6 comments/  35431 views/  20 favorites

Sins of the Father Pt. 01

By: pumpkineater2



Prologue

It's only now that I can tell this story. For one thing, I've had over a decade to absorb it. For another, the on-going story seems to have reached, if not a conclusion, then some kind of plateau. Whatever the case, I give it to you, dear reader, in the hope you might gain from it some benefit. What that benefit might be is completely up to you.

*****

Chapter One: Friday, July 4th, 2003, 4:00 P.M. 

I knew something wasn't right the moment I turned onto our driveway: the shades in our front lounge windows were drawn. They are never drawn during the day. To this day, James insists on an abundance of natural light in his work as a visual artist, and he says our front lounge is almost as good as being outdoors. But, there they were - yanked down to the sills. As I rolled closer, I noted too that the drapes had been pulled.

I clicked my remote for the garage door. At the same time, I saw that Peter's SUV was missing from the concrete turn-around slab adjacent to the driveway. Within the garage itself, James' Lexus was in its spot on the left, so I parked my own Lexus over to the right as usual.

"Why are Peter and Rachel not here?" I clearly remember thinking. They had just that evening before come up to Ann Arbor from Columbus. The two of them were our 'Irish twins': born just twenty minutes apart in adjacent rooms at St. Joe Hospital. Rachel was my then twenty-five-year-old while Peter was my nephew, the son of James' sister - and my best friend - Abigail.

Rachel and Peter shared an apartment near the campus of Ohio State University where they were both enrolled in post-graduate studies; Rachel in education, Peter in engineering. They had, in fact, been sharing living space since their junior year at OSU. James and I never saw this as unusual. In fact, we had encouraged it. The two of them had been raised together both before and after Abigail's death, and were essentially siblings in terms of their relationship. 'No big deal', we thought at the time.

Their relationship with James and me was another matter. It had been almost three years since we had last seen them. I tried to convince myself it was due to the usual things that kept young people apart from their parents: schedule conflicts, a changed circle of friends, the fact that we just weren't as interesting to them as we were when they were children. As you will see, the truth was something else. But, back when this story begins, we had at least reconciled to the point of an actual visit from them.

All of this made their absence that much stranger. You see, my husband and I had bent over backwards to clear this Forth-of-July weekend so that we all could have a mini family reunion. It was also to be a time of making up a number of missed birthdays: they were both born on July 17, 1979.

There was all that plus, you see, our two younger children, twenty-year-old fraternal twins James, Jr. and Sarah, were also returning home from their year-long hosteling trip through Europe. This had been a long-debated and hard-earned gift to them for graduating co-valedictorians from their prep school. As for me, I had put in for this weekend off in January at the hospital where I worked as a surgical RN.

I turned off the engine, lowered the garage door and made my way into the house via our mud room adjacent to the kitchen. As I normally did, I kicked off my orthopedic shoes and then deposited my purse and car keys on the kitchen island. All the while, I was listening for music or talking - some kind of indication that my husband was here. I heard nothing.

I knew my destination was our front lounge (if for no other reason than to open the drapes and blinds). I strode carefully but steadily through the kitchen and made the left turn down the main hallway toward our front door. The stairway to the second floor was on my left. It was there I caught wind of something that smelled like dirty gym socks, but I really didn't pay much attention to it at the time.

Looking to the right, I approached the first of two four-foot wide thresholds leading into the lounge. The first thing I noticed was that it was bathed in the orange glow from our gas fireplace along the far wall. Otherwise, the room was dark. The second thing I noticed was that James was seated in one of the two high-backed chairs located on the right (near side) of the room. The chair allowed me to see only the top of his head, but at least it was moving. I began to relax. It was a sensation I was able to enjoy for all of about three seconds.

As I came further into the lounge and the rest of him came into view, I saw two things that sent my heart up into my throat: the first was a half-empty bottle of whisky on the table next to him; the second was James cleaning one of his target pistols!

Needless to say, I froze in place almost afraid to breathe. James is not a heavy drinker by any measure. That bottle of whisky had, up until then, sat unopened in a locked cabinet for two years since coming back with us from Scotland. It was to have been saved for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary that was still two years off.

As for the weapon; one of James' hobbies is competitive pistol shooting. He had been doing it for decades. He had even been an NRA gun safety instructor, for goodness sake! I've lost count over the years the number of times he's said how guns and alcohol just don't go together. Well, there he was violating that rule to the hilt! After about a minute of me standing near him with my hands at my mouth, he saw me.

"Hey there, babe," he slurred, "you're 'ome late. E'erything alrigh' at work?"

"It's just after four o'clock, James," I responded as cooly as I could. "About the same time I usually get home."

"Oh, really? It's kinda dark in here..."

"You have the blinds closed, dear. What the hell are you doing? Where are the kids?"

"I'm cleanin' ma Ruger and sippin' ma Glen Morganges... that's not it... my Glen Morgany... Oh hell, woman! I'm drinkin' ma wishky!"

"That was supposed to be for our twenty-fifth anniversary, or so my husband told me."

"He, he... thish is a differen' bot'le," James said under his breath. "I bough' two ah the dooey-free shop ah the airport in Glascow... Glace-go... G-l-a-s-g-o-w!" he finally and slowly spelled out.

"Great, dear, but you have to give me one of them. You choose: I get either the gun or the booze."

Without hesitation, James handed over the pistol. I noted that the Ruger's clip was missing. I pulled back on the slide to see if there was a bullet chambered in the breach. There wasn't (to my immense relief).

"James, where are Peter and Rachel?"

He stared up at me for a long time, so long in fact that I began to wonder if he had understood the question. Just before I was set to repeat it, he answered me.

"Ya shoulda been on the top, Patty... Why weren't ya on top? Things woulda been vherry differen' if you'd been on top..."

"James, what are you talking about..."

"They leff here thish mornin'. I yelled en then they yelled en then they leff. I don' know where they are. Maybe Ohio..." James said as his head swiveled over to stare at the flames flowing up in the hearth.

I stepped over to the gun case and returned the pistol to its usual spot. As I did, I continued to be troubled by the fact that my husband - who rarely drank alcohol even at parties - was sitting there completely smashed.

"James, darling," I said as I came back and knelt at his side, "how long have you been sitting here drinking and cleaning you pistol?"

"Wha time izit?"

The smell of liquor on his breath almost floored me. I looked at my watch.

"It's 4:12."

"In the mornin'?"

"Afternoon, James. It's 4:12 P.M."

James lifted his eyes to the ceiling in what must have been for him a Herculean effort of counting.

"Abou' sixsh hours... give or take... some'in'..."

"Why are you drinking, James?"

"Becaush there ain' no way I can tell ya wha' I gotta tell ya sober!"

"Liquid courage, eh?"

"Damn straigh', woman! Ya may wanna load that pistol. That's why I cleaned it, Patty. Alwaysh make shure your weap'n is clean before ush!"

I let that remark pass, but it really bothered me. James had just hinted that I was going to want to shoot him once he told me what he apparently needed to tell me. In all the years I had known this man, I don't believe we ever had more than a passing argument. 

"James, dear," I tried again, "what is going on, here? Why did you yell at the kids?"

He motioned for me to take the other chair. I did, but first I pulled it around so that my back was to the fireplace.

"If you'd juss been on top, Patty-melt-ma-heart," he began using his over-sweet nickname for me, "ya wouldn' haff ta ashk. You'd already know, but ya don' know, do ya? I know ya don' know 'cause yer still speakin' ta me. Ha! They say tha' wha' ya don' know can kill you... or ish tha' wha' ya do know can kill ya? Anyway, I wish I didn' know what I know... wha' I've known for almosh twenty-eight yearsh... wha' I've only known for 'bout eight hours..."

"James, you are not making any sense. You're drunk! It's ok, I'll call Rachel to find out where they are..."

"No!" he yelled with almost normal clarity, "No, Pat, I told them not to speak with you until I had a chance to tell them... Oww! God-damn head... Don't make me yell again, Patty. Jesus... Just sit there a let me get through this shit in one go. Ok?"

"Ok, James. But you've got to start making sense or I will call her."

"Ok, Patty, ok. Look... do ya remember the first time we made love?"

"Of course I do, but what does that have to do..."

"Just tell me, Patricia," James demanded.

"It was the week after we buried Abby. Six days, actually..."

"Uhuh!" he said in a not-quite-believing way, "And just how many children do we have together, my dear?"

"Three, James..."

"Three? I don't recall anymore children being born after Sarah and James, Jr."

"You adopted Rachel when she was five, honey!" I said with more than a bit of exasperation in my voice. "You're the only father she's ever 

known... Peter, too! You know that!"

