Election Daze

by Mark Gander

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Ma/Ma, Mult, Consensual, Drunk/Drugged, Rape, BiSexual, School, Incest, Mother, Son, Brother, Sister, Group Sex, Orgy, Polygamy/Polyamory, Interracial, Black Female, White Male, White Female, Hispanic Female, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Squirting, Voyeurism, Politics, .

Desc: Incest Sex Story: Samuel Feldman still lives with his mother, who is closer in age due to how young she was when she bore him. However, he's not a loser. He's a history teacher and he has a girlfriend that his mother seems to dislike, as well as a gay ex-boyfriend. Things change on Election Day, starting with a fight with Mom.

It was Election Day, I knew, and quite frankly, I was in no mood to deal with Mom’s crap about politics. She had her politics. I had mine. I was thirty years old now to her forty-three ... Yes, do the math, Mom had me when she was thirteen. I get it, okay! In actuality, Mom and I got along reasonably well most of the time, despite living together here in what had been Grandma’s and Grandpa’s place before their tragic deaths, five and six years ago, respectively. I had a decent job as a schoolteacher, which, while it didn’t pay a huge amount of money, was one that I enjoyed and at least helped pay the bills when combined with Mom’s salary from her receptionist work for a doctor’s office.

Anyway, it was Election Day and Mom was going to head out to vote before work, while my school was closed because it was school was always closed on Election Day and the middle school where I taught was always a polling place. I had, however, volunteered as a poll worker and had been assigned to the very same spot for my duties that same day. So, there we were, eating a breakfast that I had prepared for us (boiled eggs, applesauce, and toast, not really bad breakfast), when Mom began asking me if I planned to vote that day and what my work schedule was.

“Well, actually, I’m a poll worker and I’ve already voted. School’s closed because it’s a polling place, remember?” I observed, putting a bit more salt than Mom would have liked on my eggs (and I know that she noticed, because she gave me a raised eyebrow), “I’m going to work at the polls, go to Sandra’s, and probably watch the results with her over a nice, cold beer and some fajitas.”

“Are you still dating Sandra? Really? What’s with you and her, anyway? I thought that you were gay! Now you’re dating girls again! How does that work, going straight after being gay for a bit? Can you make up your mind which one you are?” Mom shook her head for a bit, “That last boyfriend you had, Ethan, he was kinda cute for a fag. Sorry, no offense, but he was. Think that a cougar like me could turn him?”

“Well, first of all, I’m not gay. I never was. I’ve dated men. I’ve dated women. I’m currently seeing Sandra, who, yes, is a woman the last time I checked. I’m not straight, either. I’m bisexual. Ethan, however, is gay, so I don’t see much chance, though if he had any straight in him, he might go for it. He always liked your fashion sense and your taste in wine. As for the ‘fag’ bit, I must object to that. He’s a good guy. We just couldn’t work it out because I’m bi and there were some other issues. But he’s a good guy overall. You should hang out with him. He works for the Clinton campaign, I believe,” I clarified.

“Ugh, Hillary, and he and I had such promise! Why in God’s name would anyone want to support her over Donald Trump? Is it really just about gay rights for him, because Donald isn’t anti-gay, you know. He’s endorsed by that PayPal guy, who is gay himself. He is supported by the drag queen Caitlyn Jenner, too. Anyway, bisexuality is a myth. People are either gay, straight, or confused. And Donald Trump is going to make our country much nicer, even for your Mexican friends like Sandra who think that he’s the Antichrist or Hitler or something. He’s not out to throw all Mexicans out, just the illegal ones. Those and the Muslim types, you know, the ones that like to behead Americans. Why are they even in America if they hate us so much? They’d behead Ethan, too, given a chance,” Mom rattled on, freshly reminding me that, yes, she was a Republican.

“Mom, Caitlyn Jenner is a lifelong Republican, so, I’m not surprised that she backs Donald Trump. She’s also a transwoman, not a drag queen. She’s a woman, just like you, even if she has a dick and some balls. And she’s rich. Rich people tend to support Republicans for the tax breaks. It’s a rich man’s party, not a party for the working man and woman.

