think I have to tell you, assuming you already know; though I guess it's not really my place to talk about her, anyway." Then, when I was seething in silence, Mom said, "She's your wife; you love her... I love her—she's family. ...But you know who else is family, and that doesn't mean I have to agree with her ways."

"You're referring to Kate?"

"The both of you," she was finished with her cigarette, "but mostly Kate anymore. Don't get me wrong, I love you kids to death and back—I'd do anything for you, even bend over backwards... even deliver a... But," she shook her head, "it's not right. You know it, as do I—and so does Kate; Miranda, too." When I, as per usual, could say nothing, her stare pierced me as she said, "I want you to look me in the eye and admit I'm right."

I did—although my words were, "I don't think you are, Mom."

"And why not?" she was passive aggressive. "How aren't I?"

"The moment doesn't care, that's the best way I can put it. Other than the fact she's having a kid we know shouldn't have happened—and I mean, despite our disagreements on how to approach the situation, that you and I are in agreement while Kate and Miranda are happy as shit about it—other than that one fact, the possibility of her having something that complicates or is complicated within itself; when I stop and just let the world speak to me, where the silence behind existence has nothing to say, I don't think it matters. I can't convince you of that, I know, but I had—and excuse me for being blunt!—sex with my sister and time didn't stop, society didn't collapse, and the world itself batted not an eyelash. In the moment, the stigma unravels, and you just stand there saying, 'I can live with this'—and I can, Mom; I can literally live with Kate and Miranda under the same roof and the consequences, apart from the one fermenting in my sister's stomach, that accompany that... Our relationship is fine, it's the people in it that are dysfunctional."

"...You're surprisingly mature and intelligent about it, at least." And, for what it was worth, I could tell she legitimately respected me, too.

"They're conspiring against me, Mom."

"What?" Neither of us expected me to blurt that out. "What do you mean by that?"

"You called Miranda fake—well, Kate is just as bad: I hear them have conversations behind my back sometimes, and they planned for her to get pregnant; Kate was even the one who poked holes in the condom—you know, regardless of the fact... Ah, scratch that last part; it doesn't matter."

"Are you sure...?" Her eyes fired with thought. "Hey, Hun, is that true—did you really hear them say that, or are you just being paranoid from stress?" Mom's hand touched mine to console my visible tension.

"I heard it, I know I did; and, as much as I love my sister and my wife—who are two different people, thank god—well... I think you're the only person I can trust, and that's saying something because our relationship is pretty much over because of everything that's happened so suddenly in our lives."

"Hey, whether you and Kate are... you know... or not, you're still my son; she's still my daughter—I care about you; both of you; and I'm here, of course... I always will be." She nervously laughed to break the ice, "Just don't mind it if I have a cigarette in my hand while I'm here."

"Well... thanks, then, Mom." I weakly smiled.

"But, while we're talking, why did you come over? There must certainly be a reason. You know," she smirked with nostalgia, "you moved out so fast it's almost unbelievable you'd ever willingly come back home, even just to visit."

Not knowing what to say to that, I paused before confessing, "Miranda is going nuts, driving me nuts in the process, and with Katy being off her nut with all this baby shit herself, I just told them I had to go for a while."

"Fair enough, but that doesn't answer my question when it raises so many more... I know only about your private lives as you've been willing to share—and sometimes you share too much, honestly—but I'll never know what any of you are like or what you're up to behind closed doors unless you fill me in, Hun."

"The two of them are absolutely baby-crazy, for one—and, well... Miranda cries after she orgasms sometimes, if I can talk to you like we are in fact both adults."

"...What?"

"She gets high off sex—like, unimaginably high—and then falls... hard. She was flying in the clouds today—you know, going about as full psycho as maybe she can safely go—and then, she 'finishes', and suddenly I'm holding my sobbing wife as my naked sister watches from the other side of the bed, completely alienated by this stone of a human being just weeping."

"But why—what happened? What was wrong with her?" Just talking about it made Mom uncomfortable—as it did the same to me, too, of course.