"You are so right, Patty-melt-ma-heart! But, you're right for the wrong reason..."

"Jim, you're still not making sense! I'm going to call Rachel..."

"I caught her on top o' him this morning. You shoulda been on top, Patty... You shoulda been..."

Time stopped. I tried to process this verbal slap on the face that my loving husband had just delivered, but I dared not interpret it the way I thought he meant it.

"You mean..."

"I mean Rachel was ridin' Peter's considerable cock like she'd been doin' it for years... which, it turns out, she has."

I rose slowly from my seat and stood over James...

"They were fucking?!" I yelled. 

"Each other, in fact," James stoically nodded. "Good technique, too. Lotta hip. So, Patty, that's worth wha'... a half bottle a booze, don'cha think?"

I saw that the tumbler on the table next to the bottle still had about two fingers worth of scotch in it. I grabbed the glass and sent its contents down my gullet in one, fluid motion. Then I collapsed back into the chair. Carefully, James re-filled the tumbler and handed it to me. 

"It gets worsh, Patricia."

"What could possibly be worse than that?" I asked.

"They... are... married, my dear wife... to each other."

It was then I learned never to ask what could be worse, because you just might find out. My extremities began shaking and it quickly went to my core. The nurse in me knew exactly what was happening: I was going into shock. James understood, as well. That is why he did what he did. He grabbed the glass from my hand, returned it to the table, and then he wobbly stood up and slapped me hard across my face. It was just what my poor, addled brain needed to re-align the electrical malfunction that this new bit of data had created in me. Then I remember James almost falling to the floor as he tried, successfully, to retake his seat.

My cheek burned, but the shaking had stopped and I was momentarily out of danger. I allowed my body to be absorbed by the chair's plushness. Tears were streaming down from both eyes, providing both a salve and a lubricant to my skin. I rubbed them into my stinging cheek. James sat in silence, wisely deducing that I needed time to think. Or, maybe he was still in his own kind of shock.

Either way, we sat there for some measure of time - I'm not sure how long. We sat in silence. We sat there drowning our sorrows in the liquids of our own choosing.

"How can they be married?" I finally asked almost in a whisper. "They're practically siblings, for Christ sake!"

"Not according to the Washtenaw County Clerk's Office, Patty. They may have been raised as brother and sister, but as far as the state of Ohio is concerned, their Michigan birth certificates say they are cousins, and apparently first cousins can legally marry in the great state of Ohio."

This was, of course, news to me. I let it sink in for another moment, then I continued my questions.

"James, tell me about this morning. I thought you were going shopping for tonight's barbecue. How did you catch Peter and Rachel screwing?"

"Ya really wanna know, Patty? "Cause if ya do, I'll tell ya in all its gory detail."

I thought about it for a few seconds, then I reached again for the tumbler and took a sip.

"Tell me."

"Ok, but don't blame me if you either throw up, get horny or both!"

Sins of the Father Pt. 02



Chapter Two: Friday, July 4th, 2003, 5:00 P.M.

James motioned for the glass and I handed it to him. He finished it, filled the tumbler with the remaining scotch and handed it back to me. I waved it off, so he unsteadily set it down on the table next to the now empty bottle.

"As I remember, ya left for the hospital at 5:00 am," James continued. "I had gotten up aroun' four to make breakfast for us. We decided to let the kids sleep in since they'd arrived late last night."

"I remember," I replied. "You were planning on going grocery shopping early."

"Right! An' I did, after leavin' the kids a note sayin' that they were on their own for breakfast. After doin' some chores and writin' out a list, I managed to leave here juss affer eight. But, I'd driven 'bout two miles down Carpenter Road when I realized that I'd left the checkbook back in the kitchen. So I come back. But instead of comin' in through the garage, I parked my car ou' at the curb and come in through the front door."

"Why, James?"

"No p'icular reason... juss thought it'd be faster than waitin' for the garage door ta open. Anywaysh, as soon as I close the door, I hear a moan comin' from the secon' floor. Then I di'tinctly hear Rachel say 'Fuck me with that big, gnarly cock of yours, Pete! Fuck me forever, baby. Don't stop until you fill me with your thick seed!'"

"Kinda sounds familiar..." I said to no one in particular.

"Yeah. I think she stole it from your playbook, Patty. Anyhow, so by now I'm creepin' up the stairs ta see if my eyes are gonna back up my ears." 

James closed his eyes and paused here for a few seconds as if trying to form the words in his head. Then he resumed his story.

"They were on our bed, Patricia... screwin' like porn stars... on our king bed, OUR MARITAL BED for Christ sake!"

"Did you make them clean..."

"No," he said as he waved his left hand and arm in the direction of the stairs out in the main hall. "It's still like it was - a total, stinkin' mess. When I got to the door, Peter had Rachel in the doggie, but he was making her back onto him, and she was doing it real fast." 

"Patty... she shaved off her pubes, baby... juss like you. Him too, for tha' matter. Her pussy lipsh were really swollen and a dark red. Pete's dick is long and fat. But, it was only red near the end. Every time she backed onto him, I could hear her pussy squelch, Patty - that's how moist she was!"

"Every so often, she would kind of freeze up with the tip o' Pete's cock just at her entrance and then she would squirt one or two streams of cunt juice all over him. Patty, our bed is soaked with her juices and his jizz. I don' know how the hell were gonna get that smell outta it - tho' it's no worse than what we do, I s'pose..." 

"Believe me, James," I replied, "they will clean up that mess. I'm not going into our bedroom until they do, so if you ever want to fuck me like that on our bed again, you will make them clean it up."

"Understood, Pat, understood," James said as he gave me a small salute.

"Now, back to what I saw. They changed positions after awhile. I was standin' right in the doorway, but they hadn' seen me yet." 

"Why didn't you say something, James, or stop them?"

"Patty, I don' know. I think I juss couldn' believe wha' I was seein'. Anyway, by now Rachel was on top o' him in the reverse cowgirl. At first, she was doin' all the work again. She has a great rack, Patty. Must be at least a 34 bust with maybe D-sized tits. Real firm. She has large areolae. They were really erect and her nipples stuck out like haff an inch. They were bouncin' 'round like crazy and every so often, Peter would grab him a han'-full o' tit and squeeze or sometimes he would juss pinch Rachel's nips and make 'er scream. But after a few minutes, she got tired and he took over." 

"Boy oh boy, is that kid ripped! Peter just picked her up like she weighed nuttin', Patty. She was completely off the bed and he was poundin' up into her like a machine. Then he buried his bone all the way up her slot and I swear I could see his spunk pumpin' its way outta his big balls!"

"Was he wearing a condom, Jim?"

"No he wasn't, honey. Your hunk of a nephew was fucking your older daughter bare-backed! And your sweet, little princess was a tellin' him that she could feel every last ounce of it. Patty, there was so much 

cum flowin' out 'round Peter's cock. Take 'nother drink before I tell you what she said next."

James handed me the tumbler. I did as my slowly sobering husband requested: I took a draw. My head was beginning to spin from a combination of the scotch and his lurid descriptions. My panties and pantyhose were beginning to get moist and my breasts were swelling and my nipples becoming sensitive. It took me a moment, but I gave the glass back to James and he finished it off. Mission accomplished: one dead soldier down. The only question was whether or not we were going to kill the other one.

"You ready, Patty?"

"No, but tell me anyway, Jim."

"Ok. As Peter's cum is leaking outta her, Rachel says to him, 'Too bad I'm already pregnant, honey. I just love it when we...' That's when she opened her eyes and saw me standing there in the doorway, Patty."

"What did she do?"

"She said, 'Hi, Daddy.' in that sweet, little girl voice of hers. And then Peter saw me and they both scrambled to get out of our bed. Cum 

was flying everywhere and then I started yelling at them. Don' ask me what I said, Pat. I don' remember and I can't say for sure what they said to me. At that point, I went back down stairs and came in here."

"About ten minutes later, Peter comes in dressed and he sits in the chair you're sittin' in. That's when he told me that he and Rachel were married. I didn't say anything to him. He could see that I had been crying. He apologized for both of them, and then he said that they were going to leave for a few hours. That's when I finally spoke up to ask him not to call you at work. I said I would tell you after you got home." 

"They finally left just after 9:30. A few minutes later, I pulled out my cleaning kit and grabbed the Ruger out of the cabinet. I don't know why, Patty. Maybe because I just needed something mindless to do while I sat there thinking what I was gonna say to you. Then, the more I thought 'bout it, the more scared I got. That's when I pulled out the scotch. That was around 10:00."

Now, I don't know if it simply hadn't registered with me or maybe the scotch was slowing down my brain function, but it suddenly dawned on me what James had said about one minute prior.

