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(mF, MF, Mf, inc, pedo, preg. cons, rom)

DISCLAIMER - THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION.  IT IS INTENDED SOLELY
TO ENTERTAIN THE READER.  NO ACTUAL LAWS, TABOOS, OR HYMENS WERE
BROKEN.  IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY STORIES OF SEX, ESPECIALLY
INCEST SEX, YOU SHOULD LEAVE NOW.  IF YOU ARE A MINOR, ZIP UP
YOUR TROUSERS, PULL UP YOUR PANTIES, AND GO AWAY.

Loves of my Life; a fantasy memoire

by  One-Sick-Puppy

	I write this from the coastal range of California.  I'll need a
name , but obviously  I can't use my real one.  For the purposes
of this tale you can call me Bob Taylor.

	So much for who and where I am.  How I got here is the rest of
the story.  You may feel I take too long to get to the "action",
but this is my story.  I've got to tell it my way.

Part One - Me & Mom

	I considered stealing David Copperfield's line, "Chapter One I
am Born", but frankly I don't care much for Dickens, and besides
I have no recollection of the event.  It was the one time I was
in my mother's cunt that I don't remember.

	Dad was one of those men who are described as rugged, rather
than handsome.  A hard worker with a well muscled body, brown
from a lifetime of labor under the sun.  Rather tall and thin. 
He had very strict views on almost all matters.  A stern man,
but not unloving.

	Mom on the other hand was petite, and soft.  Her brown hair and
eyes were kind of a family badge.  All us kids had the same eyes
and hair.  She also had a great sense of fun and did not share
many of my father's rigid views.

	They both clearly loved sex.  Mom had three kids in the first
three years of their marriage and might well have continued that
schedule if Dad hadn't gone away

	My earliest memory is of Mom, and it does involve some innocent
family sex play.

	I was a toddler of about two years age, able to get around
pretty good and always sticking my nose where it didn't belong. 
One day my folks were still in their bedroom, even though it was
already daylight.  I wanted to be with them so I pushed their
door open (no locks in our home) and went in.  My mother was
lying on the bed with the top of her nightgown pushed down.  On
her chest were these really neat looking bumps.

	My father taught me a new word that day; tittie.  (I never
heard the word breast applied to anything but fried chicken
until I was ten years old.)  My mother's tits were wonders of
the world.  Very large and very real.  This was before silicon. 
Firm too, despite their size they held their shape even with her
lying down.  And the nipples, cherry red with aureole larger
than a silver dollar.  I was going to be a confirmed tit man
from then on.

	Daddy was sucking my moms tit and he let me climb up on the
bed.  I squeezed and slapped Mommy's titty while he sucked.  We
got a rhythm going; he would bend over and suck for a few
seconds and then pull back.  When he was clear of the nipple I
would slap it and my mother would moan.  Once I punched instead
and they both laughed, despite the pain I accidentally gave my
mother.

	There was just one thing wrong, Daddy wouldn't let me suck
Mommy's tittie.  I was willing to use the one he wasn't, but
when I bent down to try a taste myself, it was over.  Daddy put
me back on the floor and they continued their fun without me.

	So now I was a frustrated tit man.  I was going to spend a lot
of the next couple of decades trying to be more intimate with my
mother's breasts.  Like all of life's endeavors there would be
triumphs and failures.

	In deed my next success came about a year later.  In those days
my father had an unfortunate tendency to mix alcohol and a
violent temper.  His anger was directed not at us, but at the
world in general and the local police in particular.  This was a
trait he shared with his four older brothers.  Family history
holds that they would visit the local taverns to drink and then
start fights.  If they couldn't get any of the patrons to fight
them, they'd fight each other.  When the bartenders called  the 
police they always had to specify the number Taylors involved so
the cops could decide how many squad cars to send.  The basic
rule was two cars per Taylor.

	Eventually my father became a guest of the state and my mother
was left alone with us kids for a couple of years.

	We soon found out that my mother hated sleeping alone, so my
sisters and I would take turns sleeping with my mother.  No,
there was nothing sexual about it.  My mother wasn't a pervert. 
She just liked the comfort of another warm body, man or woman,
boy or girl.  Just reassurance in the night that she wasn't
alone.

	I didn't mind at least.  A little boy, just like a puppy, wants
his mother to hold him and rock him to sleep, sing lullabies,
and keep him warm.  Besides, my mother always wore very sheer
nightgowns and I could see her breasts fairly clearly.  Still,
at this age I'm not talking about sex, but only childlike love.

	But, it soon became a case of my sisters taking turns sleeping
with Mommy.  I was banished after a few weeks.  Mother said she
was tired of constantly waking up to find me sucking on her
nipples.  Usually still covered by the nightgown, but
occasionally I managed to pull it down enough to get at the bare
flesh of her tits.

	So it was back to the bed I shared with whichever of my sisters
wasn't sleeping with mom.  This was no big deal to me.  They
were even younger than me and had no tits.  So as far as I was
concerned, they were just a couple of guys.  The only difference
between us seemed to be that they always sat down in the
bathroom and they didn't have to get haircuts.

	There were times when neither my sisters or I shared her bed. 
Mom brought several men home for a night or a week.  After all,
she was young and healthy, and she always figured if Dad didn't
know and so didn't get hurt, well it was just something she did
for fun.  Like eating ice cream or riding a Ferris wheel.  Those
guys were just self-propelled dildos, to be discarded once Mom's
itch had been sufficiently soothed.

	When I was five my dad got out and our lives really changed. 
Dad got religion, got sober, got a good job and we began moving
to progressively larger homes.  I still shared a room with my
sisters until I was ten, but we had different beds now;
something I would soon come to regret.

	I had gone through the usual pre-teen-boy phase of hating all
girls, but now I was beginning to develop the overpowering sex
urges that come with adolescence, worsened by the fact that I
had inherited my parents' powerful libido.

	And I had never gotten over my love of tits.  My father was the
same way.  He used to get the popular "men's" magazines of the
fifties and hide them under the mattress of my parents bed.  It
was a good hiding place, it took me all of five minutes to find
them.  Anytime my parents were away I would go to their bedroom
to look at the women in Dad's magazines.

	Those of you raised on Playboy, Penthouse, or Hustler can't
appreciate how frustrating those magazines were.  This was still
the age of Eisenhower and Joe MacCarthy.  The pictures were
always black and white (that was okay, so was our TV - first one
on the block) and the women always had their hands and arms or a
fence railing or something over their nipples.  I remembered
from my younger days that a woman's tits came to a lovely pointy
red tip that I knew was designed to fit in a man's mouth.  If a
little kid like me knew all this, who did these women think they
were fooling?  The frustrations of a tit man continued.

	And there was also the matter of the women's' legs.  Always
crossed.  Were they hiding something?

	When I was nine an older cousin let me in on the big secret. 
The comedian Dan Rowan once said it was time to "Get sex
education out of the classroom and back in the pool halls." 
That was sort of what happened with me.  We were coming back
from rabbit hunting when Cousin Joey started talking about
strippers and why men liked to look at them.  He gave me two new
words; pussy and fuck.  He told me that girls didn't have
wienies between their legs, but a slit he called a pussy.  He
told me that boys would put their wienies in the pussies and
this was called a fuck..  He said that when girls and boys got
to be about thirteen years old, they could start making babies
by fucking.

	Well, I was soon sharing this information with the neighbor
kids, becoming at the age of nine a sex guru.  There were two
girls next door who wanted to do it with me (sisters aged 9 and
11), and my best friend's sister from the across the street. 
She was my favorite; twelve years old and she was growing tits.

	The only girls in the neighborhood I couldn't get into our
games were my younger sisters.  Which was very unfair; the girls
I was playing all had brothers and they were playing with their
sisters pussies and baby tits.  Why was I out of luck?

	I say we were playing, because Cousin Joey hadn't been too
specific about what you did with a girl once you got her panties
off.  

	We started with a variation on tag.  The boys would chase a
girl until we caught her and then pull off her panties.  We
spread the girls legs and pulled open their hairless pussies and
looked for the hole my wienie would go into.  We saw a sort of
hole, but it was way too small.  Joey hadn't mentioned hymens or
the fact that pussies would stretch.  So we contented ourselves
with rubbing our wienies on their pussies.  The girls seemed to
enjoy that, and I felt an emotional satisfaction in doing (I
thought) what the big people did.

	And I liked the smell and taste of the girls crotches.  Joey
hadn't' mentioned licking a pussy, so I guess it was some sort
of instinctive act on my part.  The girls got kind of freaked
when I licked them between the legs, but they never yelled stop.

	This lasted about six months before we moved out of state and
my sex life kind of dried up.  We never seemed to settle long
enough for me to gain enough of a girl's confidence to discuss
why she should drop her pants for me.  Worse yet, Dad had
stopped buying girlie magazines.

	Well, time passed.  I began having wet dreams at the usual age
and then I discovered jacking off.  I also learned more words. 
Cock and cunt and asshole entered my vocabulary.  I fought with
my sisters and younger brothers like all older brothers do.  I
learned in these fights that while Dad would tend to side with
the younger kids, I could count on Mom to be for me.

	We had finally settled down again.  We were in California and
times were good.  Mom and Dad bought a small house.  We kids
were finally split by gender; I shared a room with my two
younger brothers while the two girl had a slightly smaller room
to themselves.  Mom and Dad had the big bedroom with the big bed.

	I suppose I should stop now and make it clear that after
seventeen years of marriage, my parents were still passionately
in love with each other.  The intensity of that love sometimes
scares me, even now.  But it also inspires me.  Happily ever
after is possible, if you find the right woman.  My dad had been
lucky that way and I was glad for them both.

	Mind you, I was still enthralled by my mother's tits, in the
literal meaning of the work enthralled.  I was a slave to them.  

	My mother loved my father as much as he did her, but she still
liked to flirt a bit, and at fourteen I had become her chief
victim.  Mother had taken to wearing her nightgown around the
house from about sundown on.  She still preferred sheer garments
that enhanced rather than hid, with loose tops.  When she would
sit-down to read or watch TV, the top part of gown would fall
away from her chest, then catch on her constantly stiff nipples.
When I walked by, which I did as often as possible, I could look
down at the tops of her breasts and the nipples the fabric clung
to.  I so wanted to reach down and touch them, but that was my
father's privilege only.

	When I turned fifteen it only got worse.  I discovered that the
nightgown Mom wore around the house in the evenings, was
considerably more than she actually wore to bed.  Many times I
would pass her late at night on my way to the bathroom (to jack
off, of course) or to get a drink of water.  She would be on
similar trips, but whereas I wore my pajamas, she wore a
too-small half-slip (sheer of course) pulled up to her armpits. 
It stretched from the top of her cleavage, to about an inch
below her pussy mound, and it molded itself to her like a second
skin.  I could make out every bump and wrinkle in her nipples,
and the dark curly forest of hair between her legs.

	I began to wonder if she was interested in me in "that way".  I
had now added incest to my growing list of sex terms and while I
knew it was against the rules, I didn't give a damn.  In my
clumsy teenaged way, I started to try and draw her out.  But she
only seemed to be amused by my efforts.

	When I was sixteen, the economy turned sour and my father lost
his job.  As things got tighter he began to look for work
farther and farther away.  Finally, he found a construction
project on the east coast that would guarantee him at least a
year's employment.  He took the job, even though it meant he
would have to be away from the family for a long time.  Before
he left he shook my hand, told me I was now the man of the
house, and that I should take care of my mother and the kids.

	He didn't mean anything by that.  He'd told me the same thing
every time he had to leave home for while since I'd been seven. 
Just his way of saying he loved me and wanted me to feel good
about myself.  I didn't give what he said a second thought.  I
did wonder why Mom looked so strangely at me as Dad gave me his
traditional goodbye.

	Daddy had been gone for almost a week and Mom was getting more
tense and flirty.  There were even more of the "accidental"
encounters at night with Mom in her half-slip, only now it
didn't go up to her armpits.  The elastic band ran just above
her nipples, exposing a huge expanse of tit to me.  It seemed to
happen every time I got up in the middle of the night; like Mom
was waiting for me.  I was jacking off like never before,
wondering why Mom was trying to drive me crazy.  Then, the first
Sunday night since Dad had left we were all sitting around the
living room, very bored, and Mom was extremely fidgety.

	She said she wanted to teach me to play two-handed solitaire. 
She was wearing her old sheer beige nightgown, and as she bent
to play the cards I could look down the top to her stiff , red
nipples.  Every time our fingers touched her body jerked like
she had gotten an electric shock and her titties jiggled most
seductively.

	There was a tension in the room that we could all feel.  Mom
was sweating, even though the room was cool and she was nearly
naked.  My own temperature was rapidly rising.  My cock was
stiffer than it had ever been before, and it was painfully
trying to push it's way through my shorts and jeans as I thought
of another game I played alone that Mom could join.  I could
smell something different and alluring about Mom's body; an odor
that made me horny and eager to touch her.

	I thought she wanted me to, but the other kids were in the
room.  My sister, Rose, was paying particular attention to the
solitaire game.  How could I push my hand into Mom's nightie
under those watchful eyes?

	And also, I was afraid.  I was only sixteen, and while Mom was
only thirty-two, she was still older and my mother.  What if I
was misreading her?  What if my own desires were making me sense
something she didn't mean.

