Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, BiSexual, Cheating, Incest, Mother, Son, Brother, Sister, Rough, Group Sex, Harem, Orgy, Polygamy/Polyamory, Analingus, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Squirting, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Nudism,
Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Harry Walsh can't seem to stop his mother from tagging along on his dates. Her motives are pure, right? Well, I suppose that depends on your definition of purity and love.
“Mom, you’ve gotta be joking with me!” I laughed as I heard my mother, all of thirty-seven years of age, speak to me of going along with me on my dates.
“Nope, dead serious! I have my reasons,” Mom assured me, “You’re just nineteen, okay? I know that you’re an adult, but I have to look out for my son. I have to know what kind of girl you’re dating and what is she really about? I have to be able to look into her eyes and find out what she wants out of you. Sorry, but it’s a ‘Mama Bear’ thing. I have to look out for my cubs.”
“Mom, you have two ‘cubs, ‘ as you put it. Tricia and me. Do you plan to attend dates with her, too?” I asked, thinking that I already knew the answer to that query.
I was so fucking wrong!
“Yes, I do. My kids deserve a third party present to protect their best interests. That’s me. I don’t have a husband. I have only the occasional boyfriend and none of them matter enough to care if they like or dislike the idea. They’re placeholders, really, nothing more than that. Granted, they’re a step up from fuckbuddies, but only that. Don’t give me that look, Harry! We’re both adults! You’ve heard and used profanity before!” Mom turned on me.
“If we’re both adults, treat me like one!” I stormed off, not intending to continue this conversation ... it was outrageous to even consider this ... this was one step from arranged marriages to have my own mother try to veto girls that she didn’t like.
“Harry, don’t take the huff!” Mom tried to chase me down, and the only reason that I let her was that she would be waiting for me at home, anyway, “Look, son, I know that this sounds crazy, and in the end, if you like a girl that I dislike, I promise to give her a chance. I won’t like it, but I will give her a shot. I’m not trying to run your life. I’m not trying to keep you from getting laid, either. I know that’s what guys and girls your age, or any age, want half the time, and that’s perfectly natural and healthy. I just want to look out for your interests.”
“As you see them, Mom, and the answer is still no! I love you, Mom, I understand why you’re doing this, but I will not be sitting there like some pathetic wimp, still tied to the apron strings and leaving my dates all but convinced that I’ll never be a man. This is just ridiculous!” I stubbornly asserted.
Mom fought back tears, gulped, and then shrugged, “Okay, but don’t say that I didn’t try to help out. If you change your mind, let me know.”
“Mom, please, don’t play the martyr! I mean, hell, I’ve dated for years, including while I was a minor, and this last year in the Army before I got shot up and discharged! I mean, seriously, Mom! Some fucking Taliban tried to kill me and you’re worried that some queen bee bitch is going to break my heart? A little heartache is nowhere close to losing your spleen because of a bullet, trust me! Mom, I love you, but this is one time that you’re just plain wrong!” I hugged Mom and gave her a loving kiss before I walked away this time.
I should have known that this wasn’t the end of it, of course. I mean, Jesus, one lesson that the military and everyone in history always taught one was: know your adversary. Well, Mom was no enemy in the conventional sense. I loved her to pieces and thought that she was still the most charming and beautiful creature on Earth. She wasn’t even normally this pushy or overbearing, which was what made this recent turn of events extremely disturbing and alarming to me. Was she suffering empty nest syndrome, what with Tricia and me both out of the house? Speaking of Tricia, what role did she have in things? I was about to find out, as it happened.
My next attempt to date, emphasis on attempt, given how things turned out, was the following Friday night, after I got off work from the bookstore and picked up Callie Wade from her father’s house. Her father, of course, didn’t like me anymore than it turned out that Mom liked Callie, but I’m getting ahead of myself here. I met Callie outside her house, after only a thirty minute wait (trust me, I’ve waited longer with previous girls, and Mom was stunned that it took her so little time), though I was still left wondering yet again why we mere mortals bothered with such outmoded rituals as trying to buy another person supper while she sat there and lied to you the whole time. If I wanted to hear lies, I could listen to my Uncle Garth for that (though he wasn’t nearly as pretty as Callie Wade) free of charge. What use was dating, anyway?