"Wait a minute, here! She's pregnant! Rachel is pregnant? With her cousin's baby! Let me get this straight, James; my twenty-five-year-old daughter has been knocked up by her cousin who is twenty minutes her junior. She is also married to said relative... and they decide to just come out of their respective bedrooms this morning after you left for the store... after not having spent as much as a minute here in the last three years... they come out and decide to screw themselves silly on our marital bed. Have I got it right?"

"As right as rain, darling," said James.

"I am going to kill them both! Those fuckers don't know who they're dealing with! I may be their mother, but I'm not going to stand for this shit." 

I started to get out of my chair, but James motioned me to sit back down.

"I can smell your scent, Patty-melt-my-heart. I know what you need, baby. Let me help lessen the stress."

At that point, James slid out of his chair and onto his knees. I was so angry by this point that if my two oldest kids had been there, I might have actually tried to hurt them. 

If there is one thing my husband knows about me it's that sex is a great reliever of stress. Nursing is a very stressful profession. Surgical nursing even more-so. Because of my husband, the stresses of my job have rarely been a problem. This wasn't the first time I had been, temperamentally, where I was, so James knew what to do.

He scooted over to where I was seated and began to massage my legs. After awhile, he reached up my skirt, grabbed hold of both my hose and my underwear, and slowly pulled them off my body. I raised my hips to make it a bit easier for him.

James went back to rubbing my aching, forty-five-year-old legs. (I hadn't noticed until just then that they were achy.) Then he again reached under my skirt, but this time he put his large hands around my 

butt and pulled my now distended and leaking kitty to his waiting tongue and lips. I experienced a mini orgasm just anticipating what was about to happen. Like I said, my husband really does know what I need.

Usually, James begins with light kisses on the area around my pussy. Not this time! The last forty minutes had already been a kind of torturous foreplay. He could smell that I was way past ready. His mouth hit me like an electric prod: I was gone... eyes rolling to the back of my sockets gone... and I mean instantly!

I also am a squirter. James loves to drink from my fountain. I know for sure that he must have opened wide and let it all in: there wasn't so much as a damp spot on the chair!

At some point, he had been able to get his seven inch cock out of his jeans. Before I had a chance to come down from the heights, he had lined himself up and begun to pound his meat into me.

"You like that tight pussy, don't you, stud! I said. "You like fucking nurses, huh?"

"I like fucking pussies that look like my daughter's pussy," James responded. "Her's and yours look just the same, Patty, right down to those thick, meaty lips."

"Ooo! You wanna do some role-play? Then, call me 'Rachel', Daddy! Fuck my cunt, Daddy. Make me slick with your sperm. Plant a baby in me!"

"Oh, Rachel, honey... Daddy has wanted to fuck you since you turned eighteen. I'm gonna shoot a wad of spunk up into you so far that you'll still be getting preggers from it five years from now!"

The thing you have to know about James is that he means what he says and he does what he means. His hips were slamming into me harder and faster than I'd experienced in years. It felt great on my clit and I could tell that I was about to have one hell of a vaginal orgasm. The only problem was, I hadn't inserted my diaphragm! Yes, at the age of forty-five, dear reader, I had yet to go through menopause. I was still as regular and as fertile as Rachel. And just like Rachel, I was taking my husband's cock bare-back. Only, I hadn't planned on getting pregnant again. 

Almost before I realized, it was here. James let out a huge bellow and began to cum in my quivering pussy. His release triggered my own. There was only one thing I could think to say, so I said it.

"Thank you, Daddy, for giving me your baby."

"You're welcome, Rachel..." 

Then it hit him exactly what we'd done.

"Oh, shit, Patty, we forgot 'bout your diaphragm!"

"Don't worry, honey," I said languidly. "If I get pregnant, I get pregnant. I've always wanted us to have an even four kids."

James pulled his shrinking cock from my pussy and sat himself back in his chair. He looked like he was in pain. At the time, I attributed it to the fact that he had fucked me while drunk - not exactly a smart thing for any man to do. 

I lifted my skirt to examine my crotch. No sperm was leaking from me which meant that most of it had probably been vacuumed up into my womb by my spasming cervix. James' cock was still hanging out and 

threatening to stain his chair's cushion. That, to me, was unacceptable, so I slid off my chair and knelt before him. I took hold of his still sizable organ and proceeded to suck and lick it clean. I have always loved slurping our combined juices off my man's spear! Once James realized what I was doing, he placed a hand behind my head as a way of encouraging me:

"My little girl likes sucking on her Daddy's dick, huh?"

"Your daughter loves her daddy's 'Knobby-Wand Kenobi."

At hearing this, James burst out laughing. I probably hadn't referred to his tool by that name in ten years. I had given his cock that label because of a series of lumps that were on the top-side of the shaft. They had the effect of providing constant stimulation to my clit and G-spot. To me, it felt like Ben-Wa Balls on a stick. Heavenly!

"You know, only us Jedi Knights are man enough to wield it." 

"I don't want to wield it, darling... I just want to derive pleasure from it. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough, Patty. But, don't get too comfortable, there's more I've got to tell you. And, baby, this part you are really going to hate... It's a 'sins of the father' kind of thing."



Sins of the Father Pt. 03







Sins of the Father Pt. 04



Chapter Five: Friday, July 4th, 2003, 6:30 P.M.

Have you ever experienced an out-of-body moment? You know... a time when you were both observer and participant of the same event? Well, that was me when Rachel's voice jerked my head around. My eyes were immediately drawn to her tummy, expecting to see some visible evidence of my husband's story. She looked as slim and fit as she always had been as a teenager. Then, I let my eyes drift up to her face and saw it. In fact I remember thinking at the time, "I wonder how I missed her 'glow' before now?" It was then that I had the feeling that I was watching myself looking at Rachel. Very weird!

Pregnant women often times have a certain look to their skin. There has been some debate about this phenomenon in the medical field with many doctors discounting it. But I know what I've seen, and I've seen it quite often. My daughter had it right then, but I hadn't seen it at 11:00 P.M. the night before.

Neither I or my husband had made a response to Rachel's confession up to this point, and I guess she took our silence as a reason to continue.

"Mom, Dad... Peter and I are so sorry about how all this came out. Please know that it was planned to happen in a very different way. We don't blame you if you hate us and never again want to have anything to do with us. We would like to..."

She never got the chance to finish her thought at that moment... I was too quick with my embrace. I crossed the seven feet separating us and hugged her so hard that it was like I was trying to force her body into mine. She let me know that it was a bit too much for her.

"Mom! Too hard. You're squeezing the life outta me!"

I eased up and brought my hands to either side of her face and looked square into her hazel eyes:

"There is nothing you or Peter could ever do to lose my or your father's love for the two of you. But, little girl... you are up to you neck in trouble. I am so angry with you that I'd like to put you over my knee and spank you like I had to when you bit James Junior on his finger!"

"I'm not your 'little girl' anymore, Mom, but I probably deserve a spanking."

"Yes you do! And don't believe for one minute that just because you are almost twenty-five, that automatically makes you an adult. So-called 'little girls' are females who go and make really stupid choices - like knowingly getting impregnated by their brother! You want to explain that one, Rachel?"

"Not without Peter next to me, Mom."

"Where is he?"

"He's on his way in from the garage. I came in first to kind of 'smooth the path' for his entrance."

Now my husband found his way into this conversation:

"Entrance? Why the need for all this suspenseful drama? Hasn't the day already been dramatic enough?"

"Mom, perhaps you had better sit back down."

"Jesus and Mother Mary, Rachel... now what!? Okay, I'm sitting."

I really wasn't prepared for what Peter was about to do when his sister/cousin (now wife) called out for him to come into the lounge. No, I mean it... I really wasn't ready in spite of the fact that by now, dear reader, you have probably already figured it out. Well, jolly good for you! Just remember that you aren't where I was that day, ok?

My nephew Peter is six feet, three inches tall in his socks. He looks even larger with a two-year-old boy perched in his arms, let me tell you!

Have I told you yet to never, and I mean never, ask what worse thing could happen to you? Let me just say that it sucks to find out that you've been a grandmother for over two years. It's a smack across the face that stings much worse than finding out about the sex lives of your children.

But, let me also say that my husband and I also never saw a more handsome young man than the one who was looking at me at that moment.

"Petey, say 'Hi' to your grandma and grandpa," my nephew/son/son! said to the little boy.

"Hello, gammy. Hello, gampa."

Peter is a very smart man: never explain your actions when there is a cute two-year-old available. I asked my husband later, and, yes his heart also melted.