"People don't know her like I do," I explained; "some might say she's crazy, or evil, or whatever else, but I remember Kate telling me we're all playing a game—and she's right, Miranda is a master of games... and that's all they are, no matter how many times I keep forgetting that; only ever able to see it in hindsight, to be completely and regrettably honest."

"...But what kind of games?" My cryptic moon-speak was making Mom—who was indeed but an outsider, completely oblivious to what we were, as she said, like behind closed doors—no longer just uncomfortable, but quite disturbed. "Do you mean like... you know, trying to see if she can get her husband to masturbate to pictures of his mother?"

Although coughing and loosening my collar, I affirmed, "Yes, that's it exactly."

"She must be really persuasive—never in a million years would I have ever thought my son would be capable of something like that."

"...I wouldn't do it on my own, but to be completely honest, I don't feel bad about it until I'm shamed by other people over it."

"What do you mean?" her confusion was equally as visible as it was audible.

"I'm not attracted to you in that way—I mean, as a woman, you look completely fine, Mom—but when it comes to something that, unlike what happened between Katy and I, has no immediate consequences (if ever!), then I can move on without ever looking back. As I said, it only bothers me whenever someone makes it an issue; otherwise, I'm no longer shocked by my lack of shock at the fact that I can live with having done something like that—and maybe the fact I was coerced into it a bit helps, I suppose."

"Wait... are you saying that, if you and I—you know, mother and son—were to... you know, have sex... unless I was to get pregnant, you don't care—it doesn't bother you?"

Nervously rubbing my forehead, I stammered, "It's something that's really hard to explain, Mom—I'm definitely not saying I would ever want that to happen, but I guess it wouldn't bother me, no. But I'm trying to be objective here—and you brought up the incest element, not me."

"No, no—I think you brought it up by having sex with your sister," I was ruthlessly shamed by my passively aggressive parent—of whom I was beginning to suspect was borderline offended, though I couldn't imagine how or why. "You know, it's a little weird: you're having steady sex with Kate—so you obviously find members of your own family attractive!—and yet, even though you're literally insisting the idea and actually going through with it doesn't and wouldn't bother you, it's still inconceivable you'd have anything to do with me. I'm obviously not saying I'd ever want that—we can both be pretty assured of that!—but what, is your mom truly that old and unattractive? What's the difference between me and her? We're both related—so I guess that means that there's another reason you're so against the idea, am I right or am I right?"

"...Mom, you're an attractive woman as a woman—as my mom, though... you're my mom. And, uh, the fact there is no objective difference, I guess, is sort of the point... even if that point isn't currently in my favor."

"All I'm saying is this—and I kind of want an answer, even if it's just morbid curiosity: you're okay with incest, just not with me. Why? There has to be a reason—and the fact I'm your mother certainly can't count if Katy being your sister, for heaven's sake, didn't stop you from knocking her up...!"

"...It's a conscious choice."

"But you still kinda need to explain what that means!"

"I don't know what you're trying to achieve, Mom," I was getting irritated, "but fuck it—I'd have sex with you. I'm not saying I want to right now, or that I'm asking for it, or that I'd ever act upon it; but if you're pressuring me about it, I have to confess that you're an attractive woman and I'd have sex with you because of it. That's it. But you know what? I respect you, and society, and ethics, and everything that says that's not okay. I don't think about you sexually, or feel sexual feelings towards you, but if you're going to ask me why I wouldn't do it—or wouldn't want to, rather—it's because I'm not allowed to think or actually do it. What more can I say?"

"...We're both adults, so I'll be honest with you—I've been smoking because I'm horny. I haven't had a man—I mean, I haven't had anyone—since your father; and, to be brutally blunt, masturbation doesn't do it for me. The way Miranda described smoking," Mom stared dreamily at her cigarette pack, "it was erotic; and with everyone having sex but me—even weird, fucked up, incestuous sex!—it's funny how I, a normal, sane, and rational woman who is allegedly still young and attractive, is the only one not getting any."

Taken aback, I asked, "But why are you telling me this?"