I had read memes on social media lately, bemoaning the end of dating, or “real dating,” as some called it. When did this end, because in my neck of the woods, it hadn’t ended at all, and it was usually bullshit. I only tolerated it because, short of packing up and leaving everyone and everything behind, there were few other options in terms of meeting potential partners. I simply made good use of the time by trying to catch the dates in potential lies, traps, ambushes, or whatever, which was another reason that I didn’t need Mom tagging along.
I knew what I wanted to stop and prevent, but did she? Why would need her present to protect my interests, when I was already more aware of things than my idiot buddies, who often fell for the women’s bullshit, hook, line, and sinker? What if she sabotaged my program and sided with a girl that I had caught in a lie? She was a wild card and I didn’t need that when I already had my ace in the hole.
On a more positive note, living in this part of Virginia, which was an independent city and a college town, it still wasn’t as expensive as living in Richmond or some shit like that. You could take the girl out for a reasonably priced buffet if you knew where to go, and the good thing about buffets, you already knew the cost ahead of time and if you could afford to pay for two meals. It was also a test, of course, as to whether or not the girl appreciated frugality or would whine about my “cheapskate” ways. A sensible girl would know a bargain, while a prima donna would gripe, bitch, and nag about wanting to go to a “nicer place.” I mean, seriously, this is the 21st century and you’re supposed to be equal to us now, so you’re lucky that I’m paying for your damn supper in the first place!
“So, this place, it’s a buffet? Why not have someone bring you the supper? It costs more, but you get service,” Callie started to wave red flags at me right away, of course.
“That ‘service’ costs me an arm and a leg, at least in many of your finer restaurants. No thanks. I have two feet. I can still carry my own damn plates to my table. When you’re actually paying for the fucking meal, you notice shit like that,” I popped off, deliberately using profanity to goad her if she could be goaded.
“That’s a bit harsh, and do you have to use such language? My father’s a minister, you know,” Callie protested as we arrived at the place, and yes, I still opened the truck cab door for her (damn those ingrained habits ... chivalry can kiss my ass!).
“Didn’t stop you from sucking Walter Smith’s cock last month, and before you deny it, he’s got fucking proof on his Instagram, or he did before they banned his ass! It’s not a still, either. I know that those can be photoshopped. Oh, no, that sucker took revenge porn and put it on steroids by recording you just in case and you could clearly see the mole above your upper lip as you’re gulping down his jizz! How is it that you worry about profanity when you’re no maiden?” I smirked as we entered the restaurant, my amusement growing as Callie acted very shocked and offended by my claim.
“Look, I have to give head in order to save my purity. Guys need action, but I can’t put out, so this is a compromise, that’s all,” Callie asserted, blushing distinctly on her milky white face, “I’ll give you the same thing, but only on the third date.”
“Right now, honey, I’m not too sure that there will be a second date, let alone a third date. Just letting you know that upfront. I’m a very astute and observant man, and so far, you’ve underwhelmed me a bit. Besides, I know for a fact that Chad Cummings got a handjob on the first date, got a blowjob on the second, and Walter Smith went all the way on his third. The blowjob was just the first date, and you had little else to do by the way, to string it out, because you were so starstruck by having a local bigwig that you had to whore yourself out entirely to keep his interest. I’m not judging you, though. Just calling a spade a spade. You went after him for his money. That’s prostitution, any way you slice it, including with a mouthful of wedding cake.
“You’re no damn virgin! Not that I care, except that I really don’t like liars, and so far, that’s what you are to me. The only reason that you’re on this date with me is that Walter stood you up last week and you’re trying to make him jealous. Besides, Walter is eight years your senior and divorced, so how does that fit in with your Christianity, anyway? You did know that he was married before, right? Has two rugrats, except that they’re now kindergartners, twin sons named Junior and Jerry Smith by his ex-wife, Allison?
“I’m not judging, but I’m no preacher’s kid. At least not now that my father is a disgraced radio evangelist who has spent the past twelve years in the slammer. He kinda got defrocked for that business, as it happens. If I have learned anything about religion, missy, it’s that George Carlin was right. It’s bullshit, the biggest con game ever played on the human race. Small wonder that Mom divorced his ass and never looked back.