Then the little show-stopper had to go and reach out his arms to me. When his father placed Petey on my lap, I began to cry the sweetest tears of joy any woman ever let flow. That's when I looked up at my children and said:

"You're both still up to your necks in trouble! We need to talk."

"Peter," began my daughter, "you brought in the portable crib and the rest of Petey stuff, right?"

"Sure, hon. It's in the kitchen."

"Mom, Petey had a pretty busy night and day over at the home of one of my sorority sisters. She has two under five and was glad to watch him. If it's okay with you, we'll take Petey upstairs and get him fed and settled in for the night in my old room." 

"While you and Peter are up there, you can clean up your father's and my bedroom. Don't come back down until you do," I curtly responded.

"Um, Mom," Peter began, "we already got the bedding stripped and we sprayed the mattress with some old pet stain remover we found in the upstairs utility closet."

"Did you open the widows? Cause I could smell the you-know-what all day. Still can, to some degree..." James said from his shocked, awed and seated position.

"No, Pop. But I'll get to it asap! Sorry... didn't think of that."

It took the better part of fifteen minutes for the two of them to get back down to the lounge. By then, it was time for Peter to go to the Amtrak Station over on Depot Street to pickup his younger brother and sister who were coming in from Chicago. (The twins told me later that they got used to train travel in Europe. I thought to myself how much taking American passenger trains might 'cure' someone of that habit.)

Before Peter left, it was agreed that Rachel would go ahead and fill us in on how their lives had gotten to the place where they had one child and another on the way. Believe me when I tell you that James was not the only one eying the liquor cabinet at that point!

Chapter Six: Friday, July 4th, 2003, 6:30 P.M.

So, Rachel escorted her husband to the kitchen entrance. James and I heard them exchange saliva and we both rolled our eyes in... what? a combination of disgust and exasperation, maybe? I don't know... that part is a bit hazy. But, it really doesn't matter, either.

The salient points are that she kissed him and then came back into the lounge. What she said next made James and I blush...

"Uh, it still smells kind of ripe in here, Mom. I see what Dad meant. Let me go get some air freshener and I'll..."

"That's us, dear, not you," I said. "Get the can of Glade if you want, but this room is not you guys."

Rachel looked at her parents like we must have looked at her about thirty minutes earlier.

"Eww, Mom! That is so TMI, but kinda kinky, too! Yet, do I really need the mental image of my parents shagging?"

"Try the actual image of your children doing it, Rachel," James replied. 

That stopped her in her tracks. She turned to her father and said:

"I'm sorry, Dad. You're right. Peter and I haven't done you any favors today, have we?"

"Yes you have, Rachel. You've given me a beautiful grandson and the knowledge of yet another grandchild on the way. Those are very big favors, young woman!"

"You know that I was talking about this morning, Pop. I'm so embarrassed that you saw me naked."

"And having sex," I added. "That's a double whammy!"

"Plus the added bonus of just who it was that you were having sex with," my husband continued.

Rachel nodded her head and then went after the can of air freshener. My husband took that as an opportunity to whisper:

"Why did you 'cop' to our copulation, Patty?"

"That's funny! So funny that I forgot to laugh! I'm not sure, James. Maybe just to remind her that they aren't the only ones who know how to make love in this house."

"Oh," James replied, "is that what we were doing when you were calling me 'Daddy' and I was calling you 'Rachel'?"

Kids always seem to pick the worst times to walk in on their parents' conversations. My daughter is no exception.

"What was that, Dad? Tell me that I didn't just hear you say that Mom was pretending to be me when the two of you were screwing in here earlier?"

Now it was our turn to be embarrassed. Damn! James and I were supposed to be the ones with the moral advantage. Rachel, however, was one person who understood the adage 'knowledge is power'. At this point in the story, she began to leverage that power like a pro.

"Show me," she calmly said.

"What?!" I heard my husband say.

"You heard me, Pop. Show me how you fucked Mom pretending to be me. Show me, or I'll call Peter and have him come back and collect Petey and me. He was going to be gone for at least an hour, Dad. Come on, Mom... are you telling me that you no longer like to have sex in front of other people?"

"How do you know about that, Rachel," I gasped.

"Aunt Abigail wrote Peter a letter for him to open when he turned sixteen. She let fly all our family's dirty little secrets, Mother. Really, you two are the ones who should be spanked. But, we still have time for that... later on, when the rest of our family gets here. For now, however, I want to see how my parents get it on. Strip or we're all gone... and none of us will ever come back!"

It wasn't until that precise moment that I fully understood the old saying, 'The apple doesn't fall far from the tree'. Then again, perhaps I shouldn't have been too surprised... after all, my husband did say something about the 'sins of the father'. I guess the same applies to mothers, too.

I looked at James and he at me. We both nodded our heads and began to shed our clothes. Rachel, on the other hand, sat down on the settee that was against the far wall to the left of the fireplace. She just watched.

I saw her smile as my skirt fell to the floor and my panty-less and hairless pussy came into view. She seemed equally impressed with my 38C rack when my bra fell away. I've always thought that my tits are one of my best features: very little sag and my nips are almost an inch long when I'm really excited... like I was at that moment.

James, on the other hand, really impressed our daughter with his cock. Rachel came over to him and looked down at it and actually reached out and grasped it... much to our mutual shock!

"Wow, Dad! Your cock looks almost the same as Peter's, except his glans is a bit bigger. And... you have the exact same bumps on the top just like him!" she squealed.

"Rachel, honey," I said as nicely as I possibly could, "please let go of my husband's prick, or I'll break your hand."

"Chill out, Mother dearest! This cock is going to be fucking me before too long, so what's a bit of a hand job now?"

With that, she let go of her father's 'johnson' and began to quickly take off her own clothing. Now I could see what my husband caught a glimpse of earlier that day. She was beautiful... much more-so than I was at her age, that's for certain. 

Rachel's boobs are at least two cup-sizes larger than my own, and her nipples bore the unmistakable signs of childbirth: larger areolae and darker, too. Like me, her pussy was meaty and hairless. At that moment, it also was dripping with desire. All-in-all, she was quite the little package built for sex. Like I said, the apple doesn't fall far...

The lust in her eyes was infectious - to me at least, but I believe also for James. Rachel licked her lips and reached into one of the rear pockets of her jeans that she had draped over the back of the settee and pulled out her cellphone. I thought she was about to snap a picture or maybe take a video of her father and I fucking. But, she didn't...

"Peter, honey? Yeah, it's me. Okay, just get back here as soon as they arrive. I'm about to fuck Mom and Dad, and I don't want Mom to have to wait too long for your cock, sweetheart. Yes, they're both naked and so am I. You want me to leave the connection open for you? You could put it on speaker-phone and let the rest of Ann Arbor hear." (To me, she mouthed, "Just kidding, Mom!")

I hoped she was, because both her father and I were about to have matching heart attacks! In the end, she said her 'goodbyes' and closed the clamshell. Then she tossed the phone onto the settee and came over to me.

She took my hand and led me over to the matching settee on the other side of the fireplace where she had me sit down. Rachel motioned for her father to come over and sit on the floor next to me. Then Rachel opened my legs and began to attack my labia!

It was clear from the first moments that my older daughter had done this before. Her technique for cunnilingus was amazing: first she dragged her short fingernails from both hands over my entire crotch; then she took those same fingers and separated my drenched folds; then her mouth and tongue seemed to be everywhere on and in my cunt at once!

Rachel has a longer than average tongue, and she knows how to please another woman with it. She batted at my clit with rapid strokes; she stiffened her tongue and fucked me with it; she added her fingers and even drove one of them into my asshole! (She told me two days later that she hoped her second child was a girl so that when she turned eighteen, she could teach her how to eat pussy!) 

Rachel went at me for over thirty minutes! I only know this because my husband was watching the clock. At first, Jim said he was stroking his dick and rubbing Rachel's back. About fifteen minutes into her assault, he tried to put a finger or two into Rachel's pussy. I distinctly heard her say:

"No, Dad! Fuck me with that beautiful prick of yours! Mom, your husband is going to fuck your daughter now and bust his nut deep inside her. Then I'm going to climb up onto you and plant my cum-leaking cunt over your hungry mouth so you can suck out all that sperm. Then, you have to share it with Dad before you both swallow! Do you understand?"

"Yes!" I screamed out. Jim also complied.

"Dad, get to it, now!

I opened my eyes just in time to see Jim mount Rachel and thrust his knobby cock deep into her core. 

"Ugh..." Rachel grunted. "Dad! I can feel every one of those bumps! Don't stop fucking me!"

He didn't pause or slow down for the rest of Rachel's time glued to my pussy. And when he came in her, I could feel her orgasm and mine happen at the same time. True to her word, Rachel quickly jumped off her father's dick and onto my chest where she planted her vagina onto my mouth. 