	Horribly confused and frustrated I told my mother that I didn't
feel well and wanted to got to bed.  "That's okay, hon.  We'll
see how you feel in the morning.  Sleep tight," she said and
gave me a quick kiss goodnight.  Only this time she somehow
missed my cheek and hit my lips.  And I could swear I felt her
tongue on my lips.  What the hell was that all about?

	As you can guess I had to jack off a couple of times before I
had a hope of getting to sleep, but finally I did drop off.  I
woke up around three a.m. with a serious need to piss.  I was a
little reluctant to get up since I was almost sure that Mom was
waiting to ambush me again.  But this time she wasn't in the
hallway and I made it to the bathroom unscathed.

	On my way back to the room I shared with my brothers I had to
pass my parents' bedroom, where Mom now slept alone in the big
bed.  The door was open, like it usually was at that hour and I
stopped to look in because I now heard a strange bumping sound
and rhythmic grunting.  Was Mom okay?  She had been acting kind
of strangely, maybe she was ill and I would have to call the
doctor.

	There were no lights, but I could see Mom standing at her
dresser.  She was facing the mirror, with her left hand on the
dresser, clearly steadying herself.  Her right hand was out of
my sight below the level of the dresser top and it was moving
back and forth at Mom's groin, like she was shoving something
into herself.  The bumps were coming from the dresser as it
shook with Mom's movements.  The low grunts were coming from
Mom, also in time with the movements of her right hand.

	I looked at the mirror so I could watch Mom's tits bounce in
response to the pounding she was giving her pussy.  It was a
lovely sight, but I barely had time to take it in before I
noticed the reflection of Mom's face.  Her eyes were open, but
she wasn't looking down at her groin, nor was she watching her
bouncing tits.  Her gaze was locked on my reflection.  She was
watching me and in the dim moonlight that came through her
bedroom window, I thought I saw a plea in her eyes.

	More frightened and confused than ever I fled back to my
bedroom and eventually fell into a troubled sleep.

	Next morning I woke to find Mom leaning over me (in a very
proper bathrobe this time) with her hand on my forehead.  "You
have a temperature.  I guess you had better stay home today."

	Well I felt fine, but what sixteen-year-old is going to insist
on going to school.  If Mom was willing to let me skip, who was
I to argue.  She fed my brothers and sisters and shooed them off
to school, a totally normal morning.

	About ten minutes after the last of my siblings had left for
school, Mom came into the bedroom.  "You're fine.  Get up and
hit the shower.  I want to talk to you."  Her tone was
commanding, but not unfriendly.

	I slipped into the shower, got the water just the temperature I
like, and figured now was a good time to put my morning hard-on
to good use.  Just as I got a good stroke going, the bathroom
door swung open and Mother was there!

	"I said to take a shower, not to pull your pud.  Do I have to
stand here to make sure you do like I say?", she barked.

	"Nh, Nu, No! Mom, please, close the door," I begged her.

	Sure as hell she didn't need to stay there to keep me from
jacking off.  As wilted as my cock had gotten from the shock, I
doubted I would ever be bothered by a boner again.

	I finished my shower and had started to towel off when the door
opened again.  "Here, hon, let me help," mother said wrapping me
in a large, soft beach towel.  Just out of the dryer it was warm
and smelled wonderful.

	"I hated to ruin your fun, honey," she said, "but we have to
talk about last night, and I think it will go better for both of
us, if you don't jackoff first."

	When I was dry, Mom took me by the hand and led me to her
bedroom.  She was still wearing her bathrobe as we sat down on
the bed.

	"Now, first, about what happened in the shower.  Just how often
do you play with yourself, anyway  I've never heard of a boy who
has to jackoff as often as you do."

	"Aw, Mom!  I don't do it that much!"

	She giggled and said, "Don't try to bullshit your old mama. 
Who do you think does the laundry around here.  Your briefs are
stiff with dried cum, you bedsheets are stained, not to mention
that every pair of panties you sisters and I put in the laundry
hamper winds up being used as a cum rag.  Now your brothers are
only seven and eight years old, so it isn't them.  How often."

	I looked at the floor.  "Usually five a day; maybe seven every
once in a while."

	I barely hear her whisper to herself.  "Good."

	She pulled my head so I looked her in the face.  "I saw you
watching me last night.  Do you now what I was doing?"

	"No, Mama.  I thought at first that you were having a seizure
or something.  But you seemed to be all right.  I'm sorry I
pried."

	"You weren't really prying, Son.  I wanted you to see me.  I
needed you to see, so we could have this talk.  I really hoped
you would come into the room last night.  But, now I think this
is better.  We don't have to be so quiet.  And we can see better
what we're doing and who we're doing it with.

	"What I was doing was masturbating.  What you call jacking off."

	"Mothers do that?"

	"Sure, honey." she said, "when they can't have regular sex as
much as they want.  Now, get up her in the middle of the bed."

	She positioned me more or less in the center of the king size
bed and then she went to the window and adjusted the blinds so
that the morning light streamed into the bedroom.

	Next she went to the closet and took out one of my father's
dark ties.  Walking around behind me she suddenly slipped it
over my eyes and tied it as a blind fold.  "Don't worry, honey,
I'll remove this in a minute.  I just want you to get the full
effect at once."

	What was she talking about.  I could hear her move around and
there was a slithering sound, kind of like a snake, then the bed
moved as Mom got up on the mattress with me.

	"Okay, I'm going to take off the blindfold, but you have to
keep your eyes closed," she said.  "Now, promise me you will."

	"Okay, Mom, I promise."

	She pulled the knotted tie down over my face until it hung
around my neck, while I kept my eyes closed.  I could smell her
again; that arousing musky scent from last night.  I felt myself
start to harden and wondered how she would react when she saw
what was happening.

	"Okay, Son, open your eyes."

	God she was gorgeous.  The slithering sound had been the robe
sliding off her body.  The body she now presented to me like God
had intended, nude and glorious.

	I looked first at her breasts.  I hadn't seen them completely
uncovered since I was a toddler all those years ago.  The
nipples were just a red as I remembered and wonderfully stiff.

	Then I quickly looked at her pussy.  I knew I had to look fast.
Mom was taking her teasing to a new level and soon I would be
banished to my room to jackoff over the memory.  Her black bushy
pubic hair seemed damper than the rest of her body, and the
musky odor seemed to be coming from it.  But where was the slit
I had seen on my grade school girlfriends?

	Mom suddenly slid her pelvis forward and leaned her body back
and the slit of her pussy came into view.  Mom spread the lips a
little with her hand and I could see the a big bump near the top
of the slit.  Was that the "clitoris" I had read of in the
marriage manuals I swiped from one of Mom's lady friends?  And
there below it, was a definite hole.  This looked like it could
hold my cock.

	I started to tremble as my cock sprang to complete hardness and
started leaking pre-cum without my even touching it.  Meantime,
Mom reached under one of the pillows and pulled out a long white
plastic vibrator that she had told me was for relaxing her tired
muscles.  She started to rub it vigorously over her pussy mound.

	"This is what I was doing last night." she said.  "I wanted a
real cock, but all I had was this cold plastic thing, so I was
rubbing it on my cunt and hoping some man would come to my
rescue.  But my prince-charming lost his nerve and I won't beat
around the bush anymore.  I need you, damn it."

	Somehow I missed the import of what she was saying.  She kept
rubbing the vibrator over pussy.  "Did you stick it inside
yourself?" I asked.

	"No, I didn't want to stretch myself.  I want us both to enjoy
this very much."

	I didn't miss it this time.  "Mom, are we going to . . . uh . .
. do it?"

	"No, honey, we're not going to do "IT".  We're gonna fuck.  And
I gonna suck your cock, and you're gonna eat my pussy.  You're
gonna suck my tits and fuck my tits.  I'm gonna fuck you 'til
you are so limp you couldn't get it up for a room full of virgin
nymphos."

	She pushed me over on my back and kissed me softly, but
insistently.  "Don't hate me, honey," she said, and for the
first time I saw tears in her eyes.  "I'm not an old woman, I
have the same sort of strong sex drive you do, and there is
nobody else to satisfy me.  I can't go out in the streets and
look for a man.  You're father would hear of it, and I don't
want to hurt him.  You're father said you were supposed to take
care of me while he was gone.  I know he didn't mean this, but I
do need you this way."

	"Oh, Mom, I could never hate you.  I want to do all the things
you said, but I don't know how.  I've never really done it with
a woman."

	"I guessed as much.  You don't even know how to kiss."

	"Show me."

	She leaned over me again and brought her lips to mine.  I felt
her tongue glide over my lips and then try to force its way in. 
"Part your lips just a little, honey," Mom said.  When I did her
tongue slid in and started batting mine.  I pushed back in
self-defense and she suddenly pulled her tongue out of my mouth
and mine was sucked into hers.  It was wild to feel someone
else's teeth and cheeks with my tongue.  Her tongue suddenly
batted me again and we began to slid them around each other.

	Meantime, Mom took my hands and placed them on her tits.   I
began to squeeze and tug on the nipples and my cock got even
harder.

	Mom pulled her face back from mine.  "You want to suck them,
don't you.  Do you remember when you were a very little boy and
would sleep in my bed?"

	"Yeah, Mom.  You made me get out because I was always sucking
your tits."

	"I made you leave because I was enjoying it so much.  When you
were just a baby your dad didn't want me to nurse you; he said
it would ruin my breasts' shape.  And he also wanted more babies
as quick as I could make them.  But I used to slip you a little
tittie anyway.  You were also such a good sucker it almost made
me come."

	With that Mom put her hand on my hard, pulsing cock.  She
spread the fast flowing pre-cum over the head and down the
shaft.  It felt so good I almost blew right then.  "Speaking of
sucking, I can't have this on a hair trigger," she said.

	Suddenly she popped my cock into her mouth and her tongue went
to work.  As her head bobbed up and down quickly, her tongue
would circle my cock.  Then her teeth nipped me just lightly and
I was a goner.

	I've read in other stories where the man or boy tries to warn
his lover that he's going to come in her mouth.  No way!  Not
this time anyway.  I was on sensory overload.  I was coming
before I realized it.  I couldn't have told her anything, and at
that moment I didn't want to.  I just lay there and had the
greatest come of my life.

	Mom looked at me with bulging cheeks and then she swallowed. 
"God, do I love that taste.  But next time I suck I hope you'll
last longer and let me play with it a bit.

	"Now, it's time for Momma good boy to get a reward.  Come up
here and suck Mommy's titties."

	You can bet your ass I got up to her chest just as fast as I
could.  Mom was sitting up with her tits hanging down.  I put my
hands on the underside and lifted them up so I could get my
mouth on her tits.  Now I understood what sexy books meant when
they spoke of a woman's heavy breasts.  There was a marvelous
heft to Mom's tits.  The weight and the study, chewy looking
nipples seemed to proclaim that these were a woman's TITS, not
some little girls puffies, or snooty debutante's breasts.  They
were real tits, carried on the chest of a real woman, and as I
sucked I began to feel like a real man.

	Mom was moaning and rubbing her hands on my head.  I remembered
how she had used her tongue on my cock, so I licked the nipple
of her right breast while I held it in my mouth.  I worked her
right breast for about five minutes and then Mom said, "What
wrong with my other tit?"

	"Nothing, Mom.  I just don't think I will ever get my fill of
this one.  But if you want, I'll switch for a while."

	So now I gave the same treatment to her left breast.  "Oh,
baby, you do that so good; much better than your father.  I wish
I had nursed you more when you were a baby.  I wish I had let
you keep sucking while you dad was in jail.  Oh, do Mommy's
tits, baby, do Mommy's tits!"

	I recalled how she had nipped my cockhead when she sucked me
off, and decided to return the favor.  I bit down lightly on her
nipple and pulled her tit up and out.  Mom sucked in a quick
breath and said, "More, oh, more.  Give Mommy a little bit of
pain."

	After a few more minutes of tit sucking Mom pulled my face off
her tit and said, "I'm glad you're so oral, because now I need
you to put your mouth to work on my pussy."

	She pushed me back and down until my face was in her crotch. 
The smell of my mother's pussy was stronger and more arousing
than ever.  "I want you to lick everything down there that's
pink," she said.  "Just go to town at first and get a good taste
of Mommy's cunt.  Stick your tongue in the hole there and lick
up its juice.  You know, that is the hole your father shot cum
into to make you, and it's the hole you came out of.  Of all the
pussy holes in the world, it is naughtiest for you to lick that
one.  So lick me good and really break the rules.

	So I started licking all over her pussy.  I listened for Mom's
reaction and when I did something that made her take one of
those short, sharp breaths - you know, like when you jump into
an icy stream or see a particularly beautiful woman - then I
would repeat that.  I quickly found that she reacted most
strongly to licks on the nubbin I noticed earlier.  I kept doing
that and Mom said, "Oh, yeah son.  Lick Mommy's clit.  Make
Mommy's little clitty feel so good.  Oh, GOD!  I think I'm going
to cum!"

	Well, I kept licking her pussy, including sticking my tongue as
deep as I could into her hole.  It was a weird, slimy, salty,
wet, bland, spicy, kind of taste.  What I loved was knowing that
this was the hole my father fucked, the hole I and my sisters
and brothers came out off.  And knowing that the next thing in
that hole would be my cock.