“He was a pig, anyway. What else do you call a man who wouldn’t hire the best producer available because he was a, well, I’m not a racist, so I won’t repeat the word that dear old Dad used, but it starts with an ‘n’ and rhymes with ‘digger, ‘ Miss Priss,” I chuckled as I paid the tab for both of our suppers, though I was all ready to cut my losses, not buying into the “sunk cost” fallacy.
“He said worse things than that,” I heard a voice behind us say, and I turned around to find Mom standing there with a very wicked gleam in her eye.
“Mom? I thought that we discussed this! I’m a grown man, a combat veteran, and you still think that you need to chaperone my dates? Are you afraid that I’ll get laid, because I’m fairly sure that wasn’t going to happen already, and it certainly won’t happen now. I only agreed to this date because I thought it amusing to see what bullshit Callie would try and also find out if I could somehow get at least some booty from the whole deal! That’s off for sure!” I exclaimed, making Callie blush a bit, but to my shock, she took my hand and tried to drag me to our seat.
Mom laughed, and then paid for her own meal before rushing to sit next to me in the booth. When I got up to grab my plate and fill it, she followed me, while Callie stayed behind and started texting on her cell phone. No doubt, she was broadcasting my shame as being a “Mama’s Boy,” of course. I was flustered, but I tried to be civil to Mom, even gracious, as I selected my rather seafood-oriented platter. I had plenty of crab cakes, fried pollock, and shrimp scampi to satiate me at least, and Fridays were the Seafood Special nights, anyway. It was one of my favorite times to eat at Morgan’s Buffet, as it happened. I didn’t honestly if I was hungrier or angrier right then.
“There’s clam chowder over there, honey, if you’re really in a seafood mood,” Mom observed, which was actually helpful, because the soups weren’t always consistent.
“Thanks, Mom. Look, I suppose that this night isn’t going to be a complete disaster because of you, because it already wasn’t going well to begin with, trust me. It’s just that I thought that we had an understanding. Look, I can meet you halfway, if you wish. I can put up a date report, if you want to see that, and then analyze what you like. There’s no need to attend every single date with me and meet the girl right there, is there? I mean, I wouldn’t go attending your dates with your boyfriends, after all, and given some of your guys, I’ve wanted to at times, just to keep their grubby hands off you. I don’t know what you see in those men, but it doesn’t speak well to judgment, does it?” I observed, even as I took Mom’s advice, to her amusement.
“Honey, my judgment is only bad when it comes to me. I’ll concede that it often sucks when dealing with my own situation. Trust me, I’ve kicked myself plenty of times, though to be blunt, it was never as bad with any of them as with your father. It was God awful with him! I lost any faith that I still had while married to that man! I hate to put down your father, but let’s be candid here with each other. We’re both adults, as we’ve agreed.
“The man was a rat and he deserved everything that has come to him lately. You know what sort of man your father was and what kind he wasn’t. He was a regular dick, plain and simple! Those years with him were the worst seven years of my life!” Mom said openly at last what I had known for years: Dad was a class A jerk.
“Is that why you haven’t remarried? You don’t trust yourself not to get stuck with another Dad? Or was it something else?” I asked Mom directly, and her answer staggered me.
“No, I didn’t remarry because I waited for the right man. Not to come along. To grow up. And now he has. You want to know the honest truth about why I’m tagging along? Well, I’ll tell you now, while that bitch that you call your date is STILL, mind you, on her damn cell phone, probably sexting to every Tom, Dick, and Harry while she’s going out with you. Oh, yes, sweetheart, I know all about what sexting is. I teach high school English, or did you forget?” Mom leaned into whisper, “I’m here for the same reason that I haven’t remarried. I’m going to seduce you.”
I nearly dropped my plate when I heard that, especially since Mom had “accidentally” brushed her nice booty against my groin for a second or two to prove that she wasn’t kidding. Mom wasn’t there to just size up the other women. She was there to defeat them and she wasn’t taking any prisoners! No wonder she had been so insistent on going along on my dates! She was out to steal me or whatever away from these girls closer to my own age. Now, that, my friends, was a motive for sure! As I stood there in shock, wondering what the fuck was going on with my life now, Mom gathered her food and headed to the booth. I bit the bullet and sat next to her, facing Callie and waiting for the bitch to stop texting.
