Waking Dream
Copyright© 2025 by icehead
Chapter 2
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Following a horrific car accident, young Alex finally awakens from a four year coma, to the surprised delight of his grieving family. But four years is a long time, and his family has changed while he slept, in ways Alex could never have imagined. As he struggles to reconcile the memory of the family he once knew with who they have become, Alex must determine if he still belongs with them, and whether he can be a part of their unconventional new lifestyle.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Consensual Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter Cousins Uncle Niece Aunt Nephew Group Sex Orgy Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration First Facial Oral Sex Voyeurism
I don’t know how long I lay awake that night, but my fatigue and the meds did eventually catch up with me again. When I woke up again, it was nearly 8AM, and I continued to lie there, staring at the ceiling, or out my window at the morning sky, with its calm, empty serenity. Nothing like the thoughts going on in my head.
I wasn’t watching my clock, so I can’t say how long I continued to just lie there before a knock came at my door. When I didn’t answer, the door opened and Mom carefully stepped in. “Good morning,” she said in a gentle voice.
I looked at her without answering, and turned my head to look away at my window again.
Mom sighed, and began approaching me the way one might approach a wounded animal. “How are you feeling?”
I hesitated, but decided she at least didn’t deserve the silent treatment. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
She slowly sat down on the side of my bed. “I can imagine what you’re thinking right now. You must be so confused, trying to figure out which way is up. But we’re all here for you, as much or as little as you need us to be.”
I had no response to this. Nor did I respond when she reached out and stroked my arm. I had been so grateful for their support these path months, but now? ... I just didn’t know what I wanted from them, if I wanted anything.
“Will you at least come join us for breakfast?” Mom asked.
I finally deigned to look at her, and saw the expression of gentle pleading on her face that told me how this was important to her. I sighed, and said, “Okay.”
She helped me to sit up and handed me my cane. She paused a moment, contemplating something, but seemed to think better of it and left the room ahead of me, allowing me to follow at my own pace.
Everyone was already seated at the table when I arrived, dishing up plates of pancakes, eggs and sausage. As soon as I entered everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me anxiously. I stopped there and looked around at them all, and then slowly took a seat, while they all watched me as if they thought I was going to break.
“You want some pancakes, son?” Dad asked.
I hesitated, and finally gave them a half-hearted “Sure.”
I let Dad fill my plate while the family continued watching me, some of them continuing to eat without taking their eyes off me. It was starting to make me very uncomfortable. I groaned, and said, “Look, can you all stop staring at me like I’m a bomb that’s gonna go off?”
The family started looking at each other at that, and refocused on their breakfast. Albeit without speaking. It was still awkward, but the tension was off me a little bit.
Aunt Cassie finally broke the silence with, “Have you thought any more about what you’re gonna do now, Alex? Education-wise, I mean?”
I had thought about that, during my stay in the hospital. As I had mentioned to them before, there was no way I was going back to a public high school as a 20-year-old junior, especially with all my friends gone, so I was going to complete my high school degree online. After that... “A little,” I said, trying as hard as I could to pretend like everything was normal. “Haven’t decided anything.”
“I haven’t really decided either,” Kazia said. “With my classes at State, I’ve been getting all my basic requirements done, but I still don’t know if my social sciences major is really the way I want to go.”
“I thought you said you liked those classes,” Victor said.
“I said they were fine, but I kinda picked my major in a hurry ‘cause I couldn’t think of anything better,” Kazia clarified. “Not everyone knows they want to be an engineering major like you.”
They continued to fall into this normal conversation, seeming to forget about the elephant in the room. Before long, the scene started to look like just a normal family enjoying breakfast, with no evidence of the debauchery that had gone on the night before. I didn’t contribute to the conversation unless I was asked a question directly, and I kept my answers short. Not because I was trying to avoid contact, just because it was difficult for me to know how to talk to them now.
Throughout it all, Mom seemed to sense my mood, as she kept turning her attention to me and gaging my reactions. At one point when the conversation naturally fell quiet and nobody had spoken again, Mom said, “You know, you can feel free to ask us any questions.”
As soon as she said this, everyone paused in their eating and looked at me again, waiting to see if I would say anything. I finally did say something. I looked around at my siblings and cousins and asked, “Do you still date? With all this going on?”
There was a brief silence before anyone answered. “Sometimes,” Kazia said. “A few people. No one serious so far.”
“At least no one serious enough to tell them about...” Victor said, his sentence not needing to be finished.
“I had a boyfriend for a while that I got pretty close with,” Brandi said. “And I thought about telling him, and we discussed it as a family. But things ended with him before we got to that point.”
“We’re aware that our lifestyle causes certain ... complications in our kids’ lives,” Cassie admitted.
“One word for it,” Perry said in a low voice.
Cassie went on, “But we’ve agreed that we wouldn’t trade it for anything.” And when there were nods of agreement all around, I felt my appetite for what was left on my plate suddenly drop. It wasn’t much, but it was still more than Mom usually liked me to leave uneaten.
“Alex?” Dad asked.