"It's as you said... I could live with it—and I guess I also realize that, after all these years alone, you're the only person who has taken a sexual interest in me. It's crazy, I know, but each cigarette is Miranda's decadence; and so it reminds me both of you and Kate and what you did to my panties... to that picture of me... I don't want to have sex with my son, but I think I've been having sex with you every cigarette I've had this last while—and it probably doesn't help that it's so oral..." She chuckled anxiously to herself at her own inside joke.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I blinked in confusion, realizing at once that I wish I hadn't of asked.

"...I have the biggest oral fixation: when I think about men—"

"Enough, enough...! I get it, Mom..." Then, my tone less abrasive, I repeated, "I get it."

"...Do you?" Her eyes flickered with interest, as if two smoldering ashes threatening to burst back into flames. "Tell me, then—what did I mean by that?"

Shaking my head, I replied, "If I have to say it, you're talking about oral sex."

She shuddered off her hysteria, returned to normal, sighed, and then coolly lamented, "I need what you described, to be able to live with myself—right now, there's still all this stigma... I just want to have sex; I don't know anyone, though—I've been out of the loop for so long I can't date or even try to score a one night stand. What do I want; what do I need? To have it happen once, absolve me of the guilt, the tension, and the hormonal rage, and then just accept and get over it."

"...Uh, Mom, it doesn't sound like you're just talking about sex—it sounds like you're—"

"Talking about having sex with you. Yeah..." And we both fell equally into uneasiness after that, fidgeting about in our seats.

"That's so unlike you, though—I just can't fathom how you'd ever be capable of something like that, Mom."

"Well, isn't that how I felt about you and your sister? It seems everyone might be capable of even more than they themselves are aware of—and, it's like I just said, I'm still lusting you indirectly anyway. That's what these are," she held up her cigarette pack before comically saying, "incest."

"...Yet you're the sane one, Mom—you're the principled one with morals and inhibitions and a conscience while the rest of us are too dumb, young, and horny—"

"No, stop," she intervened; "you're right, but you're also so wrong: Yeah, I'm the one who scolded the three of you for the filthy things you've been up to, but it's been eating at me—my son, my daughter, and my son's wife are fucking each other. My son, my daughter—brother and sister—are fucking. It hurt, at first, thinking about what people would say, what everyone would do if they found out; but then, restless one night, I realized I could fall asleep with it in the back of my mind. The next day, I woke up with an enormous weight lifted off my shoulders—I thought about you, Kate, Miranda, and the rest of our lives without remorse, or tension, or worry (well, other than about Kate's pregnancy, anyway), and while the thought of inevitable incest was always in the background of my every thought regarding each of you, I accepted it: I brought the thought of my son fucking his little sister to the forefront of my mind and asked, 'So what?' I said, 'He's still my son, she my daughter, and I almost don't care... I don't care.' And it was scary, don't get me wrong, but I could fucking live with it—and then, realizing I was capable of that... I started to think, 'What else are you capable of, huh, Gaby?' So I thought about it—really, really thought about it... about as hard and as deep as it can be thought—and so I wondered how much I could get away with before my conscience got to me. So I, uh... experimented with the family photo album."

"...Uh, you did what?" I asked in stutters, though admittedly on the edge of my seat.

"I did what you did to me—or what Miranda made you do, at least—just to see if I could live with it... I did it, and I could."

"But what did you do to our family photos?" My heart was pounding so fast and hard that it hurt, the adrenaline causing me to shake as if it was the table and chair and not the pulsations in my chest.

"Well... First, I woke up completely wet—yeah, make your faces at me, but you've thought and done worse!—and so I just snuck a hand between my thighs and my gooey labia lips—"

"Jesus Christ, Mom—stop!" Her description had churned my stomach, as well as created a certain hardness in my trousers. "Please, please don't continue—I'm literally begging you..."

"It's okay, sweetie," she kissed my hand before holding it firmly, "your mother is a woman, and if I have to deliver you and your sister's baby, you can hear about Mommy's gooey pussy lips and how fucking fat and plump they are; how they stick together and need delicately peeled apart after peeling my panties from my swollen, sopping wet slit... I just get so sweaty and drippy and horny throughout the night—and every... single... night, too."