It was a long wait, and that was before Callie even stood up to grab her own food, which left plenty of time for Mom to do devilish little things, such as slip her hands into my pants under the table and play footsie with me. I was soon hard as steel, and it wasn’t mostly due to my date. My own mother used every trick in the book to arouse me and it worked like a charm! I was horny as hell and I wondered how I would get myself out of this weird predicament, especially once Callie returned and Mom stood to shake her hand.
“So, I’m Valerie Walsh. You must be Callie Wade, right? Harry’s my son and, just for the record, this was my idea. He resisted it, I pretended to agree with him, and I trailed him here to interview you. That is to say, I’m just here to record your actions and words, to help determine what kind of woman is interested in my son. He is not on board with this. It wasn’t his plan. This is all my doing, so blame me, not him. You’ve heard of ombudsmen? I’m an ombudswoman for my kids, looking for their interests.
“Look, I’ll be frank here. You’ve got a steep, uphill climb with me. Nearly all mothers think that no woman is good enough for their son as it is, and with me, that’s doubly so. Did you know that my son got a Purple Heart for getting wounded in combat, serving his country while the rest of us stayed home and enjoyed the benefits of the very freedom that he defended? He was only in the Army for a very short time, just out of tech school, in fact, when they shipped him to Afghanistan and the Taliban shot him up. He lost his spleen due to the bullet that the Taliban rebel fired at him.
“I’m saying this to tell you, my son is my prince, he’s my golden boy, and I do think that the sun, moon, and stars rotate around him and shoot out of his ass! I have spent years, not always giving him the right lessons, but always trying to, anyway. I have spent countless hours teaching him how to play chess, catch, how to swim, how to drive, how to tie his shoes, how to tie a necktie ... I’ve helped him with homework, bathed him, taught him how to brush his teeth, given him money when he lost his baby teeth, not a lot on a teacher’s salary, mind you, but you get the point. I’ve combed his hair, given him haircuts when we couldn’t afford the barber, and given him the ‘talk, ‘ awkward as it was.
“I did all that for his sister, too, and yes, she’s my princess, and I love her just as much as I love Harry. But she’s not the one on a date tonight, and Harry is. I’ve already seen enough to alarm me, disturb me, definitely concern me, at least, where your own behavior is concerned. To start with, do you always just salads? What are you going to cook, or is Harry going to do all the cooking, because right now, he knows how and from what I’ve seen, you don’t, missy! Do you know how to operate a microwave, an oven, a dishwasher, a front-loader, or a dryer?
“Before you give me that feminist bullshit about this being the 21st century, so therefore men should know that stuff, Harry does know it! I get the impression that you do not! Do you even work? If so, where? Are you in school? Do you have any plans for your life? I’m not talking wealth here. I’m a teacher, so I certainly don’t have millions stashed away, I can assure you of that. Wealth isn’t my barometer, though I get the impression that you feel differently. How long will you be satisfied with a bookstore manager’s salary when you’re wanting that nice new Gucci bag or those designer dresses?
“Harry wants to compromise by having reports made to me, in the interest of giving me the same information without driving girls away. I understand and it’s awkward for him. He’s a grown man and wants to live his own life, and I’m mostly good with that. Mostly. But I know the female of the species. I know what women are like. I know how much they can crush and destroy a man’s spirit, even a strong, smart, brave, independent man like Harry.
“I know the lengths to which women will go to get what we want, how ruthless we can be, and how little we notice warning signs that the endgame is not what it’s made out to be. I want to look the girls in the eye and read their body language, look for signs of sincerity, deception, and everything else. I don’t see how he could possibly read all that without some help from me, not being a woman, after all.
