Copyright© 2012 by Just Anybody
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Mark sees a family move in across the street. Within days he reluctantly agrees to "babysit" the two teen aged children while Mom goes on a business trip. It very quickly becomes Sex Ed 101 and when Mom returns, she gets the full treatment as well.
I had watched them move in, from the window of my kitchen one Saturday afternoon, a mother and her two young children. No father figure present, although there were several men helping her with her furniture, all of them accounted for by accompanying women. It required most of the afternoon and several trips with their rented van truck. I actually thought about walking over to offer my assistance as well, but opted to remain in my home once I counted the number of helpers already involved. They did not need another body to have to work around. The men were doing the lifting and carrying, the women directing traffic and organizing the unpacking as it developed. By dinner time, the helpers had piled back into their cars, one of them being so kind as to drive the rental truck back to its source leaving mom and the kids to fend for themselves with the remains of unpacking and the mess of the day. Thirty minutes later it was obvious that mom had called a break as the pizza delivery guy arrived. Sitting at a kitchen style table still waiting to make its entrance into the house, I could see that whoever had ordered the pizza had forgotten about ordering the soda too. I quickly grabbed a small cooler that I take with me when I go to play golf, loaded several cans of soda and half dozen beers into it and walked across the street to introduce myself.
"Hi. I'm Mark. I live in that brown house across the street. Looks like you could use something to wash that pizza down." I placed the cooler on the table in front of them. "Don't be shy, have a can of soda or a beer. I brought them for you."
The boy quickly shot his hand out for the cooler and saw his mother glare at him. Just as quickly, he gently pushed it back to the middle, then offered it first to his sister, then his mother, and finally to me. When we had each taken a can, he pulled it back and paused, considering if he should even think about taking a beer or should he play it safe and just take the soda. Opting for the soda, he saw that his mother smiled and he knew that he had made the correct selection.
"Hi. Thank you for bringing the drinks. I forgot all about ordering anything to drink when I called the pizza place, and it is so terribly hot and dusty today, with everything we've been doing. Oh, and I am rambling. I'm sorry. I'm Ruth Larson and these are my children, Joan and John."
"I think you deserve a break. You have all been working non-stop since the first truck arrived. It's not going to rain tonight. Whatever remains out here can be moved inside in the morning."
"Yes, we are all very tired. I never realized how much work is involved in moving residences."
I sat with them for some time, answering their questions about the area and about the schools as best I could, considering I had not had any children in the schools. John is fifteen; his sister born just ten months later, just turned fourteen last week. They are both very excited about entering high school in the fall. They were very nearly equally excited about their mother's new job with one of the newest employers in town. "New house, new job, new town--finally it's starting to come together," John said, almost reluctantly but obviously quite thankfully. I didn't pry.
Ruth's new job, it turns out, can best be described as a solver of problems being encountered by customers using the equipment that her employer produced. She tried to explain what the things do, but it was terribly complex, I didn't understand it, and I really didn't care. What I learned was that she made short, unexpected and unplanned trips to a customer's facility when they couldn't resolve whatever problem they were having via the internet or telephone. These were usually one day trips, and in theory, on occasion, overnight, but until now, none had required her continued presence beyond the single day.
I should have suspected something was up one evening several weeks later when Joan sauntered across the street toward me as I was retrieving my mail from the box at the curb.
"Mom wants to know if you'd like to join us for dinner tonight."
I had not begun my dinner preparation as yet, and quickly replied affirmatively.
"Well, great. She said that if you said yes, I was supposed to ask you to bring a bottle of red wine."
I went back to my house, and for whatever reason, grabbed two bottles instead of one, which was a good thing because we finished the first one before we were through with dinner. I was pleasantly surprised at the elaborate dinner, but upon reflection, decided that it is what I should have expected from Ruth -- a phenomenal five course dinner, including a standing rib roast that had to be fifteen pounds at least, and including a desert that was called Bavarian something, a dessert that I could easily enjoy every day for the rest of my life. The Ruth twist? A phenomenal dinner with a last minute invitation. (I doubt if it even occurred to her that I may not be available for dinner this night.)
Later, after the dishes were washed and the kids had retired to their rooms for the night, Ruth and I sat on her porch enjoying the evening and the second bottle of wine. Eventually our conversation turned to the story of her life and what brought her to live across the street from me. It was the same story that had been playing out across the country for years--two young people, madly in love until she becomes pregnant and he departs for less complicated pastures. She had graduated from high school a year early, and had been in her second year of engineering school when she met him. They fell in love and by the end of the year she was carrying his child. He stayed around during her pregnancy, although he hesitated whenever she mentioned the "M" word. When the baby was born, he reacted to the obvious likeness of their appearances and she saw that as a positive sign of a more permanent relationship, but he said goodbye to her when he dropped her off at her apartment, shortly after she told him she was pregnant again. She had not seen nor heard from him again. As expected, she was forced to drop out of school, return to living with her parents and to work menial clerical jobs for years. In what she claimed was a rare moment of good fortune, she learned of a scholarship program which seemed to have been created especially for her.