I sucked on my daughter's sweet crease for another twenty minutes (swallowing most of her tangy discharge, I confess); long enough for Peter to return with the twins and Rachel to experience many orgasms. 

When I heard the front door open, I remember thinking to myself:

"O man... now what?" 

That 'what' turned out to be both worse than I could have imagined... and better!



Sins of the Father Pt. 05



Chapter Seven: Friday, July 4, 2003, 7:30 P.M.

So, there we were - James, me and our daughter Rachel - in our lounge... with me continuing to vacuum my husband's considerable, spermy load from my daughter's very puffy pussy.

Sarah, for some reason, immediately ran up the stairs carrying something in her arms that I couldn't quite make out. Our two boys, on the other hand, came right into the lounge and began to strip without saying a single word.

We all watched as they came over to where I was laying on the settee. They picked up their naked sister; each brother in turn kissing her on the lips. What they did next was astounding to me and Jim!

It was like being on the set of a porn movie, only the action wasn't staged for anyone but the participants - in this case, three of my children! There was some foreplay (though certainly no need for any): my sons' mouths and hands caressing Rachel's sweaty body; electrifying every possible nerve-ending. Then, Jimmy lay on his back with his wide girth proudly pointing skyward. Rachel crawled over to him, turned around to face his feet and very carefully and smoothly sheathed his cock in her ass!

Once her groin made contact with his, Peter knelt down and offered Rachel his tool to drool over for a short time. Then, he pushed his cousin/sister/wife back onto her brother's chest and began to shove his saliva-coated cock into Rachel's tight slot that was still oozing her father's potent baby-makers. Jim and I watched, transfixed, as the three of them screwed like pagans!

After a while, my husband came over and we swapped what little of his seed I still had in my mouth back and forth, then swallowed what we each had as per our agreement.

For ten more minutes, Rachel's brothers fucked her to the stars and beyond. On some wordless cue, they pulled out, scrambled to their feet, and sprayed her with their combined discharge from her face down to her distended labia. Then, they came over to where I was and those two young studs pretty much started over with me! 

They made me kneel in front of them and clean their slimy tools and get them hard enough for more fucking. (Fortunately for me, Rachel's ass was clean!) Then they got down there with me. Peter got on his back - his now rejuvenated pole standing up proudly. My son James picked me up and and very carefully set my pussy down over his brother's cock, with me facing Peter. I slipped down Peter's rod and had a powerful orgasm! I felt Jimmy push my back down, my tits pressing onto Peter's chest. Peter helped by hugging me. Then James Jr. squatted down behind me. 

I looked back and saw him holding onto his seven inch phallus that seemed to be the diameter of a pop can! I was alarmed, because I thought he was about to shove that monster up my ass. But, remember what I said about not asking what worse things could happen?

Sarah got back to the lounge just in time to see her twin begin to push his fat cock into her mother's already over-stuffed cunt!

"Oh, wow, Mom... your world is about to get rocked! I love it when they do this to me!"

"What did you just say, Sarah?! Ooooooo my Gooodddd!! James! they are splitting me in twooooo!!"

James stood there with his mouth agape as his sons double-penetrated their mother's pussy with their above-average-sized tools! How can I describe the feeling? How about giving birth in reverse? I'll give my son James good marks for the patient and careful way he just about killed me. It took about ten minutes of slow, rhythmic entry for me to suddenly realize that both these boys were bumping up against my cervix! Oh, man! It was starting to feel really good at that point.

Now, did my loving husband do anything to help me? Yes he did... he came over to my front, knelt down and offered me his cock to suck. I swallowed it immediately!

I quickly began to realize that Sarah must have been telling the truth about having experienced this. The boys established a very smooth rhythm; see-sawing their pricks into me; giving me the best kind of friction on my clit and G-Spot. I was swooning - orgasms washing over me at a rate of about two every five minutes. And they were making this moment even better with their banter:

"Come on, Peter... pound her good! Her pussy is so hot! Can you feel it?"

"Yeah, Jimmy, and she's juicing so nice like a mother's cunt should for her sons' cocks! Should we bust our nuts inside her or come all over her face?"

My husband, at that moment, had to go and be his normally helpful self:

"Boys, she doesn't have her diaphragm in and this is her most fertile time of the month!"

"Peter! Did you hear that! One of us could impregnate Mom! Let's do it. Second comer gets to let his swimmers surf on the first one's wave! I can hold off longer than you can!"

"No way, Jose! I have far better control than you do. Just ask Rachel!"

'Hey," his cousin/sister/wife said, "don't get either me or Sarah involved. It's all on how tight Mom can squeeze you with her pussy muscles!" 

For over thirty minutes, my sons relentlessly pounded my cunt into submission... trying not to be the first to blow his wad into me. I loved it!It was by far the best fucking I have ever had. 

Sarah had the good sense to pull out her cellphone and begin recording the action. Let me describe to you what she got:

She aimed her phone's camera right at the juncture of my double-plugged pussy such that the proof of our incest filled the entire screen. There was so much moisture, and you could easily hear their dicks slosh back and forth through my taut folds.

My outer labia were huge and purple! And they were stretched just about as far as possible. About fifteen minutes into the action, my crotch area began to spasm and a jet of female ejaculate drenched my sons' groins. Then, they both came in me within seconds of one another. James said:

"Let's keep going, bro. I can stay hard if you can!"

So, that's what they did. Sarah kept recording. She caught how their combined seed leaked out my quivering pussy and around their turgid shafts. My sons kept this up for another fifteen minutes! No porn scene was ever more explicit or nasty!

I remember thinking at the time that I felt like the whore I'd always been, but had put aside for two decades of domestic bliss. All the while, I chewed and drooled on my husband's tool until he blew his own load down my throat. Then, he collapsed onto his back whereupon Sarah handed her phone off to Rachel and then proceeded to clean off her father's cock right in front of me! That revved me up even more.

I could tell that Peter and James Jr. were both reaching the end of their abilities to hold back their second inseminations. Their movements began to get 'jerky'. Again, they both coated my cervix just milliseconds apart. Their convulsions lasted for over a minute.

My son James came out of me first. He reached down and easily picked me up and off of his brother's dick and flipped me over in his strong arms. Then Peter got up from the floor and both boys quickly took we upstairs to Peter's old bedroom where they gently laid me back on the bed. James got two pillows and, while Peter held my legs aloft, put them under my butt.

"What are you two doing?"

"We're helping you to get pregnant, Mom," Peter said as if I were being completely forgetful about how to maximize pregnancy. (In truth, I had forgotten.)

"You know, boys, your father beat you to it about two hours ago."

"We figured," said my son James, "but his sperm is going to get over-taken by ours in short order. So, chances are, one of us will become father to our own sibling!"

"Cool! Huh, Mom!" added Peter. "You'll be both Mother and Grandmother at the same time!"

"Yesss," I hissed. "Just peachy, Peter. What am I going to do with the two of you?"

"Fuck us some more!" said both boys in unison.

With that, my son and my nephew each bent down and took a nipple into their mouths and sucked hard. Then they each used one of their hands to stimulate my clit and pussy lips. They were attempting to bring me to one last orgasm... one that would vacuum up all their sperm resting now at the bottom of my vagina just waiting for the chance to go find an egg of mine happily floating down my fallopian tube (without a clue to the horde about to mob it, I would add), and complete this incestuous romp. They didn't stop until they had given me four more... the bastards!

Chapter Eight: Friday, July 4th, 2003, 9:00 P.M.

I must admit, orgasms do do wonders for getting pregnant. 

Eventually, the boys (naked with cocks again erect!) left me to rest for a time on Peter's bed. When I felt myself strong enough, I got up on my elbows and looked down at my pussy to examine it first for damage and then to see if I were leaking spunk. Amazingly, it wasn't bleeding or even sore. All those orgasms, maybe? I don't know. Also amazingly, nothing was coming back out.

Of course, my pelvis was rotated back and all that cum was probably now sloshing around in my uterus, but you would have thought that at least SOME of it would have escaped! No way, Jose!

About twenty minutes later, I began hearing sounds (that could only be described as those coming from an orgy) wafting up from downstairs. I remember thinking to myself, "I can only imagine!" Of course, then I realized that I didn't have to imagine because I'd essentially just been on the receiving end of an orgy. I was getting very curious as to who was doing what to whom when I thought I heard a sound coming from a certain young grandson of mine.

Not wanting to go in to check on him in my birthday suit, I got out of Peter's old bed and made my way back to my own bedroom. When I went in, I was startled to see that the bed had been remade and that the room itself smelled just fine. I, on the other hand, smelled like old, stale gym clothes.