“My son is a good man. Hell, he’s a wonderful man, once you get to know him. I adore him and I frankly don’t see what you have to offer him. So, what is your sales pitch, not just to him, but to me, who can see through your innocent facade and find the she-devil behind your angelic face? I’m an older woman. I know all of your tricks, schemes, and then some! What works on my son doesn’t necessarily work on me. I made him too much a gentleman at times for his own good, but I can make amends by zealously guarding his interests. So, how about it? Fish or cut bait!” Mom went on at length, while Callie ate her salad nervously, growing more flushed every second as she heard my mother’s words of doom.
“Well, Mom, you’ve certainly made your opening statement, haven’t you?” I chuckled, pleased in spite of my misgivings, due to the way that Mom conducted herself ... she had shown a ruthless side that actually made me proud of her.
“Um ... Mrs. Walsh, do you really think that this is appropriate behavior for the mother of any guy, tagging along on his dates, refusing to cut the apron strings, and shamelessly flaunting your unnatural attraction to your own son? I’m fairly young, only eighteen, I know, but I know enough to know that something is wrong here. Something is not quite right. Something about this whole affair stinks. Are you in love with your own son?” Callie confronted Mom directly, and in spite of the shocking query, Mom didn’t even flinch.
“Hell, yes, I am! I love this guy with every part of me and if you can’t deal with that, it’s your loss! I was prepared to share him with you, if you were the smart sort, the right kind of woman, but not now! No, I haven’t slept with him, but I will, honey! Mark my words, I will! With or without you, of course! Sounds like you’ve already chosen without you, so that’s your problem! I wouldn’t waste much more time with her, babe. She’s a hypocrite, a prude, and a slut all rolled into one, and not the best parts, either.
“She’s not worth whatever halfhearted sex act you can finagle from her tonight, I promise you that much! You don’t have to see very far to know what the true love of her life is: the Almighty Dollar. She loves money, status, popularity! She will never love you for yourself. As for inappropriate, missy, let me tell you this! Any woman who gets a free fucking supper from my son and doesn’t have the common decency or courtesy to pay attention to him while they’re eating is not very appropriate or respectful at all in my book!
“You’ve already spent much of the ‘date’ on your cell phone, at best gossiping with your girlfriends or at worst sexting every man in the city but my son! What happened to getting to know him better? I’ve focused far more attention on him this date than you have, missy, and that’s a fact! If this is what ‘dating’ is these days, no wonder guys like Harry are getting tired of it! Would you spend a whole wad of cash for a free dinner for somebody just to get ignored by that very same someone? I thought not! That’s not a sound investment in any book!
“I tell you, missy, you might be disgusted by my incestuous feelings for Harry, but I think that it is you that are the pervert. You’re wasting his time and money on something that clearly doesn’t mean shit to you and probably already planning to someday lace up your boots, Nancy Sinatra-style, to walk all over his ass on your way out the door with another man and half his money! What’s perverse is the Barbie approach to this world, where even Ken is a fucking accessory, and if you don’t like salty language, you shouldn’t hang around a sailor’s daughter!
“So, little missy, do as you wish, but I can promise you this: I will move Heaven and Earth to see to it that you don’t get a second date, let alone an engagement ring or wedding band from my son! So, if you’ll excuse me, my son has blue balls, and if he doesn’t mind, I’m going to suck his cock,” Mom told her as she actually went under the table and unzipped my pants!
“Mrs. Walsh, you have the nerve to lecture me while sucking your own son’s dick? Ugh, that’s just... ,” Callie started to tell Mom off, but the look on her face showed her up for a liar ... she was aroused!
“So, it’s okay to watch and be turned-on by incest, but not to practice it, eh?” I turned the tables on my date yet again, “And while I don’t agree with Mom tagging along, she’s dead right about her points about your own inappropriate conduct. You’ve got your head so far up your own ass that you probably need a ton of mouthwash and your various men on Tinder have no fucking clue that you’re on a date, do you? Or perhaps you were sexting Walter Smith or Chad Cummings for another chance? In any case, what about Mom sucking my cock turns you on so much?”
Callie blushed as I struck yet more nerves, even as Mom really got me closer, my precum now entering her mouth as she sucked my painfully stiff dick with a vengeance. Callie shifted in her seat, squirmed a bit, and then bit her lower lip as she slipped fingers up her own skirt to play with her twat. She didn’t even bother to hide her arousal anymore, as her other head reached under the table to caress Mom’s hair. The next thing that I knew, Callie was heavily engaged in jilling off to the sight of Mom gagging on my cock. When I came too close and warned Mom, she winked at me and so did Callie, as I spurted out repeatedly down Mom’s throat. Mom licked her lips and sat back up, at which I gave her a very amorous, very public French kiss with a serious amount of tongue.