	Then Mom started breathing real hard and fast, and her pussy
was clutching at my tongue like it wanted to pull it out and
suck way up inside her.  And the juice pouring out of the hole
was making my face, her crotch and bed very sloppy.  "Oh, my
baby!  Oh, my lovely son!" Mom was yelling.  "You did it, honey.
Baby had made Mommy come.  Oh, good baby, good baby, good baby."

	I pulled my face up out of her pussy, and looked at my mother's
spasming body.  Finally, she calmed down and smiled at me. 
"Thank, you sweetie.  That was very nice. 

	"Now climb up her on top of Mommy.  It is time that my baby
fucked my cunt."

	I slid up her body until we were face to face and my cock was
touching her pussy hair.  "Gee, after all we've done can't we
use our own names.  You call me Bob and I'll call you Joan, like
lovers should."

	"NO!"  Mom surprised me with her vehemence.

	Then her tone softened and she said, "Baby, do you know what
incest is?"

	"Yes, Mom," I said.  "It's when people in a family fuck each
other.  Like we're gonna do, right?"

	"Yes, son, that is right.  And do you know that incest is very,
very, naughty?  Forbidden in fact.  It's a crime, a sin, maybe
even unnatural.  Did you know that?"

	I laughed, "Well, sure.  I think that just makes it even more
fun."

	Mom smiled back at me.  "I think so to, and I don't want to
lose any part of that delicious naughtiness.  I want to keep the
fact that this is incest very clear to both us.  When we're
fucking and playing together, I will call you my son and my
baby.  I want you to call me Mommy.  Not mother or even mom, but
Mommy.  Little boys call their mothers Mommy and I want to
remember that I am being fucked by my beautiful little boy."

	I looked into her beautiful brown eyes and said, "I love you,
Mommy."

	She said, "And I love you, my son.  I was glad to hear that you
hadn't done this with a girl or woman before.  I want to be the
one who shows my baby how to fuck."

	She reached down and took my cock in her hand.  "Oh, so hard
and all for Mommy.  Thank you, son."

	She guided the cock head to the entrance of her cunt and then
put her hands on my butt and pulled me in.  "Welcome back, son."

	Mom told me to start bucking my hips up and down, not so hard
as to hurt her, but quickly enough for her to feel it.  My cock
was being sucked and pulled on by her well-trained pussy
muscles, and I had never even  imagined a feeling like it.

	The wasn't one of the "so tight it could cut your cock off"
pussies we read so much about.  My mother had had five kids and
her husband was fucking her with great regularity.  It was snug,
like a comfortable glove.

	Only it was very hot and wet.  And it wasn't a glove it was my
mother's pussy.  And it was the first pussy I had property
fucked.  Mom had taken some of the edge off when she sucked my
cock earlier, still the realization that I was fucking, and not
just some available cunt, but my mom's cunt was driving me close
to coming on each stroke.

	I let what she had said earlier, about the naughtiness of
incest guide my next move.  I started talking to her as we
fucked.

	"Do you like it, Mommy?  Is Baby fucking Mommy's cunt right? 
Should I keep going, Mommy?  Oh, is this naughty, Mommy?  Are
Baby and Mommy being naughty together?"

	I put my head down and grabbed a titty with my mouth, biting,
then licking the nipple.

	Mom started running her fingers through my hair.  "Oh, yesssss,
Baby is fucking Mommy right.  Baby and Mommy are being so
naughty.  Keep fucking your mommy, my sweet little boy."

	I pulled my face up again.  Mom had her eyes closed, so I
decided to get her attention again.  "Does Baby have a good
cock, Mommy?  Do you like Baby's cock?"

	Mom was muttering kind of incoherently now.  "Oh, Oh, yes. 
Good cock, nice cock.  Baby has a good cock.  Come on Baby, give
Mommy that nice babymaker in her baby place."

	I thought of how Mom had reacted to my biting her nipples.  I
tried another experiment.  I slipped my hand down to Mom's
crotch, and just as I was pulling my cock back I grabbed her
clit and squeezed.

	"AAUUGHHH!!" she screamed.  "Coming! Oh, coming so good!"

	If  I thought her pussy had clutched at my cock and poured out
juice when I licked her pussy, I was in for a surprise.  The
spasms that went through her cunt walls squeezed my cock at
least as hard as I had her clit and I swear the juice splashed
up to my chin.

	The grabbing of her pussy walls on my cock, and the way her cry
of completion grabbed my mind, pushed me into another great
come.  This was even better than the come when she sucked me
off.  That had been me alone.  Now I was sharing a climax with
my mother.

	It was too much.  As I experienced what I would later call the
second best orgasm of my life, I slid off to one side of
Mother's body and slid into a mental fog.  Not a total black
out, but everything seemed kind of distant and fuzzy.

	Through the fog I saw that Mom had stopped shaking, and was
running her hand down to her pussy.  I heard to talking to
herself.

	"Oh, he's good."  That made me feel great.  "Wow, did he drop a
load.  If the kid is going to come that much I better start
thinking about getting some rubbers."

	That shook me.  Other things she had said while we fucked came
back to me.  She had called my cock a "babymaker" and her pussy
her "baby place".  SHIT!  I suddenly was back with Cousin Joey
while he told me how fucking made babies.  I had fucked my
mother and shot sperm in her.  I was in a panic.  I couldn't be
a father.  Not to my own brother or sister.  How would we
explain that to Dad.  He was supposed to fuck babies into my
mother, not me.

	"Oh, God, Mom.  What are we going to do?  How long until the
baby shows?  What are we going to do?"  I really was a little
boy now, wanting my mommy to make everything all better.

	And she did.  "Oh, honey, don't worry.  It is at least a week
until my baby making time.  And even if I were fertile now, you
don't make a baby every time you fuck.  You don't think I only
fucked you Dad five times, do you?"

	Well, yes actually I had kind of thought that.  She was my
mother and like all boys I sort of assumed she was way above
anything as dirty as sex.

	Mother was continuing to reassure me.  "Listen to me.  It's
true that I'm as horny as a nympho whose been slipped Spanish
Fly, but I won't do anything to hurt you.  I want you to fuck me
and I want you to love fucking me.  Don't worry your head about
babies; that's my problem."

	She gave me a long, slow, deep, loving kiss.  "Now, I want you
to try something a little different.  You've tasted pure pussy. 
How about a taste of fresh fucked cunt?  Lick me again, Baby."

	And that's the way it went all that day.  I fucked my mother
three time, twice missionary and once doggy,  I ate her pussy
before and after every fuck.  After the last fuck Mom figured I
had been worn down enough to let her really enjoy a good, long
cocksuck.  And I sure loved it.  Sixty-nine became my favorite
number that day.

	When she wrapped her soft tits around my cock, I was in heaven.
To have my cock held by the beautiful breasts that had haunted
me since I was two-years-old was the most amazing experience.  I
could have died happy that day.

        We finished off by showering together.  No sex, though.  We were
both worn out, and besides the other kids would be home soon.

	The other kids were going to be a problem.  I knew I would be
fucking Mom until my father returned, and with my sisters and
brothers around there was a horrible risk of discovery.

	Still, we managed at least two fucks a day.  One in the
afternoon before the others were home from school, and one late
at night while they slept.  I always went to the store with Mom,
to help her carry the bags.  And to fuck in the back-seat when
we parked in a secluded grove of firs on the edge of town.

	The best time of all came when Dad had been gone for a little
over two months.  It was Spring Break and Mom had arranged for
us all to visit various relative, or go camping.  Of course, my
plans fell through at the last minute and I was "forced" to stay
at home with Mom.

	For a week I felt like a married man.  I slept with my mother
in the big bed, fucking and sucking whenever we felt like it. 
To please me, Mom went totally nude for almost the whole week. 
Even if I was all fucked out, and Mom's tits were too sore from
my sucking and chewing to stand more, I still took great
pleasure in just looking at her naked body.  Especially when her
tits glistened with my spit and my cum was leaking out of her
wonderful pussy.  Seeing my sperm drip from my own mother's cunt
was tremendously satisfying.

	There was one gnawing worry though.  Like a broken tooth it
jabbed me at the most unexpected times.  Was this safe, what we
were doing?

	It had started when I was having a little talk with Mom about
two weeks after that first wonderful day of fucking.

	"This has been the greatest time of my life, Mom," I told her. 
"I want it to go on as long possible."

	"Oh, me too, Baby.  I wish we could do it even more.  If there
was just some way that we could go ahead and fuck without
worrying about who might see us."

	I kissed her long and deep, like she had taught me to.  "That
would fanfuckingtastic, Mom!  But you know we have keep it
secret and not take any chances.

	"Speaking of which, when do we have to start using rubbers?"

	Mom, just smiled, and then lowered a boom.  "Oh, that.  Well, I
completely forgot about them, and anyway my fertile period was
the last three days.  So I guess we won't need the rubbers for
anywhere from three weeks to nine months."

	And then she laughed.  "But, don't worry.  So many things have
to go right for a woman to get pregnant some people say it's a
mathematical impossibility.  I don't think it's very likely
you're a father."

	Let me tell you I really sweated out the next ten days.  The
only time I could get the worry out of my mind was when I got my
cock into Mom's mouth or pussy.  I was sure she was feeling the
same tension.

	On the eleventh day Mom said, "Well, you get a little rest now,
Son.  My period hit this morning.  Right on schedule."

	Was there a touch of wistfulness in her voice?

	This game was played out through the second month as well. 
First it was "don't worry I'm not fertile yet", followed by "oh,
I forgot and it's too late to worry about it now".  The second
time she told me her period had arrived and I wasn't a father,
she was definitely annoyed.

	It was a week after our spring break "honeymoon" that we got
the phone call.  Dad was coming home!  His old boss wanted him
back and he would arrive at the end of the week.

	Mom and I crammed a lot of fucking into that last week.  I even
got very bold and for once took the initiative in our love
making.

	"Mom, we've done a hell of lot in the last three months, I
think there's only one thing left to do."

	"What are you talking about, Son.  Making a baby?" she asked,
eagerly.

	"No, Mom you don't want that.  It would cause way too much
talk.  Dad left three months ago; if you had a baby more than
six months from now, but less than nine, a lot of really nasty
questions are going to get asked."

	I rubbed my hand over her ass cheeks and then between them to
finger her pucker.  "What I meant was, I've fucked your pussy,
and your mouth, and your tits, and now there is this last hole I
want to get into."

	"Whoa, boy," she said.  "Nobody has done that to me, not even
your father."

	"Good!" I said.  "You took my virginity, it's only right that I
get at least one of your cherries.  Besides, I've gotten to know
you pretty well, biblically and otherwise, over these months and
I'll bet you're asking yourself right now, how good would it
feel?"

	Well, I talked her into it, without much resistance on her
part, and she let me know that I was going to miss school again
tomorrow.

	When the other kids had gone to school I headed for Mom's
bedroom, this time, I was confident and hard.  My cock head got
to mom a good seven inches before the rest of me.

	Mom produced a tube of K-Y she had bought to lube up the
rubbers she never remembered to buy, then got into the "doggy"
position in front of me.  I rubbed the K-Y all over my cock,
then pushed more into her asshole.  Kneeling behind her, I put
my cock against her ass and started to push.

	Mom had tensed up and was using her anal muscles to push me
back out.  I knew from what I read that if she relaxed and
loosened her sphincter it would go a lot easier for both of us. 
But suddenly I didn't want her too.  I wanted to feel like I was
forcing this on her.  It wasn't quite rape, but she didn't seem
to want it as much as I did, and that excited me.

	"That's it, Mom, keep me out!  Fight me!  Make me smash it in. 
I'm going to fuck your ass whether or not you like it, and if
you don't like it I think that will make it even better for me! 
Take your first cock up the ass, you hot-cunted whore!"

	It was the first time I had ever spoken to my mother like that,
even while we were fucking, but she really seemed to get into it.

	"Oh, yes, Son.  Make Mommy take it in her ass.  Fuck Mommy so
hard in her ass that she can't sit.  Make me hurt, baby.  Tear
open Mommy's asshole!"

	With that I pushed my hardest and Mom's ass popped open, then
her sphincter muscles clamped down on me like they had decided
to keep my cock as a souvenir.  It was a great fuck and we both
had great cums.

	I fucked her ass twice more that day.  We did a little
experimenting and found out you can assfuck while facing your
partner, and as it was our third time that day, I got to watch
Mom wince every time my cock pushed in and pulled out past her
tired, sore ass muscles.

	The next two days were dedicated to normally cock-in-cunt
fucking, with a little oral sex to spice up the mix.  Then, on
the last night before Dad was to arrive home I went to my
mother's room for a last all out sex session.

	Mom was awake and waiting for me, but not happy.  "Well, you
and your father will have something else in common now."

	My heart almost stopped when I considered what she might mean.

	"You're both getting a lot less sex this weekend than you
imagined.  My period was right on time."

	I was sure the bitterness in her voice was over the lost chance
to fuck me good-bye, and then fuck Dad hello the next day.  She
offered to suck me off, but I could see her heart was not in it
and I left alone.  That was the last time I would have a sexual
contact with my mother.

	You can believe it or not, but I was glad that Dad was coming
home.  I would miss fucking Mom, but I loved my father and had
great respect for him.  I had missed him these last three months.

	And to tell you the truth, I had to move on.  I knew I couldn't
build a life with her.  She was my mother and I had begun to
long for a wife and mate.  Someone to share my life and bear my
children.  I already knew who I wanted and it wasn't my mother.