“For the last time, Mom, I’m a Democrat. I voted for Hillary Clinton, and before that, I voted for Bernie Sanders. The Republicans want to do nothing but lay off teachers, force all students into one-room schoolhouses, and cancel sex education. I wish that the Democrats would stand stronger for workers and unions, especially teachers’ unions, of course, but that’s what I believe. Oh, and I’m bisexual myself, so I can personally testify that we do exist.

“Also, most of the Muslims who hate us are over there, not here. The ones fleeing to America don’t like theocracy, ergo why they’re fleeing ISIS! I know plenty of decent Muslims in real life who are nothing like that at all. Hell, a couple of them even drink now and then! Most of them don’t wear the hijab, but one or two do, and one of those two teaches biology, including evolution!

“Oh, and Sandra’s a Puerto Rican. She’s not Mexican. Puerto Ricans have U.S. citizenship from birth. They just don’t pick Presidential electors because Puerto Rico isn’t a state or a special case like DC. I know this stuff. I teach history in middle school. Sandra is a paralegal and makes more money than I do, not that I mind. I do what I like. I like Sandra. She’s cute, she’s funny, she’s nice to people, and she loves the same shows on Netflix that I like. The same kind of games and movies, too. And she’s great in bed,” I added that last part at least somewhat to rattle Mom a bit.

“How nice to know, but did you have to vote for Hillary? I mean, really? And what’s with dating a Latina, anyway? Aren’t there any nice white girls around here that you can date? A friend of mine has a really nice daughter named Ellen, a nice Jewish girl, and I like her despite sharing a name with that silly dyke talk show hostess. It’s easier to deal with you dating guys than dating a Latina, if you think about it. Gay sex doesn’t cause babies and your little sister has given me some grandkids already. I don’t know why you’d want a girl like her, your kids wouldn’t look white and probably wouldn’t behave much in public. Latinos are terrible parents, just give their kids everything that they want! And their music is almost as bad as rap!” Mom ranted a bit while I ate and rolled my eyes.

“Let me guess, I need to meet a nice Jewish girl like Ellen and settle down with her. Why do you even care about that? You haven’t been to temple in over a decade aside from high holy days. Or you’ll settle for just a white girl, but God forbid that I bring home someone who is a minority! Do you even hear yourself, Mom? We Jews were a minority for the longest time in most parts of the world! Look, no, I listened to you once and voted for Romney! I’m not doing that again! Besides, I’ve already voted for Hillary! It’s done and I have to go to work! And, no, I’m not going to dump Sandra, so get used to the idea of grandchildren with brown skin! You know, like Jews have in parts of Israel!” I stormed off to work, letting her clean up the dishes ... I had cooked, after all.

All the way through the voting, I was more than a little distracted by thoughts of my argument with Mom, of course. Mom is a nice enough woman in her own way, but she still has no concept of how lucky she was that Grandma and Grandpa kept a roof over her head so that she could finish school and raise a brat like me for so long. Part of why I supported sex education so much was to keep girls the same age that she was from getting knocked up in circumstances where there were no fine grandparents to step in and help out.

Then, to make things worse, Mom had another baby five years after me, just a month after graduating high school. That was my sister Melinda, mind you. She went to school by correspondence classes and got her degree, anyway, but bye-bye any college fun!

I never found out who my father was, but Grandpa was my true Daddy in every sense that counted, of course. He could be grouchy at times, but he was more than forgiving and caring, especially with Mom. I basically had two mothers, between her and Grandma, of course. I grew up a bit more than Mom perhaps expected, so much so that at times, despite our closeness, I could still surprise her. Serving four years in the Navy, plus doing school while in it, followed by master’s courses that made it easier to teach history, all of that paid off in time, and now I was a tenured (albeit recently) teacher at my middle school.

Anyway, at about noon, it was time for a lunch break, but I didn’t know where I was going to get something for that. That was when Sandra showed up, mail-in ballot in one hand (she kept procrastinating, but luckily, you can turn in your mailed ballots at the polling places where I live) and Arby’s sandwiches with curly fries (and milkshakes) in the other. She wanted to vote, but she also wanted to have a lunch date with me.

“My hero!” I said, while putting the “I Voted” sticker personally on her shirt, and then kissing her sweet lips.

“Was that for voting or for fast food, because I already voted,” one of the voters who just finished up flirted with me, a soccer mom about three years my senior if I had to guess.