“Oh, fuck, you kissed her after she sucked your dick? Walter and Chad never did that for me! Of course, I wouldn’t kiss them after they ate me out, either, not that either of them was any good at it. I had to fake orgasms to get them to stop wasting my time, and then jilled off in private, with the vibrators that Mom hides from Dad because he thinks that marital aids are unnecessary and masturbation is a sin. He should jerk off more often, really. He’d be less pissed and more relaxed, like Mom and me. Mom just pretends to agree with him and laughs at him behind his back for not seeking relief as she does. Little does she know that I’m using her toys. She’d have a hissy fit if she had a clue.
“Anyway, I know that we hit things off badly and you and I are a horrible fit for a relationship, at least as things stand right now. That being so, there’s no harm in having fun together, is there? You’re right, I was sexting both Chad and Walter, but I haven’t sexted them since your mother started giving you head. That was just too fucking hot to ignore. You’re on my radar now, not as the cheapskate, though that remains an arguable point. No, you’re now a motherfucker and that’s a real turn-on, I confess.
“And your mother, God, she’s like sex on two fucking long legs! It’s a wonder that she doesn’t have more kids! I’d never have the stones to fuck my own mother, and in fact, she’s not all that sexy to begin with, at least not compared to Valerie. So, perhaps we can make a different deal, you, your mother, and me.
“I find incest a serious turn-on, but don’t have anyone to practice it with, you see. My big brother Vince would never even think of me as anything but his annoying little sister with braces, though the braces are long gone, not that he would notice. Oh, and I’d love to commit incest with him, in case you didn’t catch my drift. Same deal with Dad. Dad might be not so handsome, but he’s my father and part of me really wants to drain those blue balls of their deadly semen buildup.
“I doubt that you and I will ever get married or date seriously, so can I be your ... play sister? If it helps, I can function as a booty call for a while, at least, as long as you’re a booty call for me, too. The few times that I’ve had sex outside of marriage have been a little disappointing, but at least I thankfully didn’t marry them first. Fornication might be a sin, but it saved my hide a few times already as it is.
“So, since I don’t pass muster, at least not yet, as a girlfriend, can I at least sleep with you? Are you okay with that? Is your mother, for that matter? Oh, and perhaps your mother and I can even ... what’s the phrase for a lesbian grudge fuck?” Callie propositioned me in a way that stunned both Mom and I.
“So, at this point, all you really want from my son is his body, at least for now? I’m okay with that, missy! I’m more than okay with that. If you want no-strings attached sex with my son, have it, as long he is okay with it. You could probably use some sexual mentoring before a serious relationship, anyway. It sounds as if you don’t yet know enough about sex to really enjoy a man’s body or your own, not like you can. I can open up a whole new world for you, and perhaps in time, you’ll be more suitable for my son, too.
“As for the lesbian stuff, well, between you, me, and my son here, I’ve dined at the Y a time or two, especially of late,” Mom shocked us both with that confession, “To be honest, my favorite sex act of all is giving oral, whether on a woman or on a man. And I can smell the sweet scent of your pussy already, missy.”
“So ... would it be okay if I crashed at your place for a bit, so that I could enjoy your son’s sexual favors and yours more easily without worrying about Dad? I can make up a cover story and all, while I’m pretending to be your lustful daughter and his horny sister. You mentioned kids, plural. Who else is there? A brother? A sister? Are they of age or jailbait?” Callie pushed the envelope a little further, much to my surprise and Mom’s obvious enjoyment.
“Honey, just bring over your sweet ass and what you have on you. We’ll provide what you need for say, the weekend as a start, on the condition that you spend the whole weekend as my son’s sexual plaything ... and mine. And Tricia’s of course. Tricia is already eager to get some booty from Harry and me, so why not you, too? After that, we can look into longer visits as it occurs to you as well as us. So, how about it? Let’s take this home and turn this threesome into a foursome. Tricia’s waiting with legs wide open as it is!” Mom urged us and laughed at the shock on my face.