That was another thing I could not allow my grandson to notice, so I very quickly sponged myself off in our master bathroom, put on some panties (making sure to add a panty-liner), slipped on some jogging shorts and one of James' t-shirts, and went down to Rachel's old room.

When I opened that door, I got yet another shock: whereas Petey was asleep, in one of our old bassinets (that someone had retrieved from the attic) lay a baby that could not have been more than four months of age! It was a little girl... my granddaughter, apparently... by Sarah, perhaps? Right then, I wasn't sure. The little bundle was awake and smelled like she needed changing. Again, my emotions kept bouncing from anger to joy. But, when she looked up at me and cooed... I lost it for the second time! 

I decide that it was time for that little tramp (whichever daughter of mine it was who was this child's mother) to get up here and do her job. 

So, I left the little princess in her bed and made my way downstairs. When I walked back into the lounge, my nostrils were immediately assaulted by my 'before sponge-bath' odor... times ten! And let me describe for you what I saw:

My husband and Peter were double-teaming Sarah in her very sloppy pussy. She looked exactly how I must have looked, except that my husband was on the bottom and Sarah was on her back on top of him. He was massaging her very large rack and her nipples were leaking copious amounts of milk. That, to me, seemed problematic. But, it at least solved the mystery of who the recent mother was! 

I stood there for a long while watching them fuck. It was intoxicating! Sarah's eyes were rolled up so that all I could see were the whites of her orbs. And she was vibrating! I adjusted my angle and bent down so that I could see where their three groins met.

It was apparent that my husband and Peter had already come inside her; their ejaculations combined with her fluids was frothy and thick, so much so that it was adhering to their genitals instead of dripping off.

Eventually Sarah saw me next to her and gave me a big, breathy smile. Then she shot off so violently that her feet came off the floor with one foot almost knocking me over! What can I say? My daughter Sarah is a little fuck-toy, and loves being one for every adult member of her family. (She told me just last year that she strongly feels this is what she was born to be. Funny, I thought it had something to do with her abilities in math and physics!)

Well, Peter was not wasting any time. He would repeatedly slam his long, thick cock into the very depths of his little cousin/sister and then pull out his tool and slap it hard on her clit. He did this 'dance' over and over again until Sarah screamed and squirted so hard that she expelled her father's cock! That's when I switched my view.

Over on the other side of the room, James Jr. was seated in one of the high-backed chairs while his sister Rachel was slowly rocking her cunt back and forth over his crotch... Jimmy's bone buried deep in her garden. He, meanwhile, was alternating between her tits; giving them both a major-league tongue-bathing. Both of my daughters were moaning in absolute ecstasy. My three men were like orgasm-giving machines. I was very proud of them.

As I watched from the sidelines, Sarah went into convulsions and her father began to pump her full of whatever remaining sperm he had in him. It must have been considerable, for quite a bit of it came out of her around both their cocks. He ceased his thrusts and just remained steady as Peter continued his own movements. Two minutes later, he, too, came and the flush of spunk from Sarah's quim was repeated.

Just like they had done to me, Peter lifted his little sister off her father and held her in his arms. Then my husband got up, wobbly, I might add, and that's when the men saw me standing there.

"Are you trying to get knocked up, again, Sarah?" I asked (very sweetly, I thought).

My husband scrunched his brow and said, "Again?" and looked at his very naughty daughter.

"Yes, Daddy," she said sweetly. "It's been three months since my daughter Abigail was born and I'm ready to get pregnant again. Jimmy insisted that you or Peter father my next child."

"He did, did he?" asked her irritated father.

"Yeah, Pop," she said. "I think incest is by far the best sex there is. Screwing my brothers and Rachel licking my kitty always gives me the best orgasms! If I don't get fucked at least twice every day by my brother, I get really cranky. And now that my father has fucked me, that gives me three big cocks to rock my world anytime I want."

"Are you ovulating, Sarah?" Peter asked, excitedly.

"Yes. Today and tomorrow are my peak days this month. That's why we came home when we did. Please say you'll both fuck me again and again. But I really hope it'll be your seed, Daddy, that takes me. I really want my father to father my next sister/daughter or son/brother!"

James looked at me incredulous. I simply smiled and reminded him that there was a good chance that one of his sons had impregnated their mother. He smiled back and said to Peter:

"Give this little wench to me! I'll show her how to get pregnant!"

"That's great, dear. You have my blessing to do so, but first the 'wench' will have to change her daughter's diaper and possibly feed her... if the two of you left that baby any milk!"

"Right, Mom!" Sarah said. "Dad, can you carry me upstairs to do that?"

'Sure, sweetheart. But please allow me to change my granddaughter's diaper. You, young lady, need to nurse while you rotate that pelvis back and gestate!"

"Dad," Peter added, "while you're doing do-do duty, I'll stay with Sarah and give her some more orgasms."

"You 'ok' with that Sarah?" I asked her.

"Sure, Mom. What are you going to do?"

"Well, I have a certain son whose very wide cock I would like to have in my pussy, again. I'll be fine, dear. Like your father said, you just go and gestate."

While the three of them went up to take care of their to-do or do-do lists, I walked over to Jimmy and Rachel who were still humping to their hearts' content, only now on the oriental rug. Rachel's thighs were pressed back against her chest with her ankles over her brother's shoulders. Meanwhile, my son James was slamming his thick prick into his sister with quick jabs followed by very slow extractions from her pussy. Every time he did this, I could see her cunt quiver as his knobby, purple piston scraped its way back through every fiber of her pleasure core.

She was being tortured with the sweetest song: bare-assed, bare-backed, incestuous love-making. Sweat was pouring off her forehead; she was obviously experiencing orgasm after orgasm from her brother's slow assault on her womanhood; and she was screaming for him to come, again! "How many time had he come already?" I thought. So, I asked him.

"Three, Mom... just inside Rachel in the last thirty minutes alone! I produce a lot of come every day."

"Too bad your brother already got her pregnant, Jimmy, you might have scored a trifecta: Rachel, Sarah and me!"

"That's ok, Mom. I already nailed Rachel here," he said as he let loose for a fourth time into his smiling, now-satisfied sister. "Petey mine! We got tested to see which of us was the father. Whoever got her first had to let the other get her pregnant the next time."

"Then who is the father of that little, pink bundle upstairs?"

"Abigail's also mine. I got Sarah pregnant just before we left for our hosteling trip through Europe."

"How in heaven's name did you travel for a year in Europe with a pregnant woman?"

"It was pretty easy, Mom. Your daughters love to fuck when they're pregnant! But, you should know that Sarah and I got married in Albania. We were told that it should be legal in the States, too."

"You and Sarah are married?!" I echoed, with alarm.

'Way to go, bro!" Rachel exclaimed. "So, you decided to join the cult, huh?"

"What a family I have!" I said. "So, Rachel... do you like to screw when your pregnant?"

"Yeah, Mom. For some reason, pregnancy really sends my libido into overdrive.

"Just like me..." I responded.

"Can't wait to see that for myself," Jimmy said as he rolled off Rachel and immediately went to work sucking every last drop of his own seed from her tender pussy. (He was a gentleman and let me swallow some of it, too.)

Rachel continued to lay there and experience mini-orgasms as her brother serviced her post-coital needs. When he was done, he reached out a hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet. She looked at me and said:

"Do we still need to have that talk, Mom?"

"More than ever!"

"Ok. Then, I'm going to go get cleaned up a bit, put on some clothes and check in on my son - who also happens to be my nephew and my cousin!"

"What about you, Jimmy?" I asked my son.

"I don't know, Mom... wanna fuck me bareback again? I'll do to you what you just saw me do to Rach. Believe me, you'll love it." 

He did and I did. Damn-it if that boy of mine didn't pump two more loads of sperm into me! So, there I was twenty minutes later with my ass in the air... again!

But, the festivities were far from over... On, yeah! You had better believe that.



Sins of the Father Pt. 06



Chapter Nine: Friday, July 4th, 2003, 10:00 P.M.

You know, we never did do any grilling that day. We were all too tired from screwing one another! So we ordered some Domino's to be delivered to the house. (No! No one answered the door naked. We live in a nice section of AA.)

By now, we'd all gotten cleaned up and dressed in our respective night clothes. We stayed away from James' stash of beer in the garage out of deference to the twins' age (almost twenty-one) and the possibility that every adult woman in the house might be pregnant.

We had relocated ourselves to the dining room and the time seemed right for our children (and my husband) to explain themselves. I was all ears! Peter began by telling us about his mother's letter to him.

"Mom, Dad... I've thought about how I was going to say this, but then I realized that I could just let Mom speak for herself. If you don't mind, I'll just read her letter. It's really not that long, anyway.