	Sadly, she was just as inaccessible.

Part Two - My Thorny Rose

	While I have no memory of the event, I know for a fact that one
week after my first birthday my mother gave me an even greater
gift than three wonderful months of fucking.  That was when she
gave birth to my sister, Rose.

	Rose and I had a stormy relationship from the start.  Many
relatives have told me that I was very mean to her when she was
an infant.  No doubt, it was classic sibling rivalry.  But with
a twist.

	I mean, I remember that she and I fought about almost
everything.  Even though we had very similar tastes we would
never agree on anything.  Rose had a secret weapon though; all
she had to do was start crying and I was a goner.  I might have
wanted to kill her sometimes, but I couldn't stand the idea of
her being in pain.

	And then there was her smile.  I came out of our battles pretty
clean, but especially as we grew older and approached our teens,
the struggle took a toll on Rose.  She became a shy and
melancholy child.  Her face seemed frozen in a perpetual scowl.

	But if you could reach her and lift her spirits you would be
rewarded with a smile that seemed to combine the glow of a
perfect sunrise, a baby's laugh, and your first kiss.  See it
once, and you would kill yourself to make her smile again.

	Which, unfortunately, was what I thought I would have to do win
one of her smiles.

	And I wanted a lot more than a smile.

	I'm not sure when I fell in love with Rose, but it was early. 
I told you earlier that I had begun having wet dreams and
jacking off at the usual age.  What it didn't mention then was
that my wet dreams did not feature my mother, or Marilyn Monroe,
or even Annette from the Mickey Mouse Club.  It was Rose I
dreamed of.  I had vivid dreams of her naked, of her offering
her body to me, of us fucking.

	One day I was leaving a room just as she came in.  I was
thirteen, she was twelve.  We collided in the doorway and
naturally, neither was going to make way for the other.  As we
tried to push each other back, her hard, young breasts pressed
into me, our groins were bumping and my eyes locked onto hers. 
I began to get a hard-on that she had to feel as my cock began
to poke at her pussy through our clothes.  I guess that was the
deciding factor, because she suddenly retreated back into the
hallways.

	But as I felt her body move away, I was a loser.  I wanted that
wonderful feeling to continue.

	It was that night that I had my first waking orgasm.  I lay in
bed rubbing my cock reliving the sensation of her little titties
against my chest.  I remembered the sex play I had during grade
school, and wondered how much better if would have been if I
could have gotten Rosie to play.  Why we could have kept doing
it right up to that very day.  That's when I blew.

	Sometimes Mom and Dad would leave us at home when they went
shopping or had some church function.  I always took advantage
of these occasions to grope my sister.  We had a childish sex
game at school then.  Walk up to a pretty girl and complement
her on her blouse.  Then ask "Is it felt?"  When she says no,
start rubbing your hands all over her body and say "Now it is."

	Dumb and pathetic.  But, happily it took my sister a long time
to catch on.  I got several very good squeezes at her breasts
every time I pulled that stunt.

	I tried to let her know how I felt in many ways, but never, of
course, did I just tell her that I loved her and wanted us to be
together for life.

	Because that was how far I had gone.  I didn't want to fuck my
sister just to say that I had done it.  I saw us as lovers,
husband and wife, parents.  I had every step of our first time
together planned.  It was going to be at sunset, on the beach. 
I would have her strip, slowly.  First her shoes, then her
pants, then the blouse, then the bra, and finally her panties. 
It would not be just after sunset, with the western sky a blood
red.  She was to stand between me and the sea, against the glow
I would look at her.  She is showing her profile.  Her large,
shapely tits standing out from her chest (she definitely took
after Mom in the breast department), and lower down her buttocks
and pubic mound are outlined.  Then I reach up and pull her down
on to the blanket and take her.

	Too bad she showed no similar interest.

	In those days she was Daddy's darling.  I would never be
jealous of Dad and Mom, but I did torture myself with questions
about what he and Rose might have going on.

	All this happened before Mom and I had our season together, of
course.  And even with what I had learned from my mother, I was
far sure that I should make a move on Rose.  If she rejected me
I would be crushed.  And she might have gone to Dad and that
would have destroyed the family.  I could see it in my mind, Dad
homicidal in his rage, Mom trying to protect me letting slip
what we had done, holocaust.  Better that I wait and see what
would come up.

	Besides with my new knowledge and the confidence I had gained
there were other opportunities for sexual release.

	I was no Don Juan, you understand.  Neither the most popular
nor least popular boy in school, I had my share of dates.  Some
yielded no more than a good night peck on the cheek, while
others were more productive.  I never scored on the first date,
but usually I got my hand inside the girls blouse at least, very
often her pants as well.

	And Mom had trained me well.  If I could get a finger in the
girl, I always got her pants off.  And I discovered that if you
introduce some sweet young thing to the joys of having her pussy
licked, you were a cinch to wind up fucking her.

	After high school I moved on to the university.  My first time
away from home I lived in a dorm just above the campus.   I
missed my family, a bit, but college life suited me.  It would
take a revolution, I thought, to pull me away.

	Actually, all it took was a winding road and a drunken bastard.

	It was late fall and I was preparing for mid-terms when our
pastor called.  An auto accident, he said.  It was bad, but that
was all he knew.  Come home at once.

	It was a miracle that I didn't kill half the population of the
Bay Area as I tore down freeways and mountain roads at idiotic
speeds.  About halfway home I had to stop for gas and I called
my hometown police for details.  All they would say was that the
survivors had been taken to County General.

	That was bad.  People don't talk about survivors unless there
were fatalities.

	I found Rose at the hospital in near hysterics.  The preacher
was there as well and I got some of the story.  Most of my
family had been on their way home from church in the new van Dad
purchased only a month before.  As they were driving up the
canyon road that led to our home, a sedan had plowed into them.

	Neither Mom or Dad had been wearing seat belts and had died
instantly.  My younger sister, Ellie, had been wearing hers, but
the car struck them right where she was sitting and she never
had a chance.

	My brothers, Jack and Tony, had survived the initial impact but
were in critical condition and were not expected to make it.

	The asshole in the Buick that killed them had a blood alcohol
reading of 2.3 and didn't have so much as a bruise.  

	Rose hadn't been with them.  Pastor James said Mom had been
clearly upset all Sunday.  When questioned she would only say
that she and Rose had had a fight and she didn't know what was
going to happen next.

	By dawn my brothers had died and I took Rose back to a very
empty home.  She was a basket case.  Mostly it was like she
wasn't there.  She didn't eat, didn't talk, wouldn't see anyone.
I kept an eye on her because I was terrified of what she might
do.

	The funerals took place three days after the accident.  Rose
was there only in body.  The black dress she wore was bright and
cheerful compared to the blankness of her eyes and the lifeless
expression on her face.  We buried our family, then endured the
condolences and good wishes of the people we knew.  I could
barely face them, but Rose seemed unaffected.  Like I said, she
wasn't really there.

	I took her home again, and being exhausted tried to get some
sleep.  I woke about an hour later and went to piss.  As I was
going past my sisters' room, just Rose's room now, I noticed
that a towel seemed to have been jammed under the door.  Worried
I knocked a couple of times, and when I got no answer I tried to
push the door open.  It jammed a bit on the towel and so I threw
myself at it like my high school coach had taught me to hit
opposing running backs.

	The door gave way and I almost fell in.  Right away I smelt the
gas and heard the hiss from the old heater.  Thank God Rose had
always had the bed nearest the door.  I managed to grab her and
drag her first into the hallway and then the living room where I
laid her on the couch.  She was out, but breathing so I left her
for a few moments while I shut off the gas and opened all the
windows.

	Then I rushed back to Rose.  Her color was better, and she
seemed to be breathing normally.  I started rubbing her hands
and talking to her through my tears.

	"Rosie, wake up.  Oh, don't do this to me.  Please, Rosie,
don't leave me.  Wake up, please.  I love you, Rosie, please
wake up."

	She groaned, "Leave me alone.  I want to be dead.  I should be
dead.  You can't love me, I'm awful.  Let me die!!"

	"No way, little sister.  You aren't going to leave me alone. 
I've lost just as much as you, may be more.  And you are scaring
the hell out of me right now"

	She opened her eyes and started crying for the first time. 
"You don't understand.  I killed them.  It was my fault!"

	"What are you talking about.  You weren't even there."

	She shook her head and said, "But if it wasn't for me, they
wouldn't have been on the road then.  There wouldn't have been
an accident."

	I tried to humor her a little.  "Now how did you do all that
from here?"

	"Daddy called.  He said that Mother had told him about the
fight and they were coming home right away.  I could Mom in the
background trying to argue him out of it.  I think they must
have been arguing all the way up to the accident."

	"Okay," I said.  "You and Mom had a fight.  Dad wanted to patch
things up, and things went horribly wrong.  That doesn't make it
your fault.

	"What was this terrible fight all about anyway?"

	"You!" she said, and buried her head in the cushions.

	I didn't understand so I started to ask questions and
eventually she told me what had happened.  Basically she had
found Mom's diary.

	All my family had a love of history and finding out about the
past.  For a school project Rose had been working on the Taylor
family history.  While going through some old chests in the
attic she had come across my mother's diaries and had decided to
read them, starting with the fateful spring of 1966.  That was
the year Mom and I fucked you see, so it was probably the worst
place for Rose to start.  But it hadn't been an accident.

	"I remembered how things had been when Dad took the job back
east," she said.  "The terrible tension between you and Mom for
that first week, then how it had suddenly cleared up.  How she
had seemed so happy and you had just grown so sure of yourself
overnight almost."

	She giggled, then.  The first sign of life I'd seen in days. 
"Do you remember the night she taught you to play double
solitaire?" she asked.

	"Vividly," I replied.

	"Well, I knew something was going on right then.  She never
taught the rest of us to play, and I remembered how her eyes had
followed you down the hall when you went to bed.  I was pretty
sure of what I was going to find when I opened her diary."

	(I was amazed that Mom had been so reckless as to keep a record
of us.  I wondered how much detail she put down.  I wondered
what she really thought of me as a lover.)

	Rose continued with her story.  "I read about the first time
you made love to her and it broke my heart," she said.  Then she
turned to me with a look of anger and sorrow, "How could you?  I
always thought you loved me!"

	Huh?  I was totally floored now.  Was she jealous?

	Rose was talking faster now.  Trying to get it all out before
she lost her nerve.  "I though I could handle it.  I mean, like
I said, I was already pretty sure that you and she had done . .
. uh . . . it, but when I saw it in plain black and white I just
exploded.

	"I ran to find Mother and called her every vile name I could
think of.  I told her she was a whore and a pervert and a child
molester.  I said she already had the greatest husband in the
world, why did she have to steal the only man I wanted."

	SHIT!!  She said steal, she couldn't have meant Dad.

	"Wait a minute, Rose," I said.  "What do you mean.  I never
thought that you had any feelings for me."

	"I love you, Bobby.  I've always loved you," she said.  "Do you
remember the time we collided in a door way and rubbed against
each other for about five minutes?"

	I smiled and said, "Vividly," again.

	"Do you know why I backed away?  It was because I felt my
vagina getting wet and I was afraid you'd think I peed my pants
like a little girl.  I didn't want you to think of me as a
little girl."

	"Well, then," I said, "why did you always pull away when I
pulled that 'Is it felt" routine on you."

	"Did I ever try to get away before you got a good handful of
tit?" she asked.  "I pulled away because I wanted to see if you
would have the nerve to chase me.  You really were kind of
chicken, you know."

	Well, that didn't do my ego any good, but Rose was smiling
again.  I felt really good about that.

	But I had to ruin the mood.  The terrible guilt she felt had to
be dealt with.  "Tell me the rest," I said quietly.  "How do you
think the accident was your fault?"

	She was somber again.  "I know that Mom told Daddy about out
fight, and that she made some kind of confession to him.  When
he was on he phone saying they were coming home, I heard her
voice behind him.  She said something like 'Don't you know
enough?', so I figure she had confessed to an affair, but not
to. . ."  Her voice dropped to less than a whisper, like she was
afraid the walls would hear, ". . . incest.

	"I'm just so afraid that Daddy was distracted, or maybe they
were still arguing and he didn't see the other car.  I did that
to him.  If I had just controlled myself.  Even if I had to
confront Mom, I should have handled it better."

	Now I had something to go on.  I grabbed her shoulders and
turned her square to me.

	"Listen to me.  You seemed to have forgotten that our father
had a very strong and disciplined mind.  He could
compartmentalize his emotions and his tasks like no one else. 
No matter what Mom told him, when he got behind that wheel, he
was in complete control.

	"You don't believe me?  I talked to the cops who investigated
the accident and this is what they told me.  First, Dad did see
the other car.  The skid marks from where he braked show that he
wasn't speeding and did everything he could to avoid the crash,
but with cliff on the right side of the road, there was just no
where to go.  He did everything right, and it just didn't matter.

	"And as for there being on the road then, well, hell.  There
were coming back from church anyway."  I looked her in the eyes
and gave it to her straight.  "The truth is, probably the only
thing leaving early did was change where the accident was.  If
they had left five or ten or even fifteen minutes later, they
would still have been on the road as the same time as that
drunken asshole.

	"It wasn't your fault."

	She looked at me, perhaps a little relieved, perhaps a little
apprehensive.  "So now, what about us?"

	"What us is that?" I asked her as lightly as I dared.