“Oh, yes, dear. Tricia wants to sleep with you, too. Well, not so much sleep as ride you like a bronco and drain your balls until you can’t walk normally for days. Between you, me, and Callie here, though, she’ll have trouble walking as well. Tricia’s been secretly in love with you for years, it seems. I’d take my vitamins for sure, if I were you. Three women, even with each other for help, are going to need some real satisfaction, baby,” Mom assured me, even as I zipped up my pants and we finished our meal quickly so as to leave for home.
On the whole way home, Mom rode in the cab with us, having taken an Uber to get to the buffet earlier. She made things a lot more fun on the way back to the Walsh house, by using a CD that had her favorite arena rock bands from the 80s. She also made out with Callie right next to me, something obviously motivated by a desire to stimulate a comeback for my already drained cock and balls. We had incredible laughs and Mom also stroked my cock through my pants a few times as I drove, so much that I had to really force myself to focus. Thankfully, Mom caught the hint in time not to make me crash.
When we got home, Tricia met us with French kisses to each of us, including Callie, not bothering to hide her intentions at all. Once we were inside, Tricia bent over a bar stool at the kitchen bar and made it plain what she wanted from me. Her cheerleader skirt was up and her cheeks were spread, too, so it wasn’t long before Mom was behind her as well, her tongue exploring my sister’s butt-crack while I slid my cock into a very wet snatch. It was amazing how easily I went for incest, too, but apparently, it was a family trait to desire such things. Tricia was super horny and definitely into me, so why resist when she was so absolutely hot for me and certainly easy on the eyes?
I had read plenty of stories on various sites, where men and women resisted their incestuous urges for a while, and how the suspense built up, deliberately teasing the readers as the men and women involved incredibly struggled with their consciences before succumbing to lust. That was all well and good for plot development and friction, but I wasn’t so conflicted. I just wasn’t built that way. It must be a family condition, but I never had a strong resistance or internal, moral opposition to such things. I’m not designed to fight my carnal, primal lusts. I’m made to give into them, full force and no stopper. I’m a hedonist and heathen at heart. It just wasn’t and still isn’t in my nature to turn down available pussy and ass, nor more than I would refuse an aged whiskey or a juicy steak.
Nor did I care about age that much. Quite frankly, I enjoyed a MILF or cougar as much as I did a barely legal cutie and vice versa, as Callie presumably realized by now. As long as they weren’t jailbait or older than dirt, age was just a number to me. That was a wide range of womanhood available to me, made easier by my lack of pickiness about weight, too. I could fuck a skinny or plump woman with the same zest, as long as they put their back into it. I wanted a woman to push back at me with her hips and Tricia definitely did that, obviously wanting me with the same enthusiasm as I desired her, if not more. Her pussy was certainly drenched enough to show that same eagerness to fuck me.
As for Callie, well, it didn’t take long for her to begin rimming me, much to my surprise, her tongue dancing a bit as it slid along my crack to worship my ass! She later admitted that rimming a man really turned her on as well, and that she had often watched her parents fuck not only for the voyeuristic pleasure of it, but also to see her father’s booty and imagine rimming him, too. She even confessed to enjoying the taste and smell of a man’s butt, especially the salty sweat. I quickly realized that she had some definite potential as a booty call, though her appeal in girlfriend terms was still weak for now. It wasn’t that I had a double standard: it was that I still feared that she would be a diva and fundamentally selfish in our relationship, if we had one. As a fuckbuddy, though, yes, she had a certain desirability there.
The worshipful looks from Mom as she ate Tricia’s ass didn’t help me resist cumming, nor did Tricia’s soft moans as Mom rimmed her and I plundered her barely legal twat. She had recently moved in with a new boyfriend, but I got the distinct impression that after just six weeks living with him, she was back with us for good. Her pussy was still remarkably tight after being so long with her first and only live-in beau, so I had to wonder what that was about. Still, it could wait until her warm, wet cunt had drained every last drop from my balls through my cock, thank you very much!