“And here’s your sticker! I’m not Madonna, so I won’t offer to bribe voters!” I winked back at the voter, who giggled and showed obvious relief when Sandra didn’t act jealous.

“You know, sooner or later, you’re going to have to tell people that you’re in an open relationship. You’re actually still planning to, you know, take advantage of it, right?” Sandra teased me a little as we ate in the front seat.

“But, of course. Just not on Election Day with a voter,” I winked at her, making her laugh.

“Good, because I still don’t dig monogamy and I would hate to see you miss out on the fun. Part of me wants to see if I can get Ethan to reconcile with you, just to make sure that you get some strange,” Sandra snickered while drinking her milkshake.

“Yeah, so I would have a boyfriend and a girlfriend ... fun times, fun times!” I chuckled and blushed, but my cock stiffened at the idea.

“And him you wouldn’t have to share with me, since he’s gay and all,” Sandra kept up the teasing, “I’d be happy to just watch, wash your dick clean, and ride you like hell when he went home or to sleep.”

“You’re assuming that I’m the Top,” I observed.

“Honey, Ethan is such an obvious power bottom that it’s not even funny! Come on, baby! I think that I could sell him on it!” Sandra licked her lips in obvious anticipation of such a voyeuristic delight.

“Well, since you put it THAT way!” I nodded and grinned, while she stroked my cock in her Jeep.

“Yeah, he likes it, I can see!” my girlfriend alluded to my dick.

“Most women would be threatened by Ethan, even more than by other women,” I noted, winking at her.

“What do I keep telling you, baby? I’m NOT most women!” Sandra reminded me as she rubbed her legs against mine, her pantyhose brushing against the denim of my blue jeans.

Well, that was true enough, of course. Sandra had made it plain that, after the failure of her last marriage due to her own infidelity, she wasn’t about to promise fidelity to anyone ever again. She didn’t mean that she planned to go clubbing and fucking everything in sight, but she wasn’t going to limit her options, as she put it.

“For one thing, if I ever run into Huma Abedin and she hits on me, I’m so going down on her!” she alluded to Hillary’s notorious aide, who was also Anthony Weiner’s estranged wife.

“What if she wanted to go down on you? You have a very nice, sweet ass, you know!” I remarked.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, at least with a chunky chica like me!” Sandra referred to her own plump, but still luscious body.

“Hey, to quote Meghan Trainor, I’m all about that bass, honey! Though, admittedly, I’d do Huma, too, given the chance,” I teased my girlfriend a bit as I took a last bite of the roast beef sandwich.

“Just leave some pussy for me. Maybe some ass, too,” Sandra giggled while finishing her fries, “Admittedly, your cum would enhance the natural flavors already there.”

“Would it? Glad to know that you feel that way,” I raised an eyebrow.

“Papi, someday, you should read my fucking diary! I’m a dirty slut and I own it, baby!” Sandra shook her tits at me.

“I can see that, baby girl! Anyway, I have reason to hope for plenty of action tonight, then?” I asked her.

“Sure ... if Hillary wins, I’ll want to celebrate and if Trump wins, I’ll need some consolation of the horizontal kind. Throw in some booze, some great food, and some Netflix to get politics off the brain for the rest of the night. You get the idea. Or maybe some porn. We’ll see,” Sandra said as she made out with me and we downed our milkshakes completely before tossing the cups.

“That we will, dear. That we will,” I agreed with a kiss to her lips one last time before going back in to carry out my civic duty.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur, one long-ass line of voters coming in to do their civic duty, though more than a few flirted with me in the process. I chuckled and took note, especially the couple of mothers whose kids were in my classes and seemed to want to meet me again at the next PTA. Both of them were closer to Mom’s age than mine, but they were still rather cute, sexy even. I told myself to keep them in mind, just in case I wanted to get up close and personal with them later. Cougars had a lot to offer a guy, after all.

After the polls closed, which was later than planned, due to the sheer turnout, I got in my Ranger and went straight to Sandra’s, though I sent a quick text to Mom before pulling out of the parking lot. This was to remind my sweet mother that I had plans with Sandra tonight. Little did I know what awaited me, as I walked into my girlfriend’s apartment that evening, to be greeted by a woman who was clearly a bit alarmed, as was our other companion, Ethan.