	"I told you I love you.  I told you I want you.  When you were
rubbing my hands a little while ago I heard you say you loved
me.  Do you also 'want' me?"

	I took her hand and led her to our parent's bedroom.  Then I
surprised her when I laid out a heavy nightgown for her, and
gave her a sleeping pill.

	"I brought you in here because we are going to sleep together
tonight.  But we are going to sleep," I told her.  "After this
afternoon, I want to keep you close so I can be sure you don't
try that again.

	"But, I'm not going to lay a finger on you - tonight, anyway.  
I have a lot to think about."

	I left her to prepare for bed and went to her old bedroom
looking for Mom's diary.  Once I found it I went back to the
master bedroom.  Rose was in her nightgown and in bed, already
drowsy from the sleeping pill.

	I sat in Mom's old rocking chair and read her diary.  I had to
satisfy my curiosity.  I read her account of our first time. 
One passage caught my eye.  "He ate me to one good come, but I
had to fake three orgasms while fucking.  He tried his best and
he needs the confidence."  It began to look like this was my
night to have my ego pummeled.

	I felt much better when I read the entry from three weeks
later.  "Came FIVE times!   The boy is learning!!!"

	I also got an answer to my old worry.  To say that Mom was
trying to get pregnant would be - inexact, lets say.  The diary
revealed that she expected to get pregnant, but didn't actually
plan it.  You see, Mom lied about getting us some rubbers.  She
never used any kind of birth control.  She had assumed that if
she were getting fucked four or five times a day by an eager
teenager, well naturally she would conceive.  In fact near the
end of the three months we had together she began to wonder if I
was "firing blanks".

	Gee, thanks a lot, Mom.

	With that settled, I did that thinking I had told Rose I need
to do.  I deliberately was avoiding sex tonight, because I knew
that grief was a tremendous aphrodisiac.  And I hated to think
what grief combined with the guilt she was experiencing might be
doing to Rose's perceptions.  She has asked if I wanted her. 
Damn right I did, but I wanted it to be with clear heads on both
sides.

	And I had to wonder if I should get some sort of counseling for
her.  I was afraid to, because I feared she might be
institutionalized.  I didn't want to lose her for even a little
while.  I figured I would keep her with me and watch her.

	I also pulled my own soul out and reviewed it.  She said she
loved me and from other things she said, I gathered that she had
loved me for a long time.  Did I really love her?

	I tried to imagine my life without her.  It was a bleak
picture.  Even in these terrible circumstances, being with her
made my life worth all the pain.

	I considered the sex aspect.  Just putting the words Fuck and
Rose next to each other in my mind gave me a painful hard-on.  I
was sure it would be even better than fucking Mom.

	Okay, then what do we do?  I figured we would have to leave. 
If we set up housekeeping here were everyone knew us, it would
only be a matter of time before tongues started to wag. 
Besides, as much as I had once loved this house, it was Mom and
Dad's house and I couldn't stand it without them.

	So where do we go?   I couldn't return to Berkeley.  How do you
move your sister into your dorm room without causing talk?  And
I no longer had a desire to get a degree.  What for, to get a
good job so you would impress some snooty bitch enough get her
to "allow" you to eat her cunt?  Shit, I could have the woman I
really wanted without that.

	With that I put on some old pajama's and climbed into bed.  I
had lied to Rose about one thing.  I did touch her that night. 
I pulled my body up to hers and held her close.  Through the
night gown I could feel her breasts press and relax with each
breath.  And even in her sleep I could feel them harden.

	I woke up a little after sun rise.  During the night she had
turned to face me so when I opened my eyes I was looking
directly into her's.  She smiled at and leaned over to give me a
kiss.  Just a gentle peck on the cheek, though.  Had she changed
her mind?

	"Are you ready to talk about what we both said last night?" I
asked her.

	She nodded her head, and kissed me on the other cheek.

	I decided to go for broke.  "Rose, I meant it when I said I
loved you.  Will you marry me?"

	Her eyes lit up, and she sat up on the bed, clasping her hands
over her chest.  "If that were only possible," she said.

	"Listen, to me, Rose.  Believe it or not I've learned a few
things at college.  I've met people in the drug culture and in
the anti-war movement.  They  can help me get some fake ID; good
fakes.  We can each have different names and then get married. 
I want us to be together for always.  I can't love you any other
way."

	"Okay", she said.  "I'll marry you.  But I sure hope you don't
have any silly ideas about waiting until we're married to do
it."  She took a deep breath, "I mean, to fuck."

	I kissed her sweet lips.  "With you" I said, "it's not fucking.
It is making love."

	With that I began undoing the buttons on her nightgown.  And
this time when she leaned over to kiss me, I met her with parted
lips.  My tongue slid between her lips and toyed with hers.  She
pushed mine back and then followed it into my mouth.

	Once her night gown had been unbuttoned I pushed it off her
shoulders and down to her waist.  Her tits were now exposed and
like I said, she took after Mom.  Her nipples were the same
bright cherry red, and like Mom's they were large and shapely. 
I put my hands under them and lifted, rubbing my thumbs over her
hardening nipples.

	I went slow.  This was her first time and I didn't know yet
what she would like.  I kissed around her nipples and on the
underside of her breasts, letting her dictate the next move. 
"Oh, Bobby, my nips, please kiss my nips," she moaned.

	Now I was kissing and licking her nipples, then sucking them. 
I pulled the stiff nubbins into my mouth one at a time and
batted them with my tongue as hard as I could while sucking. 
When she gasped, I bit down lightly on the tit I was sucking.

	That brought a shriek of pleasure, from her.  So I kept doing
it for a while.  Then I leaned back and reached out for her. 
Taking a nipple between each thumb and forefinger I tugged her
tits up and out.

	"Oh, Bobby, I like that," she said.

	I grinned.  "Is it making you wet?  Down there between your
legs.  Are you getting all hot and sloppy?"

	She grinned back.  "Like a pot boiling over.  What are you
going to do about it?"

	I pushed her onto her back and gripped the nightgown where it
had bunched around her waist.  From last night's explorations I
knew she hadn't worn panties so as I pulled it down towards her
feet I was prepared for the sight of her pussy bush.

	Only, she now surprised me.  I'd never seen a grown woman with
a shaved pussy before.  There she was, clean as a whistle.  It
reminded me of the little girl pussies I had played with in
grade school.  But with big girl titties higher up, this was the
best of both worlds.

	Rose must have been thinking so to.  "I woke up about an hour
before you," she said.  "I remembered how you wanted me to join
the neighbor girls in your little pre-teen harem, but I was
scared of getting caught.  I decided this morning, that if you
and I made love today, I wanted you to have me smooth and
hairless like I would have been then.  I shaved it for you while
you slept.  Did I do right?"

	I gave her a very silly grin.  "Have I asked you to marry me
yet?"

	"Yes", she said.

	"Good," I replied.  "I'm going to be so busy with this
beautiful pussy of yours I might have forgotten later on.  Let's
see how this tastes."

	She had her own flavor, of course, a little like Mom but
lighter.  The lack of hair meant that it was easier to clean up
the overflow.  Her clit was prominent and very responsive.  When
I got around to pushing my tongue into her pussy hole I was in
for a surprise.  It was blocked by hymen; Rose was a virgin!

	I'd never had a virgin before, and so was a little unsure of
what to do.  I knew there would be some pain when I entered her
for the first time; should I go slow and work up to it, or just
punch right through?  I used my tongue to explore as much as I
could.  The membrane seemed quite thin, and the opening
comparatively large.  Punch it, I decided.

	Rose was loving what I was doing between her legs.  Every thing
Mom had taught me about pleasing a pussy I now gave as a legacy
to her daughter.

	"Oh, Bobby, that is so good.  Is a cock as good?  Tell me I'll
love it, Bobby."

	I remembered what Mom had said once about the naughtiness of
incest and how much better that made our fucking.  I knew I
wanted to preserve that, just as Mom had.

	I moved up to face Rose, my face covered with pussy juice.  I
replayed with her the conversation I had with my mother years
before, only now I was in her place.

	"Do you know what incest is?", I asked Rose.

	"What we are doing," she said.  "Sex in the family."

	"Do you know that incest is considered terribly wrong, immoral
and taboo by most people? "  She nodded.  "Well, I like to think
about that when we make love.  We have to use names around other
people, but in bed I want us to remember who we are.  I love
you, Rose, and I love hearing you say my name like you just did,
full of love and desire.  But when we make love call me Brother,
Little Sister, because it makes it just so much better."

	"Okay, Big Brother", she said.  Then her voice dropped as she
put her hand on my stiff cock.  "I've never done anything like
this before, but I'll let you put your penis in my mouth if you
want."

	Hmmm?  Did I want my sister to suck my cock.  Damn straight! 
But not now, I decided.  I wanted my cock to be completely hard
and my balls totally full when I popped her cherry.  "Well, Sis,
you need to know learn the names of your toys before I can let
you play with them."

	I stroked her left breast.  "What's this?"

	"My titty," she said.

	"Good."  I moved my hand down to her mound.  "And this?"

	"My cunt?" she said.

	"That's one word," I answered.  "But I don't like it.  Not on
you.  Sluts and whores and used up skags have cunts.  My
beautiful sister has a pussy.  A sweet, lovely, little pussy."

	Then I took my cock in my hand.  "Now this, well text books
call it a penis, but I'm not making love to a text book.  My
little sister should call this . . . "

	"A cock!", she blurted.

	I laughed, "So you do know the names.  How did a pure little
virgin like you get to be so smart?"

	She giggled, "I have some very impure girlfriends who kept me
informed.  But none of them were every naughty enough to take
their brother's to bed.  I guess, they just didn't have good
looking brothers like I do.

	"But, now answer my question.  Do you want to put your COCK in
my mouth?", she asked shouting "cock" like the world should know
what she was going to do.

	"Yes," I said.  "But later.

	" I want the first time I come with you to be with my cock in
your pussy.  Are you ready to become a woman?"

	She bit her lower lip and nodded.

	I knelt between her legs and began rubbing my cockhead up and
down the length of her pussy slit.  I wanted to make sure she
was still well lubed.  After about two minutes of that I was
afraid I was going to spurt all over her belly, so I centered my
cock on her pussy hole and pushed. 

	She was tighter than any girl I had ever screwed before.  I
started to think it wasn't going to go in, but then the head
popped past her pussy mouth and touched her hymen.  "Do you feel
that?", I asked.  "My cock is pressing on your maidenhead. 
You're still a virgin if we stop now.  Does my little sister
want to have her cherry popped by her big brother?"

	She put her hands on my ass.  "It's a husband's right," she
said.  "And since my big brother is my husband, it is his right."

	And then she pulled me into herself.  It was more like she was
popping her own cherry than me doing it.  She did give a little
scream when I went through, but she kept pulling until I was
completely buried in her.

	At that moment we became mates, man and wife.  The legal (or if
you prefer illegal) niceties would follow, but as far as we were
concerned we were now joined; 'til death did us part.

	I lay there on her for a moment, savoring the feeling.  Kissing
her, and rubbing her breasts.  Then I started to pump; slowly at
first in honor of her broken and bleeding hymen.  She moaned
with both my thrust and withdrawals.  The she asked for more.

	"Go faster, please, big brother.  My sore little pussy wants
you to make it feel all better.  Go faster."

	I didn't really want to go faster just yet.  This was our first
time together and I wanted it to last a long time.  But it was
her pussy being fucked and she had a right to say how it was
done.  I began to pump faster.

	About five minutes after we started she began to pant.  "Oh,
this is good.  Gotta come, gotta come, make me come!"

	I hear that some guys think about baseball, or income taxes, or
anything else that will keep them from coming too soon.  Well, I
was in my sister and I didn't want to think of anything but
that.  I was determined to prove my love by making this a great
fuck for my Rose.  I just made it a contest of willpower.  I
wouldn't come until she had plenty of pleasure.

	I gritted my teeth when she had her first orgasm, and by
slowing my thrusts I was able to hold off.

	"Was it good, little Sis?"  I asked her.  "Did my sweet Rosie
like her first cock-in-pussy come?"

	"Oh, God, YES!!" she screamed.  "Give me more."

	I worked her tight, clutching pussy through another orgasm, and
she was building for a third.  I knew I couldn't hold out this
time so I asked her, "Should I pull out?"

	"Huh?"

	"I'm bare petered in you," I said.  "Do you want me to pull
out?"

	She locked her legs behind my back.  "NO!!"

	"But what if . . . "

	She leaned close and whispered in my ear, "My period was twelve
days ago and I want a baby.  Brother/husband, give me a baby."

	There was no one to hear.  The whisper had just been to make it
more erotic.  Our deliciously dirty little secret that not even
the walls should hear.  It sent both of us over the edge.

	I pulsed cum into her so hard, it was a wonder my cock didn't
fly off into her as well.  Especially as her pussy muscles
clamped down and held me like they planned to keep my cock in
her forever, just pumping more sperm into her womb.

	But even the world's all time champion, best come has to end. 
I collapsed next to her while she was fitting a pillow under her
ass.  "They said in one of Mom's old marriage manuals that this
would increase our chances of conceiving," she said.  "I'm not
trying to trap you or anything, but when you said we should get
married, I thought you meant having a family, too."

	"I did," I told her.  "But, since I hadn't actually asked you
about kids I figured you should have the chance to say no."

	"Don't married people usually make babies?", she asked.