James and I both nodded our heads and put down our food. Peter began:

"It's dated: February 5, 1982. 'My dear sweet Peter, It suddenly came to me last week that I'm not going to be around when you're a teenager to say to you what needs to be said. Right now, you are only three years old and can't understand. I've asked a good friend of mine to promise to give this letter to you on the occasion of your sixteenth birthday. That age seemed to me to be a good compromise between your ability to understand and my friend's ability to hold on to something like this. (Basically, she said thirteen years was her limit, so here we are.)

'So, now you are sixteen, and I've been dead and buried for a long time. If you remember me at all, it will be the most fleeting of images I'm sure. Such is life.'

'But, it is because of life that I'm penning these words to you, my son. I must tell you the truth of your origins, for only two other people in this world ever knew: the man who delivered you is dead; your biological father is too honorable a man to think to burden you with this news. Therefore, it is left to me - your mother - to say what needs saying. And that's perhaps as it should be; for I am ultimately responsible for the circumstances surrounding your birth and life.'

'You were conceived at a Halloween frat party, Peter. I had intended your father to be this boy I was dating. He had good prospects, but I really didn't like him all that much. On top of that, he was a middling lover at best. (Snicker, now, young man, but one day you will appreciate the importance of a partner who can 'rock your world'!)'

"I want to tell everyone here that I actually did snicker when I first read that," Peter interjected. He cleared his throat and continued.

'I'm just going to say this straight because that's how you deserve it: straight. You biological father is the same man you have probably always considered to be your father: my brother James. And, for that, I will always love him. He gave me you, Peter. Don't for one minute hate him or be disgusted with him because you were conceived in incest. It is not (necessarily) the evil that most people consider it to be. Though, too often, it is.'

'Now, understand this one thing: James never confessed this to me. I figured it out for myself. Please let me explain how I did that.'

'After you and your sister were born - yes, Rachel is your sister! Well, your half-sister, really. Anyway, after the two of you were born, James was the one person your Aunt Patty and I could count on to care for the two of you. We couldn't afford daycare, and James was a year out of high school. He gladly volunteered and we happily accepted. He has already been the best Dad any kids could have, and I just know he'll be a good role model for you later on.'

'Around your first birthday, I was really lonely because I hadn't had sex for a long time and I really liked sex. Well, I went into James' bedroom one night and I sexually attacked him. When his big penis went up into me, I knew he had been the one to get me pregnant. There was just something about the architecture of his organ that gave it away...'

'Anyway, I looked at him with horror in my eyes and immediately jumped off him. I ran back to my bedroom and wept into my pillow in shame. I was very angry with James for a week - not speaking to him and doing all the worst things a woman can do to the one man who loves her.'

'You must understand, Peter: it came to me one day soon after that my brother loved me. I knew this because he never once used his knowledge of what he'd done to tease, humiliate or gain advantage over me. I also knew he loved me because he loved you, my dear son! He will always love us both.'

'I then confronted James, and he confirmed what I had deduced. From then, we have been frequent lovers up until last month when my cancer was found to have spread to my brain. It is inoperable and will kill me soon enough.'

'I am not ashamed that you, Peter, were conceived in incest. Why? For the simple fact that so was I and so was my brother! We are both the product of two rapes forced upon our mother by her brother Thomas. (I go to my grave with you being the only other person in our family who knows this!)' 

'Thomas was sent to prison for the violence he forced upon your grandmother. He died there in a pool of his own blood and guts... writhing in agony... everyone (including the guards) watching and not helping, because they all knew what he had done. That was the only real justice the Michigan justice system dispensed on that terrible man! May he rot in hell!'

'Contrast that, however, with the love my brother and I share... the love (though deceptive at first) that brought you into this world.'

'So, there you have it, Peter. Share this letter with whomever you feel comfortable sharing it. I hope you will at least share it with your sister, Rachel (whom, up to now you thought of as your cousin). She needs to know when the time seems right to you.'

'All my love,

Your Mother'"

"That's it, folks. She added no postscript," Peter said.

James and I looked at one other, shell-shocked. It was obvious as day that he had never been told he was the product of an incestuous union. Then a smile crept over his face and he began to laugh. He laughed so hard tears were streaming down his cheeks and he fell to the floor.

When he finally got hold of himself, he got to his feet and said:

"The sins of the father are passed down to their sons to the seventh generation! I guess it's really true."

"True or not, James," I said, "you have to explain to me why you had an on-going relationship with Abigail for a year instead of with me?"

"Patty, I'm not going to lie to you... I had known for years that you had feelings for me. I also had feeling s for you, but Abigail asked me not to say anything to you. I think she knew long before her diagnosis that she had cancer. She never actually said it to me, but I think she wanted me for herself while she could still enjoy sex. The last time we made love, she told me to take good care of you. I took that as her giving me permission to marry you."

"Well," I responded, "that explains why she and I stopped having sex. I just chalked it up to her and me being too tired from work..."

I really wanted to ask my husband more about those early days in our marriage, but thought that many of those questions might be better asked in a private setting, so I decided to switch gears as it were:

"Ok, kids, spill your beans!"

Peter was the first to speak even though I could tell Rachel wanted to as well.

"Well, Mom. I told Rachel about the letter and let her read it for herself later that night of my sixteenth birthday. You know how we were back then..."

"Inseparable!" chimed in Sarah.

"Still are," added her twin. "Joined at the hip..."

"Speak for yourself, Rambone!" Peter retorted. "You fuck Rachel just as much as I do when we're both around her!"

"Kids, let Peter continue..." I said.

"Rambone?" my husband asked no one in particular.

"It's something I started, Dad," Rachel explained. "It has to do with his ramming technique with his fat cock. I don't know how it is for anyone else, but he makes me feel as if I'm being pounded by a fencepost!"

"Same here!" Sarah confirmed.

"Oh... ok..." my husband weakly said.

"As I was saying," Peter continued, "Rachel and I had always been close. After we read my mom's letter, we got to talking about sex between siblings... incest. It got us really turned on, and we made out in my bedroom for two hours."

"Oh, my God, Peter," I exclaimed. "Did you two start having sex at sixteen?!"

"God, no, Mom!" Rachel replied. "We wanted to, but we were too scared to actually fuck. Instead, we made a promise to each other to lose our cherries together on our eighteenth birthday."

"Is that why the two of you went out on your 'date' that evening?" my husband asked.

"Yes, Dad," Peter responded. "We went over to a friend's house. They were up north at their summer cottage and I had a key so that I could feed their cat."

"Peter and I screwed ourselves silly for more than three hours, Mom," Rachel added. "I knew, then, I was hooked on his 'Jedi Night Saber', as I call it. Hardly a day goes by that it isn't stabbing me deep and coming in buckets!"

You would have thought my daughter was a drug addict the way she was swooning over her brother. Then I realized that she was an addict... to sex!

My husband began to laugh... chuckle, really, and I asked why.

"Patty, she stole your line! Rachel, your mother calls my cock her 'Knobby Wand Kenobi'! I guess you both have a Star Wars fetish!"

Everyone laughed at that, including me. Then Sarah took over the tale.

"Dad, Mom," she began, "when me and Jimmy turned eighteen, Rach and Pete showed us the letter and told us what they'd been doing. Then, because you had to work and dad was gone at the Art Fairs, they watched as Jimmy and I fucked like rabbits for the first time!"

"That's also the day Peter and Jimmy tagged-teamed Rachel to see which one could get her knocked-up. You see, by then, they had already gotten married in secret in Ohio."

"Is that right, Rachel?" I asked.

"Sure is, Mom. My brothers tied me - standing - to a cushioned pole, secured my high-heeled feet apart, and deposited no less than ten loads of cum into my sweet pussy over a five hour period. I was in a continuous state of orgasm. Sarah also fucked me with a strap-on dildo that we still use on each other. After they all had their way with me, they carried me over to my bed where I laid quivering for over an hour. From that point on, not one drop of sperm left my body!" 

"As far as I'm concerned, every girl should get pregnant by her stud brothers... if she has them... or by her father, if she doesn't! To hell with boyfriends! If it isn't incest, it can't possibly be good sex."

"An interesting opinion, dear," I said, "but one not likely to be shared by too many mothers!"

"But, you're ok with it, Mom," Sarah said. "Why?"

"I'm not sure, honey. Maybe because I've always been someone who liked kinky and risky sex. Anyway, incest doesn't seem to have produced any deformed members of our family, so..."

"So, we're cleared to keep fucking each other?" asked Jimmy.

"Yep!" his father, responded. "Until our dicks fall off, I guess."