“I went ahead and called him up. He’s been glued to the TV like he’s in a trance. Honey, it’s some crazy shit going on now! Several states are still too close to call, mostly ones that Clinton should have won easily, and Florida keeps flipping back and forth between them. Trump is doing a lot better than expected in Pennsylvania, too. The only upside is that Clinton is doing much better than usual in Texas. If she can cause an upset there, probably due to Latino votes, she might still pull off a victory,” Sandra reassured herself as much as she did Ethan and me.

“One can only hope. I voted for Bernie for reasons much like this, fears along these very lines, that the Rust Belt states might go for Trump. Fucking DNC and their manipulation of the primary! If Hillary had won straight up without intervention, the party could have rallied behind her much more easily, but between how the primaries and convention went, plus the latest Wikileaks mess and the whole Comey letter affair, we’d have been better off with Bernie. Damn it, we’re so close to making history, a serious stateswoman as the first female President, and the DNC put that at risk with their damn rigging!” I reached out to kiss Sandra, even as I took Ethan in my arms for a hug that he badly needed.

“Let’s order some pizza! I don’t think that anyone’s going to be up to cooking tonight! Beer and elections, what a combo!” I shook my head.

That was when, just before Sandra could call, thus heading me off so that she could pay (I knew how she was, that clever girl), the doorbell rang and Mom walked in on us. She had the strangest look on her face, looking at me, then Sandra, and then Ethan, as if honestly trying to figure this out.

“Is this ... one of those ... poly whatever things?” Mom asked me bluntly, “You know, with orgies and all that jazz?”

“Sure, Mom, you know us. We put the ‘party’ in Democratic Party. All liberals chant, smoke weed, hold orgies, and eat vegan food while watching TV 24/7!” I chuckled sarcastically, “Actually, part of why Ethan and I broke up was that he was a bit jealous and couldn’t quite do the whole poly thing with me. Which I can understand if it’s not for him. But it does mean that he’s not planning an orgy right now, I dare say, if that gives you any relief.”

“Speak for yourself, buddy,” Ethan said from behind me, “I’ve been talking to Sandra and I’ve reached a sort of ... deal ... with her. She can explain it better, perhaps.”

“Yes, that was sort of before his whole trance thing, which he thankfully seems to have left. I think that your presence has comforted him a bit. Which is another good reason for a menage a trois, don’t you think? Why do you think that he’s not at party HQ right now? He was there, but he wanted to watch what he hoped would be great results with you and me! So, yeah, at least the three of us, with the stipulation that none of us have to be faithful. You’d have two open relationships at once and Ethan could be my roommate. Oh, and I lined him up a job now that the campaign is over. I hope that you don’t mind, since we could use the money. So, ready to move in with me ... with us?” Sandra encouraged me.

“And what am I, chopped liver? Sam’s income, while not overly large, helps us pay the bills, groceries, especially. If you three could have your ... arrangement and Sam still live with me, would you consider moving in with us? What do you say, or would living with a Republican be too much?” Mom spoke up now.

“I’m okay with that on a few conditions. One, you don’t treat Sam as if he’s thirteen. He’s thirty, okay? Two, I get to use the kitchen to cook now and then. Three, you admit the truth, ma’am. You keep pulling Sam back from leaving for the same reason that you haven’t dated in a while. You’re in love with your own son! Be honest about that. Tell the truth and shame the devil! It doesn’t just have to be three of us together. It can be four. Face it, subconsciously, you don’t want to cut the apron strings, because they’re attached to a man that you adore ... and are trying to get the courage to seduce!” Sandra shocked us all with that assertion and I expected Mom to slap her, but instead, Mom nodded her head and started crying.

Sandra actually cradled Mom’s head against her ample bosom and rocked her a little bit, as Mom let out a weeping, sobbing confession of her love for me, and how the unusual closeness in age made it seem more acceptable. The biggest shock, however, was when Mom admitted that she had craved me since my teens, had wanted me to take her, and most surprising of all, that Uncle Noah was my real father! He had been only fourteen to Mom’s twelve when they got it on, and frankly, that seemed a bit young to me, but since he was so young, too, they didn’t want to hold him responsible for my welfare. Grandma and Grandpa had formally adopted me, but let Mom stay at home and raise me anyway, just to let my uncle/father off the hook!