	"Well, I don't know all that many brother/sister husband and
wife couples," I said.  "So far as I know anyway, so I can't say
what they might do.  We have to be careful, though, until we can
get out of here.  You and me alone in this house and suddenly
you've got a big belly, it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to
figure it out."

	"I don't much care," she said.  "You'll be a father before the
year is out if I have anything to say about it."

	Then she smiled and said, "This was so perfect.  I'm so glad
our first time was in our parent's bed, in the home we love. 
Was it perfect for you?"

	"Well, one thing was sort of missing," I told her.  Then I
explained my old fantasy of taking her viginity on the beach at
sunset, while the waves roared the sea-gods approval of our
mating.

	"You should have told me," she said.  "I could have waited."

	"No," I replied.  "I realized that you wanted to do it here, in
Mom and Dad's bed.  I guess I love you too much to deny you
anything.  Besides, I'm sure we'll make love on a beach soon."

	"But it won't be our first time," she said as a single tear
slid down her cheek.  "Someday I'll find a way to make it up to
you."

	The rest of that day we made plans, in between bouts of love
making that took place wherever in the house we happened to be. 
We would sell the house, collect on our parent's insurance, and
move.  We would find a new place to live and settle down to
raise our family.

	The next day I got the wheels rolling.  I contacted some
friends who put me in touch with the people who would create our
new identities.  I wanted a minimum number of fake documents,
basically a fake birth certificate for both of us.  We would use
those get real documents like social security and driver's
license.  I also wanted a fake draft card.  I had sweated out my
lottery year and I didn't want to do it again.

	When I came home that evening Rose met me at the door dressed
in a grin and nothing else.  I led her to a spot of soft grass
under a giant oak and fucked her then and there.  It was great
as always and I rolled off her very satisfied.

	Rose, however, was far from done.  "Well, big brother, you've
fucked me in our parents bed, on the living room couch, in the
bathtub, at the kitchen sink, and in the front yard.  When do I
get to suck your cock?"

	"First tell me if you really want to, or do you just think you
have to."

	She grinned and said, "Mom said you tasted great.  I love to
eat, you know."

	She bent over and licked my limp cock like an ice cream cone
and I started to harden fast.  When I was stiff and ready she
pushed her lips down my shaft until she touched my pubic hair
and then began bobbing up and down.  "OH, ROSE," I moaned.  "You
are doing that very well.  If you don't watch yourself  you're
going to have a mouthful of your brother's nasty baby juice."

	I heard a muffled grunt that might have been "Good", but it
didn't matter what she said.  What mattered was that she didn't
let up and after about five minutes I was spewing into her mouth.

	Well, teaching her sixty-nine seemed like the next logical
step, and Rose loved it.  I think she would have preferred doing
that to regular sex, except she said she would never get knocked
up that way.

	In time everything was in place.  We had new names and the
house was sold.  The proceeds plus our folks insurance would
give us a nice nest egg for the future.  Now we had to decide
what to throw out and what to keep.  Rose insisted we keep the
big bed, I demanded we keep Mom's diaries.  I also told her she
would have too keep some of her clothes.

	Rose had taken to going around the house naked all day, every
day.  And while I loved the view, it was certainly distracting. 
She only dressed when people would stop by and then only in
sweat pants, a sweat shirt, and sandals; they were very easy to
get out off.

	Our house was quite isolated and so she could get away with it,
but it was likely that our new home would be in some town and
she would have to be more discrete.

	I wanted to keep Mom's diaries because I saw them as a link to
her.  I had even started up a sort of conversation with her.  If
there was something I wanted to say to her I would go through
the diaries until I came to passage on that subject and in the
margins I would write my message.  Like a passage where she
recorded her feelings when her mother died; there I poured out
all the pain and sorrow I felt now.

	Or on a lighter note, I turned to a page where she commented on
my growing sexual prowess and thanked her.  I told her that what
she had given me was now being used to please her daughter.

	I even looked in the last volume, the pages where she spoke of
Rose's discovery.  I read of the pain and confusion Mom had felt
those last few days.  One thing struck me though.  Her last
entry said, "I understand now, Rose is in love with him.  I wish
they could be together and be happy, but the world will never
permit it.  Oh, my poor babies."

	That was when I made my first entry.  I told Mom that we had
found a way, but that the price was high.  I told her that as
much as I loved Rose I would give her up if that would bring
them back.  And I said I was sure Rose felt the same way.  I
told her we would take care of each other and never forget her.

	About three months after Rose and I began making love I went to
the diaries and got down 1996.  I turned to the page where Mom
had worried about me "firing blanks".  I could finally answer
her.

	"Dear Mom - You don't have to worry anymore.  I don't shoot
blanks.  I got Rosie pregnant.  I guess the timing just wasn't
right for you and me."

	Rose had told me that night at dinner.  It was almost like a
1950's sitcom.  She told me that she wanted pickles and
ice-cream for dessert.  I made gagging sounds and said "Who in
the world could possible want something like that."

	"A pregnant lady," she said.

	Finally I heard her.  "You mean we . . . I mean you . . .?"

	"Yes, big brother, we are pregnant."

	I went around the table and knelt by her chair.  I kissed her
hand and said, "We've got everything we need now for a marriage
license.  Let's drive to Reno and get married.  And in case I
haven't said it lately, I love you very much."

	Well, Rose said that was a great idea.  But, for once she was
the practical one.  "We're moving in a week.  Let's wait until
then.  I don't want to come back to this place once I'm your
legal wife.  I can live in sin here, but once we're mostly legal
I want my own place."

	"But if somebody notices," I said.

	"Silly, I'm only about six weeks gone.  We have plenty of time
before I show.

	"But now I would like to celebrate in bed.  You don't mind
fucking a pregnant broad, do you?"

	"I've never done that," I said, "but I can't think of a
pregnant woman I would rather make love to than you."

	And then it was to bed.  It was a great fuck.  I concentrated
on every feeling, emotion, sensation.  I wanted to remember the
first time I fucked my sister pregnant just as clearly as the
night I took her cherry.  I only wished I known when I was
getting her pregnant.  I would have liked to keep that one in a
special part of my memory also.

	A week later we were in Reno getting married.  We spent a week
there, fucking, gambling, then fucking again.  After our
honeymoon we drove north in search of a place to live.  We found
a place in Idaho.  It was a nice town, with beautiful scenery
and great hunting and fishing.  I found a job at a local garage
and life was good.

	And the sex was great.  Pregnant women are a wonder to fuck. 
The swelling belly and the darkening nipples are, to me at
least, extremely arousing.  And when you feel your child move
under you as you make love to its mother, it is a highly kinky
thrill.

	A little over six months later Ashley was born.  It was an
awesome moment, holding my little girl for the first time.  I
was determined to make everything in the world perfect for her. 
She was my baby and I would never forget the love and humility I
felt that day.

	I went home that night and got down Mom's diary to tell her she
had a beautiful granddaughter.  I had never told Rose about my
"conversations" with Mom, but it seemed my loving sister/wife
had already found out.  I turned to the page where I told Mom
Rose was pregnant.  Under my message I found another one in
Rose's handwriting.

	"Dear Mom - Don't listen to him.  I was there too.  WE got me
pregnant."

	I had to chuckle as I recorded Ashley's birth and her
particulars.  I think Mom would have found it funny too.

	At the doctor's recommendation Rose and I waited almost two
months before we began making love again.  Rose was a little
worried that having a baby might have made her less attractive
to me but I quickly proved that I loved her pussy as much after
she had the baby as I had before she got pregnant and while she
was pregnant.

	And her tits were better than ever.  I loved sucking Rose's
sweet milk.  I fucked her tits while squeezing her milking
breasts, getting us both sloppy and horny out of our minds.

	Ashley grew healthy and happy.  We prospered and four years
later I recorded the birth of Crystal, our second daughter. 
There was only one bit of unhappiness.  It had been a difficult
pregnancy and the doctor told Rose it would be dangerous to have
another.  He recommended she have her tubes tied and we agreed.

	Rose would have been happy to take the risks of more babies,
but I told her I couldn't lose her.  We had two darling girls
and we were happy.  Why take unnecessary chances.

	And so we settled down a happily married couple with two kids,
a dog, a mortgage.  It was Norman Rockwell America.  If you
overlooked the fact that every night a brother and sister were
fucking and sucking in defiance of the laws and the gods.



Part 3 - On the Beach



	If this were a Greek tragedy I would now have to write about
how our lives were suddenly destroyed by some implacable fate. 
In fact, nothing of the sort happened.  The only change was that
when Ashley was ten and Crystal was six we moved back to
California.

	We loved our home in Idaho, but as the survivalists and
neo-Nazi's moved in I figured we had better move out.  With the
lunatic fringe taking over there was bound to be trouble and
that would mean investigations and people asking questions that
I would just as soon not be asked.

	So I found us a new home in Coast Range and we settled in
again.  Still Mr. and Mrs. Normal.  I was happy and really
didn't need anything to spice up my life.  I thought Rose felt
the same way.

	But one afternoon when Ashley was fifteen Rose shook me out of
my hammock.  "The weather is beautiful today," she said, "and
the sunset should be spectacular.  Why don't you and Ashley go
for a walk on the beach.  There is something you wanted to do
there a long time ago, and I think she is ready for it."

	"Huh?" I said.  "What are you talking about."

	"Just like you wanted, I've dressed her in panties, a bra,
jeans and a blouse.  I'm sure she will be a spectacular sight
silhouetted against the sunset."

	"Rose, what the fuck are you talking about?"

	"Along time ago you told me that you had wanted to take my
virginity on the beach at sunset.  I told you I would make it up
to you one day.  Take Ashley and do for her what I didn't let
you do for me."

	I was stammering objections right and left went Ashley came up
behind me and whispered, "Come on, Dad.  You've done your mother
and your sister.  Don't tell me you'd draw the line at your
daughter."

	Aha! Now I have an out.  Or so I thought.

	"Yes,", I said.  "It's not right to have sex with my daughter. 
You're just a kid."

	She grinned and said, "I'm older than you were when you fucked
your mom."

	"That's different," I said.  "It's different for boys.  And
like I said, I draw the line at daughters."

	"So," Rose suddenly said, "don't fuck your daughter.  Just fuck
your niece."

	"Wha . . . wha . . . what?" I stammered.

	"She's your niece," Rose said.  "I'm your sister, so by
definition my daughter is your niece.  That makes it all better,
" she said sarcastically.

	Well, a man learns that sometimes you just have to cooperate
with the inevitable.  I turned to my daughter and said, "Ash,
are you sure about this?  Is this what you want, or has your
mother finally gone completely round the bend?"

	She leaned over and gave me a full blown French kiss that I can
still taste years later.  "I want it, Dad.  I found Granny's old
diaries, and the notes you and Mom made and your are not leaving
me out the fun any longer.  I think incest is just such a cool
idea.  I mean, my dad calls my mom "Sis", and means it."

	Maybe keeping those diaries is not such a good idea.

	I told Ashley to load a camp lantern and sleeping bag into the
car.  Then I turned to my nutty sister/wife.  "I suppose you
know that there is no time to go into town to get condoms and
still make the beach by sunset."

	She smiled and said, "Of course, that's why I waited until now
to tell you."

	"Listen to me, this is dangerous.  What if I get her pregnant? 
She's already an incest baby, for God's sake."

	She smiled again.  "You'd better.  She's been picking baby
names all week."

	I was thunderstruck and must have looked, because Rose suddenly
hugged me.  Not a lover's hug, but a comforting motherly hug. 
"It'll be all right," she assured me.  "I'm not so sold on those
deformed baby stories we hear about incest.  I mean, Ashley and
Crystal are terrific kids, and completely healthy."

	"Yeah," I said.  "But it's only been one generation."

	"Look," she replied, "there is nothing wrong with you or me,
and nothing wrong with our kids.  I really don't see why your
and Ashley's kid would be a monster."

	Then she played her trump card.  "I know you wanted a son.  So
did I.  Please, at least let me have a grandson."

	It wasn't her words.  Oh, I did want a son; it may be
chauvinistic of me, but a man wants a son.  But what got me was
that as she spoke Rose began to cry.  A quite, deep, heartfelt
weeping.  	 I felt like a complete asshole.  For the first time
in fifteen years I had made my sister cry and I hated me for it.
Okay, I would go along with her nutty plan.  If that was what it
took to make her happy I would do it.

	It was a long drive to the beach I wanted to go to.  It was
near our old home, a small overlooked cove with nothing to
attract you but the solitude.  I was pretty sure that no one
would discover my daughter and me when we made love.

	As we drove as talked to Ashley.  I wanted to erase any idea
she had that I was being dragooned into this.  Once I decided to
fuck Ashley I was very much into the project.  She was a lovely
girl.. She had the big tits of her mother and grandmother, plus
red hair and hazel eyes like my father.

	I decided to skip the quiz Mom had given me and that I had
redone with Rose.  It was clear that she had a pretty clear
picture of how we were related, and what sex between us meant.

	We talked about her classes, the movies she liked, her favorite
music, what was she reading now, anything but sex.

	Then I asked her, "So, tell me, when did you first hear of
incest?  For obvious reasons its not really a subject your
mother and I have discussed at the dinner table."

	"Oh, Uncle/Daddy," she said.  "Kids are still learning more
about sex from each other than from parents.  One of my friends
told me that she really wanted to fuck her daddy, but couldn't
because it was incest.