In her words, "At the ripe old age of thirty two" she returned to college, two children in tow, lived in family housing and finished her degree. Two years later she was officially an engineer, and for the first time in her life, employed at a position that would make good use of her knowledge and education. Pouring herself a full glass of wine, which she immediately consumed, she added, "And it has been an equally long time since I have even sat this close to a man much less..."
I didn't need a written invitation. I moved her around on the sofa, wrapping her in my arms and pulled her up so that I could kiss her. Her lips were soft, moist and opened to me. With my one free hand, I moved it quickly to her chest, lightly dancing my fingers over her blouse. I had barely touched her breast but could feel her nipples hardened beneath the thin cloth. She wore no bra underneath. None was apparently necessary for her breasts were firm. She moaned aloud as I allowed my hand to drift across them and then sat up quickly, breaking my contact with her.
"Not here," she said as she took my hand and headed towards her bedroom. I closed the door behind us and could not help but admire how her breasts pointed upwards like those of a perky teen. There was no sag, no settling into a grapefruit like globe of flesh on her chest. Her breasts were smaller in diameter, certainly not much larger than half of an orange but still probably a generous "B" cup for her frame size. I moved lower on the bed to kiss and suck her nipples, and as my breath blew across her nipples, I saw her body shudder. She helped me remove her shorts and panties and opened her raised legs to my hand. Any further foreplay on my part would have been cruel to her. I could feel the warmth of her crotch before my hand even reached her waist. When I did finally stroke her thigh, she was wet at least three inches from her body.
I was naked within seconds and moved between her legs. As wet as she was and with as much personal lubrication as she was producing, I really thought I would slide right in, but that was not the case. I was forced to take my cock in my hand and hold it in place while I pushed as hard as I could without being reckless. She was wet, oh God yes she was wet, but she was equally tight and equally nervous. Even when I was in school, I could not recall ever having sex with a girl as tight as was this mother of two. I don't know what she was saying to me, it was a blend of moaning, groaning and pleading for me to be careful. Eventually I managed to get my cock fully lodged in her, only to begin to pull it back out. As I began to push in again, she had another orgasm, this time screaming out in pleasure and wrapping her legs tightly around my waist, preventing me from pulling out again. She held me in that position until her motions subsided, but as soon as I began to withdraw again, another wave of erotic bliss washed over her and she clamped down on me again. This time, her vaginal muscles began to contract and expand, milking my cock until I managed to oblige her with my own orgasm.
Ruth had tears flowing down her cheeks. She tried to say something but kissed me instead, and just pulled me closer to her. Finally I rolled off of her, onto my side, resting my head on my hand and elbow and caressing her breasts with my free hand once again. Whenever I touched her nipple, her body would shudder and shake. When I ran my hand down to tease her clit, her hips would roll upwards, inviting me lower.
When I sensed that she was finally back among the living, I began to move away. "You need to sleep now, and to think about what you have just enjoyed for the first time in many years, apparently. I am going to go home now, because I don't want to sleep here tonight. Tomorrow is Sunday, and if you want to explore some more of what you have been deprived of, you will find something to occupy your children and then you will come to my house in the afternoon when I will attempt to improve upon that unfortunate circumstance. She nodded silently, acknowledging her understanding of what I had just said. I redressed and left her, asleep before I was out of the room.
It was just passed lunch time when my doorbell rang the next afternoon. Ruth stood by the screen, wearing shorts, a tee shirt and sandals. It was obvious that she was not wearing a bra as her hardened nipples were pushing out the front of her shirt. I opted for a little small talk, since this was her first visit to my home, offering to give her a guided tour. Her response was that we could do that later; right now she just wanted to find my bedroom. So much for easing into it.
Naked, in the daylight, she was a very attractive woman. Her tan lines accentuated her smaller breast size, and the paleness of her untanned skin highlighted her dark red nipples. Between her legs, a rather full bush of soft light brown hair covered her labia nicely, bordering on the leg edge where her pantie would cover without needing trimming.
I didn't even bother with kissing her lips, opting to move directly to her breasts, tonguing her nipples and then sucking one into my lips, nibbling on it with my teeth and finally holding it firmly in my lips and flicking my tongue against its tip until I felt her whole body begin to move beneath me. Slowly I moved away from her breasts, down her chest, drawing circles around her navel with my tongue and then moving further down her body. Without touching her with my hands, I began to blow through her pubic hair, tuning my head in such a way that I could blow down her labia, ever so lightly, teasing, and taunting without really touching. Finally I moved again, moving away and then between her legs, grasping her mid thighs with my hands and opening them full width.