"Ok," I continued, "so that takes us up to March two years ago when you twins were in your junior year of prep school. When did you decide you wanted your brothers to impregnate you, Sarah?"

"Just a couple of weeks past my nineteenth birthday, Mom. I think it was in early April and I told my sibs that I was going off the pill so I could get pregnant before Jimmy and I went off to Europe. That way, my belly could get bigger away from your prying eyes, Mom. Sorry to deceive you..."

"I completely understand, honey."

"Peter and Jimmy gave me an entire weekend of orgasms - kind of a repeat of what we did to Rachel, only I'd say more like fifteen hours over two day... but no luck. So, Jimmy was on his own the next month, and that's how we know he's the father of both kids."

"Sarah, do you agree with your sister's incest 'philosophy'?"

"Oh, yes, Mommy! Incest is most definitely the best. I've even converted four of my friends from school... Beginning in our senior year, we had these rituals where the five of us gathered with our brothers to watch each couple fuck bare-back at the height of each girl's fertility. It was soooo hot, Mommy!"

"We've even made movies of all our fucking. We've cleared about $120,000 so far, just Jimmy and I. It would have been more, but we were away, you know..."

"Don't any of you kids worry about getting pregnant?!"

"No! That's what we all want. We've all borne children by our brothers. My friends Janice and Susan, in fact, each have two children by their older brothers! That's all part of the film series: taping sibs screwing from conception right up to just before delivery." 

"A few months later, we have another, non-sex segment showing off our babies so that the world can see that incest between brothers and sisters produces kids just about as healthy as any other coupling. That's another reason why Jimmy and I came back: we want to get pregnant, again, and we want to make a video showing off Abigail to the world."

We continued to talk for another hour or so and then went to our respective beds with our respective spouses. I don't know about anyone else in our home, but as I lay in bed listening to the fireworks going off in our neighborhood, I couldn't help but think how puny they sounded compared to the fireworks my family had set off inside our home that evening.

And that was just the beginning! What we did the next day was to watch Sarah and Jimmy's 'home' movies from off their website. Saturday turned out to be a repeat of Friday, only more so. But, it's Sunday that I next want to talk about!

Chapter Ten: Sunday, July 6th, 2003, 10:00 A.M.

By Sunday, my husband and sons had constructed a pole gizmo in the garage so that I could experience what my daughters' had gone through. Unlike them, though, I had at my disposal some extra stimulation. Of course, we recorded it. Here's what you would see if I allowed anyone other than my family to view it:

First, I should mention that there were three cameras filming me enter the space my men prepared. In the movie, I am led in, blindfolded and naked except for a pair of cherry-red high heels and a matching red bustier with a half-cup bra that pushed up and out my already considerable chest. Within this well-lit space I am completely in the dark. 

My son Jimmy (dressed at first) leads me over to this metal, wood and padded contraption. It has a metal framework from the floor up to where it's attached at the garage rafters. Near the middle, the frame opens to allow space for someone's head to easily pass through. Those particular poles are padded with some kind of plush carpet-like material, and there is a padded headrest at the base of the opening.

Bolted into the metal upright about two feet above the head opening is a matching metal cross-piece strengthened by corner braces bolted to the framework. In the middle of each crossbar is a heavy-duty, stainless steel 'O' ring bolted in place.

Into the floor of the garage, my boys had driven metal pins into the concrete about four feet apart from one another and about a yard away from the vertical pole. These served as the bottom anchor points for my fur-lined ankle cuffs.

As I watched the replay, Jimmy attached similar cuffs to my wrists and then climbed a small step-stool to link the cuffs to the 'O' rings by way of steel chains. Then he adjusted them until I was standing completely straight on my heels.

Peter (also dressed) then came into the frame and attached the cuffs to my ankles. Then he pulled each leg back to its floor anchor point and attached the cuff to it by way of a solid metal bar with clasps at either end. This had the effect of stretching me out so that I was almost on my tippy-toes. I had the sensation of falling and being unable to move at the same time!

On the screen, my sons leave and are replaced by my very naked and oiled-up daughters. They each hold in their hands containers of warmed oil which they proceed to pour all over me from head to toe. Then, using their own bodies, they proceed to rub that oil into my skin.

Then, it's their hands... all over me... all at once. Their hands... pinching, caressing, probing my pussy and my ass. Then, it's their mouths doing the same thing. I timed it. My daughters made love to me for over one hour! That was great, except... they never brought me to even a single climax!

I watched myself moan and shake in utter sexual frustration amid elegant and erotic foreplay. (My pussy gushed when I first viewed the movie!)

Two other things about this framework I haven't yet described to you, dear reader: there were two padded seats built and bolted to it; one so that a person could sit on the other side of the head opening such that their crotch could be accessible to the restrained person's mouth; the other so that a person could sit (upside down or normally) under the restrainee to gain easy and comfortable access to their genitals.

At this point, my girls attached strap-on dicks to themselves. These they proceeded to fuck my pussy and ass with - very slowly - over the next thirty minutes. Again, they would not let me cum. I was completely beside myself!

Then as I watched the replay, they walked off and took over the operation of two of the cameras. (I was watching a wonderfully edited version compiled from all three.) Then, my husband and his sons came into the scene, naked and sporting the biggest, stiffest erections I have ever seen on them! 

Without warning, my husband comes up behind me and slams his cock into my quivering ass and pounds me through three quick orgasms. Meanwhile, Jimmy is feeding me his tool through the head opening. Mind you, the only part of their bodies touching mine were their dicks. When they both abruptly pulled out, my body was left literally shaking and my brain on the verge of passing out.

At this point, my nephew Peter gives me a drink of water which I gratefully accept. Then, Jimmy proceeds to rub my nipples with ice cubes! You can clearly hear me howl in painful pleasure. This goes on for two or three minutes until my tits have gone numb.

Then Jimmy climbs on the seat under me while Peter is behind me, and they both seek entrance to my cunt with their crimson cocks at the same time. I am so turned on at this point that I can feel only pleasure from their insertions. From a couple of close angles, you can see them establish their rhythm and spend the next thirty minutes dumping their creamy loads into me over and over again until I actually do pass out. 

With my son and nephew still plugging me, my loving spouse comes into the frame and revives me, but does not release me. The boys pull out and immediately incestuous cum is dropping out of my wide open vagina in large, white globs. Someone brings a camera over and films it also gliding down my shaved, toned and oiled legs. Rachel and Sarah are filmed using their tongues to lick it all up and then transfer it to my mouth. As I watch the movie, it looks to me that I gulp down about a cup of the boys' sweet and tangy sperm!

The cameras are turned off and for thirty minutes, I am given more water and now, also, some 'real' food. But the blindfold remains as do the restraints. I am exhausted and exhilarated at the same time!

For over two hours, I have been at the center of all this sexual attention. When the cameras come back on, we do it all over again for another three hours. By the time they take me down, I feel as if I'd run a marathon!

At that point, the blindfold was removed and I was carried into the house and up to my bedroom where I slept for six hours. When I awoke, I came downstairs to the kitchen where everyone else was, except for Sarah's and Rachel's children who had been taken over to Rachel's friend's home earlier in the day. I turned to my adult children and said:




Sins of the Father Pt. 06



"My, my, but aren't you four kids the little, incestuous trend-setters!"

"I don't know about that, Mom," Rachel responded for the group. "All I do know is that the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree!"

Epilogue

Long story short: I got pregnant over that Fourth-of-July weekend. The father of that child was my nephew Peter, as it turned out. Sarah also got pregnant. She was inbred by her father. The next year, Jimmy gave me my final baby. He had gotten his trifecta! By mutual agreement, the respective husbands all claim the children of their wives. It makes the lines of relationship a whole lot easier to keep track of.

So, I am an incestuous bitch. What of it? My husband is an incestuous bastard, as is his son Peter, as are all my grandchildren and two of my children. I am now fifty-six years old. I have six children (including Peter) and twelve grandkids. They are, by-the-way, all healthy. Peter has fathered four, James Jr. five, and my husband three.

We paid to have our family's genome sequenced last year. The scientist who reported the results told us that we had the fewest markers for disease he had ever recorded in a single family line. He asked us how we managed it. James wanted to say something about 'the sins of the father', but we made him hold his tongue, for once. Instead, I said to him: "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, doc!"

What I wanted to say to him, but didn't, was:

"And, sometimes, the apple is the tree!"

*****

Author's disclaimer:

I hope you enjoyed this fun, over-the-top romp. It is, of course, complete fiction. I do not practice the 'life-style' at the heart of this story, nor do I advise you to do so as it is illegal. Please vote early and often! My 'Thanks' go out to the Literotica webmasters for their suggested corrections. Love the one you're with!

- Pumpkineater