"...Then hurry up and just tell me the rest of the story, Mom... Fuck..."

Rubbing her bare foot against my pant leg affectionately, she continued with, "I woke up just so, so needy," a harsh groan suddenly escaped her lips; "you know, like I am right now... And so I started touching myself—slipping my hand down my panties; rubbing my sensitive bulb after pulling my thick, meaty hood back; dipping my fingers into my pouring cunt to rub its slickness all over the entirety of my pussy... before pulling on the waistband of my panties, peering down to see the strands of cream and froth stuck to the crotch of both myself and my underwear—and," she salaciously sighed before shuddering, "I started to think about you, my son, after thinking about how you've been fucking your sister enough to get her pregnant; I got even wetter, rubbed my clit even harder, and was soon sloshing my slippery fucking fingers in and out of my cunt so good—previously unable to really masturbate, but now really going at it because of that extra edge; because of my incestuous thoughts of my son fucking his sister before running home to come fuck his Mommy—and so I stopped... I asked myself if I could really live with myself after this, feeling a little disgusted—but I loved feeling so disgusting in this filthy and raunchy and nastiest of ways; so I ran to grab the photo album, flipped it open to the same beach pictures I knew my own son had cum to like the filthy little sister- and motherfucker he is, and just started masturbating so hard and so good and so deep and so fucking fast that cream was just rolling and rolling and pouring and gushing from my slutty, incest-loving fuck-hole as I turned page after page just to see you in your trunks... just to see Katy in her skimpy fucking whore bikini... and how badly I want to suck your—my own son's!—dick and lap and lick my own daughter's tasty little cunt..." She was squirming and clutching one of her large, natural G-cups by this point. "Please, son... oh god, it's so wrong, and I came so hard again and again to all our family photos—but please, please, please tell me how big your cock is and... oh god, please tell me how fucking beautiful and bald my incest-slut daughter's pussy is...!"

Trembling, my balls churning, my heart and dick pounding, I told her.

There was silence as she mewed with satisfaction, and then her leg departed from mine after having coiled around it to caress my calf with the full, bare length of her own (she was just in shorts and a revealing tank top underneath the robe she let fall open). "Get out," she turned from me after her demeanor suddenly became its complete opposite; "I, uh... I can't explain myself, but you need to leave."

"...But why, Mom?"

"I said just go!" her voice cracked. "Get the fuck out of my house...!" And then she whined, "Please..."

Intimidated, I still couldn't help but ask, "...But why?"

"Because if you don't run home to your wife—to her and your fucking sister!—...I think I'm going to try to have sex with you... I'm so afraid I'm going to have sex with my son..." And then, when I went to comply—where I had to fix the front of my trousers first before standing to maintain a sense of decency—she asked, her voice full of carnal curiosity, "Hey, what are you doing?"

Having stood by this point, my erection slipped down between my boxers and pant leg, I said, "I just had to fix—"

But a stray pulsation had my dick sling from its place and create a bulge in the front of my trousers; at that moment, my fuck-hungry mother pounced, suddenly on top of me as I fell back to the floor with such a curvaceous woman now on top of me—her robe open; her vast, dangling cleavage and lack of bra exposed right in front of my face; her pelvis glued to mine as she straddled my supine body and grated her cunt against my cock through the fabric of her shorts and my dress pants. Her libidinous eyes so dark and aflame with desire—and yet now filled with apologetic remorse—she removed her hands from holding my wrists above my head, arched her back as she yielded to let me out from under her, and said, "...Please go... I'm sorry," she unconsciously rocked her hips, grinding against my crotch, "I just... can't control myself—it's been too many years since I've felt a dick inside me, and you need to fucking run before it's yours I ride like it's never been ridden before."

So, without saying a word, I crawled away; and she did nothing as I scrambled to get to my feet, nor when I staggered back in my incapability to look away... And then, as she pulled her robe shut and cast her glance away, I turned and ran.