I leaned forward carefully, keeping my body and face several inches from her, blowing continuously on the sides of her thighs and finally at the bottom of her vee, moving the concentration of my breath upwards from the hidden entrance of her vagina toward her clit. I could hear her begging me to enter her, but that wasn't going to happen any time soon. I could smell her desire, and see her wetness. Without a word, I moved my head forward and plunged my outstretched tongue into her vaginal opening. Her scream, as loud as it was, did not really surprise me, but her thighs clamping onto the sides of my head with such firmness did. I was locked into that position, so I did the only thing I could do--I continued to flick the tip of my tongue into her, as a snake flicks its tongue before striking its prey. I just kept stabbing her, in and out, in and out while her thighs remained wrapped tightly around my head. Her orgasms came fast and furious, probably three, maybe four before I felt her legs lose their grip on my head.
She needed to calm down a little. I could feel her heart pounding as I lay my head on her thigh, so I remained there until she began to move her hands and mumble something incoherently. Moving quickly, I returned my tongue to her crotch, moving slowly up one side of her lips and back down the other, never quite arriving at her clit before returning downward. She was begging again, clearly, between her heavy breathing, begging for me to enter her.
"Not yet," I told her, "not yet. We have a lot of time, all afternoon, and you deserve this too." I began to tongue circles around her clit without touching it. Finally I moved a bit and sucked the protruding lemon drop into my mouth, clamping it firmly between my lips and sucking on it with all my might. I only needed to bite it slightly before her thighs came crashing in again and her entire lower body began to tremble, and action that continued for nearly two minutes. When she relaxed again, I released her clit, moved my head away and positioned my cock to enter her, which I did without delay.
Wet, smooth, slippery, hot, and silky--how can I describe the feeling. She was tight, as tight as yesterday for certain, but very smooth and slippery. If I could have measured, I think her cunt may have been as large as the width of my little finger, certainly no more than that, and as I entered her, the muscles there had to expand to accept me, which they did, but not without some tension. Some tension???? I'm not huge there, but putting a rod that is at least an inch and a half into a tube that is not even half an inch means that those muscles are going to be tight, and friction, even well lubricated, will be heavy. I managed only six thrusts before my cock exploded into her and I managed three more thrusts while I kept shooting my load deep into her.
After a few minutes, she pushed me off of her and I rolled to her side. Her voice was a mixture of angry and sated.
"I can't believe that you put your mouth on me like that. No one has ever done that to me. How can you do that?"
"Are you trying to tell me that you did not enjoy it?"
"No, No. I enjoyed it. It was satisfying and scary and I was afraid because I didn't know what would happen and then it was so overwhelming and I lost all control of everything. But that isn't how sex is supposed to be."
"Hold on, young lady. There are no rules in sex, except only doing things that are pleasurable for your partner. There are no set methods or ways or positions or anything like that. The goal of having sex is to provide enjoyment and satisfaction to your partner and yourself, however you can do that to get it done. You have just experienced a tiny fraction of what we may do for and with each other."
"Mark, you have to understand that this is only the fourth or fifth time in my life that I have been naked with a man." Her voice was more apologetic. "We only did it twice after the baby was born before he disappeared from my life."
"Have you had no dates or any kind of social life since then?"
"A mother of two newborns does not have time for a social life. I worked two jobs, then went home and took care of my babies. So, no, I have not had any dates since then. But I don't want sympathy. I told my children that we had been forced to lead a very meager life for many years that lifestyle was coming to an end and that many things would be different now. And this, I guess, is one of them."
The mood had changed and I wasn't sure if getting her all worked up again would be the best thing for her. She slid from the bed and asked if she could use my shower, and my question was answered.
Later, we sat in the shade on my porch, enjoying a glass of wine. I decided that this was an opportune time to cover a key point with her. "Given your comparative innocence, I think it is important for you to understand the difference between making love and having sex. Beyond the obvious, I mean. People who are in love, when they feel very romantic, share their bodies with each other as a component of their love for each other. But sometimes their physical needs and desires give them the motivation to share their bodies with each other simply to satisfy their physical urges. This has nothing at all to do with being in love; it has to do with being a physically mature male or female and wanting to satisfy a natural craving for the other. It is, as we just demonstrated, not necessary to being love for two people to desire each other sexually."
"That seems kind of cold."
"Don't think of it that way. Consider the way your whole body trembled when I sucked on your nipples and blew through your pubic hair. We're not in love, Ruth, but you are definitely a very sensuous and desirable woman to me, and I think I did a reasonably good job of temporarily satisfying some urges in you. Nothing cold about it. It's just a different rationale." I looked at her and added, "Just talking about it and reminding you of an hour ago have made your nipples hard again. That's not being in love."
She tried to cover her breasts by folding her arms across her chest. "There is so much to think about," allowing her thoughts to trail off to somewhere else.
"Honestly, Ruth, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. You have fifteen years of pent up desire built up in you, you have a very sexy body that is extremely exciting to me, and you are responsive to my touch. As long as you understand that what we do is have sex and not make love, I will be delighted, and honored to help you relieve those pent up desires whenever you want."