That didn’t take much longer, especially once Tricia squirted on me from the impact of both my cock and Mom’s mouth on her bottom half. I noticed that she never had any spankies on under her cheerleader skirt and I couldn’t help but think of those times that she had “accidentally” forgotten those in the past, just to excite and tease me with her pussy and ass. Sure enough, I exploded inside Tricia’s slippery snatch and shot out several spurts before withdrawing to leave a creamy hot mess behind in her twat. Mom and Tricia both rose to kiss me, too, after which Callie immediately went to her knees and started sucking my cock straight from Tricia’s cunt.
“Wow, I dare say that Callie has something in common with Jesse, my boyfriend! She likes sloppy seconds, too! Jesse has had serious hot wife fantasies and it has decreased my attraction to him, though not erased it entirely. He didn’t like that, but he certainly liked it whenever I spoke of fucking you. That was a serious turn-on for him. I don’t mind fucking him, but I’d rather not marry him. He never wanted me to stop fucking him. He was never into the chastity crap. But the idea of creampies, of sloppy seconds, of wife-watching and such ... and especially the idea of incest between you and me. All those things turn him on.
“I fucked a couple of guys for him, but ultimately, we’ve kind of drifted apart since I learned what he wanted from me. It’s a bit much. I don’t mind sharing, but the way that he wants a woman to basically own and control him, yeah, it’s not my thing. Hence why I moved out. He’s a nice, well-established guy with his own place, and I don’t consider him a wimp or anything. I just don’t share his kink of cuckolding and hot wives. I’m more into things like incest, and the more that he talked of me and you, the stronger my old desires for you resurfaced while my love and lust for him shrank a bit,” Tricia revealed part of why she had lately moved out of Jesse’s place and back home with Mom and me.
“Well, see now, that’s why it wouldn’t have worked with Harry and me. I’ve figured it out now, and yes, Daddy’s going to have a conniption fit when he learns of this. I want to be in charge of my main relationship, my primary partner submitting to me and putting me first in his life, ahead of himself, though, of course, I would look after his interests, too. This is not Biblical or Christian at all, of course, but I want to be the dominant partner, to wear the pants in my marriage. I want to be a hot wife, not a submissive one.
“I’ll make you an offer, all three of you, since I’ve just had an epiphany. This Jesse guy seems tailor made for me. This is how it would work. You contact Jesse. Tell him that you’ll keep him as a boyfriend, but you’ve found him a hot wife. Tell him that I’ll move in with him, but that he can keep visiting you now and then, within reason. Now, bear with me, please. I will remain a sexual plaything to all three of you, just so you know. Now, however, he’ll be a plaything as well, but as I direct him. I will be the hot wife of his fantasies, which at my young age will mean years of having his desires appeased, no less.
“The terms of the marriage will be largely dictated by me, but in such a way as to protect him within reason. He will be allowed just four sexual partners: you, Valerie, Harry, and me, of course. Just those four and no one else. I, on the other hand, will be permitted as many as I wish, though I will likely take on just two more, at least for now. Or rather, I’ll keep Chad Cummings and Walter Smith, if they’ll go for it, plus you, Valerie, Harry, and Jesse. I might seduce Allison Smith, too, just for kicks. Only with you three and Jesse, however, will be there any real guarantee of sexual favors, of course.
“I hope that this doesn’t sound too extreme, but that’s what appeals to me. Would you like to keep me as a plaything on that basis? Essentially, I’d take your place as Jesse’s main squeeze, while you and your mother would be, I gather, Harry’s significant others. You’d still be his girlfriend, but not his primary partner. I’d be that, as his fiancee and later his wife, though not much later. Oh, and we’d all honeymoon together. And while there would be a considerable chance that Harry might knock me up, Jesse will never question or test paternity. Oh, and you guys could still sexually mentor me in ways ... and is it okay if I call Valerie ‘Mom’?” Callie announced, much to our surprise, before we all burst out laughing.
“Well, that’s one solution. You still plan to crash here now and then, though, right?” I asked Callie, “I mean, you are starting to grow on me, though it’s clear that someone like Jesse is a much better fit for you.”
“Try and stop me, lover,” Callie winked at me, even as Mom made out with Tricia.