	"I didn't know the word so I looked it up in the dictionary and
then asked Mom about it.  I asked her why people didn't do
incest.  She said I should read Grandma's diary."

	Damn!  So my loving, sneaky-bitch sister had set me up.  When
Ashley saw that her family had been into incest for at least two
generations already it was not surprising that she wanted to
play too.

	"Daddy, are we forcing you into this?  I don't want you that
way.  If you really hate the idea, I guess I could do without
it."

	Now I really loved my little girl.  She was worried about me!

	"I was only afraid of hurting you, honey," I reassured her.  "I
am really turned on at the idea of making love to my dear baby
girl.  I would never have come to you, but now that I know that
you want to have sex with me, and your mother doesn't object, I
intend to give you a great fucking.  I'm sorry that your future
husband is going to have a hard act to follow up, but that's his
mom's fault for not teaching him better."

	Finally, we got to the beach.  As I had hoped it was deserted
(they call this part of California the "lost coast").  We got
there just before sunset and after spreading the sleeping bag we
began kissing.

	While I do love Ashley as a father, and more, there was really
nothing very romantic about our beach tryst.  What I do with
Rose is love; this was about sex.

	As the sky turned red I had Ashley do a slow strip while she
stood on a dune just a little above me, and she was lovely
against the afterglow.  Then I brought her down to the sleeping
bag.  I had stripped myself by then and I hugged her bare body
to mine.  We exchanged a deep kiss while I felt her breasts and
pelvis pressing against me.

	While I sucked her tits I began fingering her pussy.  As I
slipped my finger deep into her.

	Hmmm?  Rose was wrong.  No cherry here.  I wondered what little
high school shit had done her.

	She seemed to have read my mind.  "It was a candle, Daddy. 
Don't worry, you're my first.  And at least until I get your
baby, you're my only."

	Well, it was a load off my mind to know that she shouldn't feel
any pain.

	I moved down and licked her pussy.  She tasted a lot like her
mother, but she was a lot juicier.  Her flow was so fast and
rich that I couldn't keep up and a lot of pussy juice soaked
into the sleeping bag.

	Figuring she would never get any more ready I mounted her there
on the beach.  As I said, there was no cherry to slow me down,
but she hadn't used a Christmas candle to open herself up.  My
cock was larger than her waxy friend and there was a marvelous
snugness to her cunt.

	At the same time she was so wet there was no danger of a quick
come.  I could give the girl a great ride and I meant to.

	It was exciting being with my little fourteen-year-old
daughter, of course, but in many ways fucking Rose was better. 
First and foremost was the fact that we were soulmates.  We
connected on a deep spiritual level, not just cock and cunt.

	And I preferred Rose's breasts.  Ashley had good sized tits,
especially for a girl her age, and they had the firmness teen
breasts are famous for.  But, as should be obvious by now, I
like mature, womanly tits.  Ashley's teen breasts could not
excite me the way her grandmother and mother did.  Perhaps when
she had given milk and her nipples had become baby chewed they
would be more attractive.

	We started missionary, naturally, then when my back started to
get tired after about ten minutes I had her get up on her knees
and started into doggy.  We kept that up for about another ten
minutes and then I lay back on the sleeping bag and had her get
on top of me.  This was very nice.  The glow from the lantern
played over her tits and smooth tummy.  I loved the way her tits
bounced as she humped herself up and down on my shaft.

	I also liked playing with her tits as we fucked this way.  I
reached up and took one in each hand.  At first I just wrapped
my hands around her tits and let her bouncing nipples tickle my
palms.  Then I began squeezing, tugging and pinching her stiff
little nubs.  She started to moan and I knew she was close.

	I rolled her over, and back on top I took over the fuck.  I
started pounding into her, corkscrewing in her hole to make it
better.  I was determined to make her come big time, and when
she did I planned to pour every ounce of sperm I had in my balls
into her pussy.

	Ashley started to spasm and clawed my back.  "I coming,
Uncle/Daddy!  Make me a sister/mommy.  Please come in me . . .
in me . . . in me . . .  IN ME!!!!"

	Well, that was my cue and I didn't disappoint her.  I emptied
myself into her pussy and I felt a great satisfaction in doing
so.  "Make me a daddy/grandddaddy," I whispered.  "Take Daddy's
cum and make a little boy with it.  Give Daddy a son and maybe
one day you can fuck your son and brother at the same time."

	As we lay on the beach and I cuddled her in my arms I decided
to explore that idea a little further.  Like Ashley had said,
incest was a real turn on.  "How about it, Honey?  Are you going
to take my grandkids to bed like my Mom did for me?"

	"I don't know, Daddy," she said.  "Right now my guess would be
no.  I love the idea of fucking you and even having your baby,
but I don't think I'm going to want to have sex with my sons. 
For one thing, they won't be you, not even the one we're trying
to make now.  For another thing, once I pick my mate I won't
wander, not even to my son's bedroom."

	"Suppose he has to go away, like my dad did?"

	"If my husband were to die, I might sleep with my son, or come
back to you, Dad.  But so long as he's alive I won't."

	She was only fourteen and a hopeless romantic.  She was setting
some really high standards for herself and her future husband. 
I just hoped she found a man who could meet them, because if he
ever hurt her, I'd have to kill the bastard.

	"It's getting cold," I said.  "Let's have another fuck and then
head for home."

	"What's the matter, Daddy?" she giggled.  "Can't you get it up
more than twice anymore?"

	"Yes, I can, you little snot," I shot back.  "But I have to
save something for your mother.  I have a lot to thank her for
tonight."

	Well, after that Ashley and I available to each other when we
felt the urge.  It wasn't a constant orgy, and she never joined
Rose and I in bed.  Rose made it clear that she would claw her
daughter's eyes out if she even tried it.  Still, we made love
two or three time a week.  I taught her all the positions, and
how to suck cock.  She became especially fond of taking it up
the ass, which was nice because while Rose would do it if I
asked, she didn't really like it.

	About six months after we had started having sex Ashley told me
she wanted to go to the beach again.

	We got there in time for sunset again and again Ashley did her
strip.  Again she stood on the bluffs showing off against the
deep red of sundown.  There was the thrust of her lovely
breasts, the counter thrust of her ass, the rise of her mons,
and above the mons another bulge!!!

	"This is an important anniversary for me, Daddy," she said. 
"The three month's anniversary of my missing my period."  Then
she walked to me, took my hand and placed it on her swelling
womb.  "What shall we call him?"

	"Richard," I said, "after my father."

	She placed one hand on each side of the bulge and said,
"Richard, this is your father, and mine."

	I kissed the bulge and said, "Richard, your father loves you
very much."

	Then we made wild, mad, horny love on the beach.

	When we got home I grabbed Rose and dragged her to the bedroom.
We had our first "triple-header" in a while after I told her the
news.  She was a charged up about the new baby as I was.

	We arranged for Ashley to take a year's schooling in France. 
Well, officially.  In fact she stayed in a cottage we often
rented up in Oregon.  That way she could keep her reputation
intact and we could visit her regularly.  In fact, either Rose
or I were there every day and the whole family on weekends.

On those days (and nights) when I was there without Rose sex was
definitely on the agenda.  I had thought Rose had been hot when
she was carrying, but Ashley was a wild woman.  One reason I
sent Rose to stay with Ash on occasion was so I could rest.

	You may be wondering how Crystal was handling this.

	It was one week after Ashley had announced her pregnancy when
ten-year-old Crystal came into my office one morning and said,
"Mommy says you should take me to the beach tonight, Daddy.  Can
we go?  I want to look for sand dollars."

	Well, not so bad.  Looking for sea shells by the seashore
should be safe.

	Then Crystal added, "And then you can teach me about babies,
like you did Ashley."

	SHIT!!

	"Rose, get in here right now, goddamn it!" I screamed.

	Rose was less understanding than she had been six months
earlier.  "Don't pretend you don't want to, or that you wouldn't
like it," she said.

	"What objection are you going to raise this time?  How is she
different from Ashley."

	No problem this time.  "She's just a little kid," I said.

	But Rose had been waiting for me to say that.  In fact, she was
setting me up.  She leaned in close and whispered in my ear, "We
went skinny-dipping last week while you and Ash were at the
beach.  She is totally hairless."

	At once my mind and cock were racing back to my grade school
days.  A hairless, baby smooth pussy, and this time I would know
where to put my cock.

	I told Crystal to go put on her bathing suit, and to put the
sleeping bag and lantern in the car, "In case we are out after
dark."

	"Oh, goody," she said, clapping her hands together.

	"How much does she know," I asked.

	Rose wasn't letting off the hook even a little bit this time. 
"Not a damn thing.  But, I told her you'd tell her and show her
everything she would ever need to know about babies.  She still
thinks boys are yucky.  She told me she was glad she didn't have
big tits like me and Ashley because they would get in the way
when she was catching a pass.  She wonders how Ashley knows the
stork is coming.  You're getting a completely innocent child."

	Then she looked me in the eye.  "Corrupt her," she said.

	Rose and I had always had a pretty "bread-and-butter" sex life;
if you overlook the incest angle.  No water sports, no bondage,
no SM.  No, good old fashioned fucking and oral sex seemed to be
our limits.  Now I realized that Rose was deeply kinky, but in a
mental way.  She was really getting off on the idea that I would
turn our pure little girl into a slut.

	Crystal had led a very sheltered life.  Naturally shy, she was
a homebody with few friends.  While Ashley had had a female
equivalent of my Cousin Joey to provide her with basic
misinformation about sex, Crystal knew nothing.

	I was in a daze as I imagined how this night would go.  How
would Crystal react when I slid my tongue into her mouth when I
kissed her?  Would she think it was gross, or would it make her
wet?

	I wondered how her pussy would taste.  Did her youth and virgin
state mean she would be sweeter than her mother and sister?

	And what about her nipples?  She was a flat-chested as she was
hairless.  Would her nipples be responsive when I licked and
sucked them?

	We'd have oral sex before fucking, I decided.  I wondered how
much of my cock I could fit into that little mouth.	

	I would have to start from scratch, like I had with those
little classmates of mine many years before.  She would have to
be taught all the naughty words (that would be fun!) and each
step into debauchery would have to be explained to her, right up
to the moment when I smashed through her tiny pussy's entrance
and ripped her cherry with my cock.

	But no, that would cause her pain and I couldn't hurt my little
Crystal.  I was saved!  I wouldn't be fucking my darling girl
tonight.

	Only my traitor mind wouldn't let go of the idea.  "Who do you
think you are kidding," I asked myself.  "Long before we get to
that point your tongue will have gorged itself on her pussy and
you'll have unloaded at least one load of cum into her mouth. 
What makes you think you can stop then?"

	Okay, I decided.  I won't be able to stop myself.  But, damn
it!  I won't hurt her!  I WILL BE GENTLE!  That was a promise
that I knew I could keep.

	We got to the beach earlier than usual, but it was still
deserted.  The fall was coming on and it was too cold and windy
for tourists. Only those with serious business, like fucking
their baby daughters, would be on the beach today.

	I had found a cave some months earlier and I planned on making
it our love nest tonight.  While Crystal searched for shells I
gathered driftwood for a fire.

	As evening approached I called Crystal to me.  It would have
looked idyllic to any outside observer.  A father and his little
girl having a picnic on the beach.

	After we ate Crystal and I sat in the cave, sheltered from the
wind and warmed by the fire.  I held her close, but not tightly.
I wanted her to feel loved and secure, not trapped.  As the sun
went down I stroked her lovely hair and kissed her lightly on
the cheeks and forehead.

	"It's really pretty here, Daddy," she said.  "How long can we
stay?"

	"As long as you want to, sweetheart," I said.

	Then I took and deep breath and got down to it.  "Besides,
didn't you have something to ask me?  Something about babies?"

	She looked up and me.  "Yeah.  Well, Daddy, how come Ashley is
going to have a baby?  Judy Jackson is a lot older than Ash and
she hasn't got any babies."

	"Well, honey, the reason Ashley is having a baby is that Daddy
fucked her and got her pregnant."

	I knew she was confused by the words.  I planned it that way; I
wanted her to keep asking questions.  Maybe she wouldn't even
notice that she was being seduced.

	"What's 'pregnant', Daddy?"

	Okay, an easy one first.  "Well, pregnant is just a short way
of saying some girl or woman is going to have a baby."

	She was clearly embarrassed at her next question.  I could
barely hear her.

	"What's 'fucked' mean, Daddy.  Isn't that a bad word?"

	"Well, it's a bad word if you use it a bad way.  It is really a
nice thing.  Fucked means that Daddy put his cock in Ashley's
pussy  and squirted his come in her."

	More words she either didn't know, or didn't understand in this
context.  And my plan was working.  She hadn't seemed to notice
that I was now gently rubbing her crotch and was stroking her
chest.

	"Daddy, I don't know some of those words.  What's a 'cock'? 
And Ashley doesn't have a cat, so how could you put your cock in
it?  And how do you squirt come?  That means to get to
someplace."

	"Yes," I said, "it was a very nice place."

	"Daddy!  You're just being silly."

	"Okay, honey, I'll stop teasing.  My cock is . . . well, maybe
I'd better show you."

	Everything was going according to plan.  She was interested but
not frightened as I slipped off my shorts.  Of course  I had a
hard-on to beat the band, but she wouldn't recognize it as such
and so wouldn't understand that before long I was going to force
this stiff organ into her body.