I set my knife and fork down. “I think I’m done.” I pushed up from my chair, retrieved my cane and started limping away.
“Alex, don’t go!” Sarah Jean protested.
Cassie put a hand on her arm. “Let him be, honey. He just needs to process.”
I hoped that was all that was needed. I really did.
I spent several hours just sitting alone in my room after that, trying to come up with some idea of how to go about normally. I didn’t come out when they knocked on my door to tell me that my aunt and uncle and cousins were heading home, as I wasn’t ready to look them in the eye and pretend that everything was normal. A few times I even caught myself wishing I were back in the hospital in a coma again, just because that was simpler.
Like it or not, my family was still my anchor. The world had moved on without me; my friends from school had gone on to colleges or new jobs, a few were even married now. I was years behind in my education and job experience, and I still had more recovering to do. My family were the only remnant of the life I knew that was still here, and they were not as I remembered them. My family were so happy to have me back; well, I wanted them back! I wanted the family I remembered, not this funhouse mirror reflection of them that they had become!
At least, that was what I told myself for a while. The more I thought about it, though, the more holes I found in that argument. As I thought back to the way I remembered them, I remembered Kazia and I fighting all the time, calling each other names and arguing about household chores. Now she was attentive and loving, spoiling me with baked goods and showering me with affection. I remembered Victor used to dismiss me as his annoying little brother who would cramp his style when he was trying to impress his girlfriends, or get in his way when he was tuning up his motorcycle. Now he acted like we had never been anything but the best of buddies, sitting with me in the hospital while I got caught up on the latest superhero movies, or showing me the new engine designs he was working on.
I had no doubt why they were doing all this. They had missed me and grieved for me while I’d been gone, and I had been grateful for all their love and attention during my recovery. But how could I fully appreciate it now, when I couldn’t even look at them the same way? While a lot about my interactions with them had changed for the better, the fact remained that I knew these people, and yet I didn’t know them anymore.
I only could think of one person to talk to about what was on my mind. My phone was in my hand and I’d pressed the call button before I’d really thought about what I was going to say. After a couple of rings, I heard the sandpaper voice of the person on the other end say, “Hello?”
“Hi Grandma.”
“Alex, sweetie! So good to hear your voice! You’re happy to be home, finally?”
“Yeah, it’s awesome,” I said dully. That simple happy question she’d asked served as a reminder that what should have been a magical happy moment was now tainted.
She picked up on my heavy tone. “Alex? Everything alright, sweetie?”
“Yeah, it’s just...” For the first time, it occurred to me to wonder whether or not Grandma knew what my family had been getting up to. “There’s just been a little bit of drama since I got back.”
“Drama? What kind of drama?”
I cringed uncomfortably, not wanting to say too much in case Grandma was in the dark. “Well ... let’s just say it turns out the family has changed more than I thought ... and, last night I saw something I didn’t expect...”
“You saw something?” she asked, giving me the uncomfortable feeling that she was going to ask for details. I was just trying to think up an excuse to get out of it, when I heard her make a noise of sudden understanding. “Ahh, you saw that something.”
Her tone said it all. “You know?”
“Yes, and I’ll say to you what I’ve said to them: spare me the details.”
So she knew, but wasn’t involved. I was kind of relieved to hear that. “How did you find out?”
“That’s a long story that I’d rather not go into. Let’s say it involves a few misplaced clothing items and Sarah Jean’s lousy poker face.”
In spite of myself, I laughed a little at that. “So, are you saying you approved of it?”
“‘Approved’ might be too strong a word. More like accepted, with a provisional don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy. I know this might come as a shock to your tender young ears, but I was young and hot like your mom and aunt once. I had my own set of adventures that no power on this Earth will get me to tell you about. If this is theirs, well, I can’t say I fully understand, but I’m not prepared to judge. Everybody grieves in their own way, honey.”
Setting aside the slightly funny feeling I got from someone describing my mom and Aunt Cassie as young and hot—which ... maybe?—I contemplated Grandma’s stance, which sounded rather blasé and yet surprisingly healthy and balanced. It was a stance I wished I could so easily adopt.
“I’m just trying to make sense of it all,” I sighed. “I go to sleep for four years and wake up to this? It’s like I don’t know which way is up.”
“I can imagine, sweetie,” she said gently. “I can’t tell you how to process what’s changed about your family, but I can promise you this: the way they feel about you has never changed. There was not a week that went by while you were sleeping that several of them didn’t visit you in the hospital. They read to you, they talked to you, they sang to you, and we’re all convinced it’s the reason you’re still here. So don’t you doubt for one microsecond that they all love you, and having you home again is the best gift any of them could have asked for.”
I had no response adequate for this. I just sat there and took this in silently.
And then Grandma’s tender demeanor changed on a dime to a harder, more mirthful one as she said, “But, if you feel you need to come stay with your old Granny for a while to get a break from the madness in that house, I’m sure they won’t hold that against you.”