“We broke off the affair for a while, until Mom and Dad could turn their backs again, and then we resumed it while your father was in college. He had girlfriends come and go, but I was always there for him as a sort of sister-with-benefits. We didn’t break it off for good until he married and moved away, I think for fear of losing his new bride due to his inability to keep his hands off me for long. Well, that and his guilt at not being there for his own son, his firstborn, not to mention the fact that the first few times were essentially rape. Anyway, the adoption made it possible for you to be taken to temple, otherwise you’d be a mamzer for sure,” Mom confessed to me at last.

“Anyway, I ... I ... I’ve wanted to keep you around so that when I got the nerve to finally seduce you, it would be for keeps! It started when you were sixteen and you came home from some kind of sport, I forgot which one, and I saw you changing for the shower, as you forgot to lock the door. Mom and Dad were on some retreat, and so they weren’t able to stop me from spying on your naked body, at first from sheer curiosity. What I saw ... even fourteen years later, it still drives me wild and keeps the boyfriends from lasting too long. I think that our relationship always raised some red flags for them, so they never stuck around for long after meeting you,” Mom explained to me now.

“What was it, Mom?” I asked her, unsure of what about me would draw her.

“Oh, God, even then, you had so much hair on you, so like a grown man’s body. The beard, the body hair, the thick, circumcised cock! I had never imagined being attracted to my own son, but then I had already committed incest with my own brother, so in for a penny, in for a pound, right? So ... how about it, son? Want to add Mommy to your harem? I’ll share, if that’s what I got to do to keep you. I shared my brother with his girlfriends ... Hell, I cheated on all of my boyfriends with him for years! I think that they figured that something was off eventually, and that’s why they kept dumping me! Mom and Dad suspected, but could never prove a thing,” Mom pleaded with me, much to my shock.

“Hey, I already liked your tastes in other things, but I love your taste in men, Ms. Feldman! I love how manly and hairy Sam is, too! It’s a huge part of the attraction for me!” Ethan admitted to Mom as he embraced both of us and Sandra joined in a group hug of sorts.

“So, before I order the pizza, and believe me, I will, are we agreed, then? A four-way relationship, with me, you, Ethan, and your mother? Don’t worry, I won’t get jealous of others. Will you, Mom?” Sandra encouraged her.

“It’s a deal! I accept all of it. Now, will you three please move in with me, and incidentally, can you order the damn pizza already? I like BBQ chicken myself. What about you?” Mom agreed as she kissed me on the mouth.

“Hell, yeah! Pepperoni for me!” Sandra said as she brushed against me on the way to the phone to order the delivery.

“Sausage!” Ethan laughed.

“I kinda guessed that! Those all sound good to me!” I teased him a bit, just as a news report came in that Clinton had taken Virginia, which gave me a brief boost in mood, in addition to the prospect of three lovers, one of them my own mother.

Mom noted my improved attitude ... and my boner. It wasn’t seconds before she had my pants down to my ankles, as she knelt to pop my cock into her hungry mouth. I found myself unsteady on my feet, even as Ethan helped guide Mom in sucking my dick. The next thing that I knew, my prick was halfway down Mom’s throat, making her gag, but also making her noticeably wet. She later admitted that the smell of my pubic hair turned her on especially.

It wasn’t much longer and I was balls deep inside my own mother, fucking her over one of Sandra’s ottomans, while Sandra wrapped up her phone call and walked over to fondle my buns while I screwed Mom in front of her. Mom was bent over and I slammed her good and hard from behind, much to her delight. It was not the kind of romantic lovemaking that I would give her later, but it was definitely a great experience, even as Ethan began sucking my balls and licking my taint during the act. Sandra was busy rimming me while I pounded Mom good and rough at last, releasing so many sexual tensions that badly needed gone.

“I have to confess something else! I didn’t vote for Trump after all. The whole time I planned to do it. I’ve only voted Democratic one other time, in 2000, because Gore had Lieberman on the ticket and I wanted one of the Faith in the Vice Presidency to keep the White House friendly to Israel. I was all set to vote for Donald Trump, but I got into the voting booth and I just couldn’t let my son down. I couldn’t bear to think of the sadness and disappointment on your face if Trump won and I helped him get elected.