	"See this is my cock.  I use it to make babies.  I used it to
make you and Ashley in your mother, and then I used it to make a
baby in Ashley.  I make the babies by putting this in a girl's
pussy.  That's just a name for it, it's not a real cat and all
girls have one, even you."

	"I do, Daddy?"

	"Sure.  It's . . . well, I can't show you because you've got
your swim suit on.  Maybe you should take it off."

	"Okay, Daddy," she said, tugging the shoulder straps down.  In
just seconds my little daughter was naked and snuggled in her
daddy's arms.

	I didn't mind at all that she was titless.  She had cute little
nipples that just barely rose above the plane of her chest. 
They were the family's signature red, and very responsive.  When
I licked them they quickly hardened and she moaned, "I like
that, Daddy!  Do it some more."

	After about five minutes of nipple play I put my palm on her
little mons and rubbed it slowly.  "This is your pussy mound,
Baby," I said.  Then I slipped just the tip of my pinkie finger
into her hole, "And this is your pussy."

	I started a slow and gentle in and out combined with a circling
motion, stretching her just slightly.

	"Daddies make babies by putting their cocks into pussies and
making come squirt into the girl.  Daddies and Mommies do it
just for fun, too, but sometimes they make a baby when they do
it."

	Suddenly Crystal was quietly sobbing.  Had I hurt her already?

	"What's the matter, Baby?" I asked.

	"Oh, Daddy," she bawled, "I won't never be a mommy!"

	"What do you mean, Crystal?"

	"There's something wrong with my pussy.  I keep bleeding there."

	This was an interesting development.  And a dangerous one. 
Like usual I was totally without condoms.

	But whatever, I had better reassure my baby girl.

	"Do you bleed all the time?" I asked, not letting on that I
knew more than she did.  "I don't see any bleeding now."

	"No, Daddy, not all the time.  Just for a few days at a time."

	"And how often does this happen?"

	"Every month since school got out," she sobbed.

	Three months then. 

	"Have you asked Mommy about this?" I asked.  I had to know if
Rose was aware of Crystal's periods.  It she had let my little
stay ignorant and frightened just to get a kinky thrill, we were
through!  But Rose didn't know.

	"No, Daddy,I didn't talk to her" Crystal answered.  "Daddy, I'm
scared I might be dying." And she began to cry even harder.

	"Don't worry, Crystal," I whispered in her ear as I hugged her
close.  "It just means that you are almost a grown-up girl, a
woman.  You don't have to worry that you'll never be a mommy. 
You could be mommy very soon.  That bleeding means that you can
start having babies now.

	"When was the last time this happened."

	She thought for a second, "About two weeks ago."

	Damn, she really could be a mommy soon.

	She was calmer now.  "What about squirting come, Daddy?  How do
you do that?"

	"Well, like I said, the Daddy sticks his cock into the girl's
pussy and moves back and forth until it squirts.

	"Here, I'll show you."  I put her little hand around my cock. 
"Move your hand up and down on Daddy's cock."

	She started to jack me off, but I had no intention of wasting
my cum in the air.  I just wanted to keep her interested and set
her up for the next stage.  I let her jack me for a couple of
minutes and then stopped her.  "This isn't feeling very good to
me, honey.  Cocks are very tender and your hand feels kind of
rough and dry."

	Lying bastard!  It was really warm, moist and very soft.  But I
wanted to get the next step.

	"A girl's pussy is hot and wet.  Let's try putting just a
little bit in your mouth so it will feel like a pussy and I can
make the come squirt."

	The dear trusting child bent her head into my lap and slipped
her lips over my cock.

	"OH, GOD, THAT IS GOOD!!", I moaned.

	"Move your head up and down, baby," I begged.  "Take as much as
you can without choking."

	You know there was no way I was going to last in that young
sweet mouth.  I came with her just like I had with my mother the
first time she sucked me.  Fast and copious.

	"It's okay, honey, this is good for you.  Swallow it all down
and it will make Daddy very happy."

	And she did.

	While she sucked I'd been working her pussy.  She hadn't
complained when I switched to my middle finger and now I two
fingers in her, stretching her.  Getting her ready for my cock.

	"Wow, honey," I said, "your sure did that good.  When you're a
little bit older (like tomorrow night I thought) I teach you
some tricks that will make that feel even better to Daddy.  That
is, if you are willing to do it again."

	"I'll do anything for you, Daddy," she said, and beamed her
heart-stealing smile at me.

	"Did you like doing it, Crys?  How did it feel to you?  Did you
like the taste?"

	"Well, I did it for you, Daddy.  Was it supposed to feel good
to me?"

	Excellent, I thought.  She is providing the opening.

	I gently pushed her down on the sleeping bag and spread her
legs.  "Here, honey.  Let Daddy do something you will like.  I
promise."

	I put my  lips and tongue to work on that lovely baby pussy and
was soon savoring the finest pussy juice ever.  She was like her
sister, her mother, her grandmother; a wonderful pussy to eat
with a marvelous flavor.  And like them her musk was driving me
mad with desire.

	When she came I looked up into her eyes and prepared to take
the final step.  I pulled her into my arms and looked into her
eyes.

	As I prepared to take her I realized what it was about her that
turned me on so.

It was not her hairless pussy, but I did love it.  It was not
the fact that she was my pre-teen daughter, though that would
have been enough.  No it was the fact of her innocence.  And I
realized with sadness that I would miss that in her,

	It would never be like this again.  Tonight she was trying to
please me, with no real idea of what was going on.  Tomorrow,
she would want it.  Like her mother and sister she would be a
sexual being from now on.  Her spiritual virginity was even more
appealing than the cherry in her pussy.  Taking that away from
her was a greater sin, and a greater thrill, than penetrating
her pussy.

	"Tell me, Crystal, would you like to do the baby thing with me?
Would you let Daddy fuck you?"

	She looked into my eyes, so trusting.  "Will it go into me,
Daddy?  Your cock thing looks a lot bigger than my pussy hole."

	I grinned and said, "Look down, baby girl."

	I had kept up my fingering and now had three fingers pumping 
into her.  The mouth of her pussy was wide enough now.  Once I
broke her hymen I would have to stretch the rest of her cunt
tube, but I would get in.

	"See, honey, pussies can stretch to take a daddy's cock.  Lay
down and I'll show you."

	Soon I was on my knees between her legs, centering my cock on
her pussy.  I slipped into the mouth of her cunt easily and then
reached her cherry.  "This part may hurt just a little," I said,
and then pushed hard.

	Her hymen was ripped away so quickly she didn't have time to
tense up, but it had been thicker than I expected and she was
hurt.

	"OW, DADDY, IT HURTS!!" she screamed loudly enough to frighten
the gulls.  "DON'T HURT ME, DADDY!!"

	I kissed her and stroked her face.  "I'm sorry, Baby.  I didn't
want to hurt you, but that was the only way.  I promise, it wont
hurt anymore."

	She was crying and because of that I started to soften a bit. 
The shrinkage was just enough to let me slide all the way into
her tube.  Which brought a very different response from Crystal.

	"Oh, Daddy, that feels funny, but nice."

	"Are you still hurting, Crys?" I asked.

	"Just a little, Daddy, but I think it is going away."

	She soon stopped crying and we started fucking.  As my cock
regained its former stiffness and girth she was stretched, but
fairly slowly and from the inside this time.  It must have been
a wild sensation for her, to feel my cock harden in her.

	After about ten minutes of fucking she had her first
cock-in-cunt orgasm and her pussy muscles began to grab my cock.
For me it was like being in a velvet vise and much sooner than I
would have wanted I came in her.  "Oh, Crystal, my baby love," I
whispered, "I'm coming, too."

	She hadn't said much during our fuck.  But after I calmed down
she kissed my cheek and asked, "When will I have my baby, Daddy?"

	I smiled at her and said, "Well, you don't have a baby every
time you fuck.  I did it with my mother for three months and she
never got pregnant.  And it took two months for your mother to
get pregnant with Ashley.  And Ash took at least six weeks to
get pregnant."

	A thought just struck me.  My batting average was improving.  I
hadn't connected with Mom at all in three months, but knocked up
Rose in only two, and Ashley in six weeks or less.  Crystal
might be a mommy sooner than any of us planned.

	We fucked twice more that night and I ate her again.  It was a
lovely clear night and I decided we would stay the night in the
cave.  The fire was keeping us warm and I didn't want to make
the long walk back to the car in the dark.

	Besides, I had more thinking to do.

	How did I feel about Rose after she had manipulated me into
this?  Did I still love her?  I pondered the problem carefully
and realized that not only did I love her as much as ever, but I
was about to blow that love by trying to blame her for what I
had done with my girls.

	Yes, she had let me do it but the fact remained that it wasn't
Rose who had fucked my daughters.  I had done that and I hadn't
been forced into it.  I could have said no and stuck to it, but
in fact I had wanted it.  Rose had tempted me by placing my
daughters at my disposal for sex, but she allowed me the choice.

	Mind you, she had made it an easy progression in depravity for
me.  If, six months ago, she had suggested that I fuck Crystal
my concern for her age would have stopped me cold.  By giving me
Ashley first (her big tits and wide hips had negated any "little
girl" in my thoughts of Ashley) she had conditioned me to accept
fucking my daughters so that it was almost a natural next step
to do Crystal.

	I did love Rose and I wanted her to know.  Thank God for cell
phones.

	I called home and she answered.  "Well, how long does it take
to fuck a ten-year-old anyway?" she chided me gently.

	"That depends on often you do it," I replied.

	"So I take it my little baby girl is now full of her daddy's
cum."

	I looked down where my cum was dripping from our sleeping
daughter's pussy.  "Well, some is leaking out, but, yeah."

	"Like they say in the song," I continued, "I just called to say
I love you.  And to say that I will never be able to thank you
enough for the girls.  You sure can pick them."

	"I don't pick them," she said, "I make them in my belly and I
only wish I could make more for you."

	"Speaking of which," I said, "I know something you don't know. 
I can't wait to fill you in tomorrow."

	Our perverted love talk went on for a few more minutes, then I
down by Crystal and fell into a very satisfied sleep.

	We got home in time for lunch, but as soon as we came through
the door Rose grabbed me and headed for the bedroom.  When I
told her that Crystal was already having periods and might well
have been ovulating last night, Rose went wild.  It was three
hours later that she finally let me out of bed.  I sure hoped
the girls had found something to eat.

	Well, it was a good thing that Crystal didn't get pregnant just
then.  I had a plan for dealing with the Ashley situation, but I
doubted I could stretch it to cover two daughters at once. 

	Many people in our community knew of Rose's wish for more
children.  While Ashley was "at school in France" a private
adoption would be arranged.  I still had my contacts in the
underground and the necessary documents had already been
prepared.  And so I legally adopted my own son.

	Richard was born without complications with his "grandfather"
in attendance.  Ashley and Richard spent six months in our
Oregon hideaway because we wanted to give Ashley time to bond
with her son and to nurse him.

	Him and his father.  I had loved Roses milk, but truthfully
Ashley was even sweeter.  She would sometimes giggle while I
sucked one tit and Richard sucked the other.  "Just think", she
said, "I've only got two tits, but I'm nursing my father, my
uncle, my brother and my son all at the same time."

	That girl was almost as kinky as her mother.  But it was an
arousing thought.

	In the meantime, Crystal had become a regular part of my sex
life.  While she was four years younger than Ashley, she was
much hotter.  With Ashley, except when she had been pregnant, we
had fucked two or three times a week.

	Crystal wanted it at least once a day, and would have shoved
Rose out of my bed if I had let her.  It was probably the only
time I was harsh with Crystal, but I had to make a few things
clear to her.

	"Listen to me, Crys, and hear me good.  I love your mother in a
way you won't understand until you find the man you want to
spend you whole life with.  And that isn't me.  I'm not
available on a full time basis.  

	"I will fuck you anytime you want, unless your mother wants me
first.  Then you will just have to wait until she is happy.

	"Anytime you think you want to make it a you or her issue,
understand that I will choose her in an instant.  I like having
you both, but if comes down to a choice, I chose my wife."

	Eventually she saw that I meant it and we settled down to a
happy foursome.

	Three years later Crystal "went to school in France" and Rose
and I adopted another child.  A little girl this time.

	Of course Crystal nursed her little girl.  Her breasts hadn't
actually grown that much, but her milk was the sweetest I've yet
tasted.

	A couple of years after that Ashley met her dream man at last. 
They were married on her twentieth birthday and my new
son-in-law surprised me when he shook my hand after the
ceremony.  "I just wanted to thank you for all you taught Ash. 
She's wearing me out, but I'll die a happy man."

	I must remember to discuss discretion with the girls.

	Crystal still lives with us, but she has begun to show a
definite interest in one of her college professors.  She says he
reminds her of me.  Oh, well.

	At nine Joanne (don't tell Rose, but I named her for a cousin I
had a crush on when I was five) is now the light of my life. 
Yesterday she came into the den.  "Daddy," she said, "I heard
Grandma and Mommy talking about you and me going to the beach
soon.  What did they mean?"

	Well I have a surprise for that perverted pair. There is no way
in hell that I'm taking Joanne down to the beach.

	She has always loved the redwoods and I know a lovely, lonely
hiking trail that leads to a fairytale waterfall.  



The End.



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