I snorted a small laugh. “It’s a tempting offer, Grandma,” I said. And it really was. “But I’m still not quite ... well, I’m not totally ... independently mobile yet, and ... well, forgive me for saying this, but you’re...” I found I couldn’t even say what I wanted her to forgive me for saying.
I didn’t have to. “I’m not exactly Simone Biles anymore,” she admitted wryly. “Yes, that’s fair enough. Still, the offer’s always open.”
“Thanks Grandma. And not just for the offer.”
“Of course, sweetie. Just remember, communication is key. You can talk to your family, just like you can talk to me, and it’s important that you do.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“I’m glad you called, Alex. Still so happy to have you back with us. Love you!”
“Love you too, Grandma.” And I ended the call, feeling a little better than before.
A little.
In the days that followed, I tried my best to adhere to Grandma’s advice. I focused on the fact that my family still loved and supported me, which they were not shy about demonstrating. They checked on me regularly, they made sure I had plenty to eat at every meal, they took me out for walks to help my legs get stronger, whatever it took. And they tried their best to not draw attention to what I had seen them doing that night, and I tried my best to act as though I wasn’t looking at them differently.
That’s not to say their activities were completely invisible, or that they didn’t slip up from time to time. I would still sometimes hear beds squeaking and moaning coming from behind bedroom doors, and I would simply make an uncomfortable face and walk away. When they brought me out to join them for family movie night, I graciously accepted the spot on the couch that Mom reserved for me beside her, and then tried to focus on the movie and not on the way Kazia was practically crawling into Dad’s lap and rubbing his crotch.
There was one time when I walked into the hall just as Kazia was coming out of the shower. The bathroom door opened and she stepped out, rubbing at her wet hair with the towel, totally indifferent to the fact that she was still completely naked. When I gasped her name, she looked at me in surprise, then down at herself, and belatedly realized that I wasn’t supposed to see her like that. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly as she wrapped the towel around herself. “Force of habit. We kinda don’t really bother to ... anymore.”
“Right,” I deadpanned. And she disappeared into her room.
I quickly disappeared into mine, too. And then I realized that the image of my sister’s naked body had just been burned into my brain, resurfacing every time I closed my eyes. And God in Heaven help me, but my sister was hot!
It was at that point that a certain question I hadn’t dared think to ask got answered: did that part of my anatomy still work after four years in a coma?
... Yes, as it turned out, it did.
I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the fact that I had gotten a hard-on from seeing my sister naked. Once upon a time, I would have simply chalked it up to me being a hormonal dude and seeing a naked girl, no matter who she was. But in light of what I now knew about my family, having a boner in response to Kazia’s body seemed to take on a different meaning, and I didn’t exactly know what it was, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to think about it. I made a point not to think about it, and simply stood there, breathing steadily and thinking about my online schoolwork until my erection went down, and did my best to put that little encounter out of my mind.
At any rate, at least my family was trying. I had to give them credit for that. It didn’t take me long to realize that they were chomping at the bit to get down and dirty with each other, the way they were used to, and were holding themselves back on my account. It made me start worrying about being a burden to them; they were not only going out of their way to care for and support me, but they were putting a damper on their lifestyle for my sake. As weird as it seemed, it made me feel kind of guilty.
But what was I going to do? Give them a greenlight to continue their incestuous humping right out in the open, where I could see it? I wasn’t ready for that. But they had said themselves that they weren’t ready to give it up. So we appeared to be at a crossroads. Sooner or later, something had to give.
One day I had been spending a few hours in front of my computer getting schoolwork done, and decided to take a break by stepping out into the backyard to enjoy some sun and air. I soon found to my dismay that others in my family had a similar idea. As I stepped outside and turned to my left, I found Dad reclined in one of the patio loungers by the glass table with three half-emptied glasses of iced tea on it. He was gripping the edges of the lounger with white knuckles and clenching his teeth, owing to the fact that Kazia was bent over his lap with his dick in her mouth, and Mom was holding Kazia’s head and guiding her motions, whispering dirty talk in her ear.
“Jesus!” I gasped and looked away, and would have probably stumbled and fallen had I not thrust my cane out just the right way.
They all looked up and stopped what they were doing, and Dad scrambled to stuff himself back into his shorts. “Oh, Alex, we thought you were studying!” Mom said.
“I was,” I groaned, cringing as I held a hand over my face. “I’m taking a break.”
“Oh, God,” Kazia whimpered, turning red as a tomato. She buried her face in her hands and went dashing past me and into the house.
“Look, son, I know this isn’t an easy adjustment for you,” Dad said with a sigh, “but it is something you’re going to have to get used to seeing around here. We’re doing our best not to shove it in your face, but things like this are bound to happen from time to time.”
“This is who we are now,” Mom agreed, a slightly apologetic tone in her voice.
I stayed silently not looking at them for a moment. Then I thought of the other option, and I dropped my hand from my face and turned to face my parents. “You know, Grandma did offer to let me stay with her for a while. I’d have a little bit of space where I can get my head around things, and you’d be free to ... do your thing...” I did my best to not sound weird and uncomfortable as I said this last part, but I wasn’t sure how successful I was.