“Plus, you are a history teacher and some nagging part of me wondered if maybe you knew something that I had overlooked. So, I bit the bullet and crossed the line for Hillary Clinton instead. Oh, my, God, I’m a lifelong Republican and I voted for a Democrat! Don’t get too excited. I still voted Republican for Congress, just to be safe!” Mom told me on about the fifth stroke, making me shoot my load deep inside her twat with my excitement.

“Baby steps, Mom. Baby steps. This one had more meaning than you can guess. Not only did you vote to keep out of office the least qualified candidate in American history, but you also voted to put in the first woman President. If she wins, you’ll have made history. Trust me, we history teachers do know a thing or two about that kind of thing,” I teased Mom as I kissed her sweet lips after pulling out of her cunt.

“And you voted to keep out that fucking closet case Pence, who hates himself as much as he hates us,” Ethan added with a grin, just as the doorbell rang.

Thankfully, Sandra still had her clothes on for the moment, though the pizza delivery girl had eyes as wide as saucers when she saw my cock. I could have sworn that she audibly sighed and visibly licked her lips, too, before breaking her stare and coughing to take the money and leave the pizza behind.

“Here’s your tip, too,” Sandra told her, winking at her, “What’s your name?”

“Carly Rumford,” the young woman answered, “He’s ... your boyfriend? Or hers?”

“Ours,” Mom spoke, winking at her.

“Please, can I ... can I have a taste? I just want to suck his cock, pretty please?” Carly begged them.

“Ask him. It’s his dick,” Ethan pointed out.

“Exactly, what he said,” Sandra agreed.

“Can I?” Carly pleaded with me.

“May I, you mean,” the teacher in me took over.

“Yes, I mean, may I, please?” Carly pleaded, her big, brown eyes looking lovely against her ebony skin.

“Hell, yeah!” I told her, letting her go down on me and lick my mother’s juices off my cock.

“Yummy! I’ll be sure to come back some time, sir,” Carly winked at me before taking the money and going away.

That was right before we got the series of bad news that really hit us hard. First, the networks called Ohio and North Carolina for Trump, followed not much later by Florida going his way, all but blocking any realistic chance for Hillary to make a comeback. We were looking at four fucking years of a tax cheat, rapist, and racist demagogue holding the nuclear launch codes and I was personally hoping that the imminent Apocalypse wouldn’t simply be the end of all life on Earth.

By now, both Ethan and Sandra really needed comfort, as did Mom when she realized that her wonderful gesture hadn’t stopped the outcome that I had feared. It wasn’t her fault, far from it, considering that she went against her usual party affiliation to vote for a candidate that I preferred, but she still felt awful about it. I knew that I needed some solace as well, and so the pizza and booze quickly took on a form of comfort sure to get us stuffed and drunk.

What started with beer from mine and Sandra’s end, wine from Ethan and Mom’s, quickly turned into the harder stuff, mostly gin, and the rest of the night soon became a haze. We lost track of the election news, already aware of the imminent catastrophe of a future Trump Administration abetted by a Republican House and Senate, and we simply became a tangle of sweaty, drunk, and horny bodies. Fuck protection ... I lost count of how many times I was inside each of them before I fell asleep.

It was the phone that woke me, ten minutes late already to work. I was thankful for tenure right then, for sure, but thankfully, I only missed homeroom, which was mildly forgivable in the context of a crazy election that produced plenty of hangovers in drunk and depressed educators. After all, a man whose buddies often talked of eliminating the Department of Education was going to take over the country ... What teacher wouldn’t be upset?

Since I was already going to be late, I took a quick shower to get the smell of the previous night’s drunken orgy off me, not that I minded orgies, but this one I couldn’t even recall. I certainly didn’t want to go to work smelling of sex, not in middle school where possibly some of the students were aware of what the scent meant. I downed a couple of energy drinks and plenty of ice water, too, to stay awake, and I even ate some of last night’s pizza at the desk while I gave a convenient pop quiz on history (the little turkeys needed to test their knowledge, anyway, given how pig-ignorant and misinformed social media and pop culture kept them).

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