Chapter 10: Family and Friends

Emma stood in the living room Saturday afternoon, her phone in hand, while we gathered around her in support, hoping to give her the courage enough to face ... whatever this meeting was supposed to get out of her. She wore jeans and a simple sweater — trying to look normal, mature, unbothered.

But she was chewing on a fingernail, clearly deep in nervous thought.

“Remember,” Mom said, sitting on the couch beside her, “you don’t owe her explanations. You don’t owe her anything.”

“If she asks invasive questions,” Dad added from his armchair, “you can just say it’s private family stuff. Which it is.”

“And if Lauren gets pushy,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, “you can leave. Text us and we’ll come get you immediately.”

Emma nodded, taking a deep breath. “I know. I just ... what if she tries to twist things? Make it seem like something it’s not?”

Mom cupped Emma’s face gently. “Then she’s the one with the problem, not you. Sweetheart, listen to me — you are a young woman who deserves her dignity. Your life, your family, your choices — they’re yours. Nobody gets to judge you for them.”

“We’re not doing anything cruel,” Dad said firmly. “We’re not hurting anyone. We’re loving each other openly and honestly. That’s not shameful.”

“I know,” Emma said, her voice stronger now. “I know that. I just need to remember it when she’s staring at me with her judgmental journalist face.”

I laughed. “Her what?”

“You know—that look people get when they think they’re smarter than you. When they’re trying to catch you in a lie.” Emma demonstrated, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head. “That face.”

“If she makes that face, just imagine her with a clown nose,” I suggested. “Makes it harder to take her seriously.”

Emma grinned, probably imagining me with a clown nose, some of the tension breaking. She hugged each of us — Mom longest, then Dad, then me.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, more to convince herself than us. “It’s just Becca and her sister. I can handle it.”

“Text us updates,” Mom said. “Even just emojis. We’ll be here waiting.”

Emma left, and the house suddenly felt too quiet.

We tried to busy ourselves. Dad turned on a baseball game but wasn’t really watching it. Mom went to the kitchen to look for shelves to clean — something she only did when anxious. I paced between rooms, checking my phone every two minutes even though Emma had only been gone for half an hour.

“She’s smart,” Dad said after about twenty more minutes of tense silence. “She knows what to say and what not to say.”

“I know,” Mom replied from the kitchen. “But we don’t know a thing about this woman. She’s probably going to be manipulative. What if she —”

“She can try,” Dad interrupted gently. “Emma’s stronger than you think. Than any of us think, maybe. I have faith in her.”

I sat on the couch, trying to focus on the game. But my mind kept spinning with worst-case scenarios. Lauren recording the conversation. Lauren twisting Emma’s words. Lauren publishing some exposé that painted our family as a bunch of groomers.

“We should have gone with her,” I said.

“No,” Mom said, coming back into the living room. “That would have looked suspicious. Like we were trying to control her. This way, Emma’s just a teenager meeting friends. Normal.”

“Nothing about this is normal,” I muttered.

“No,” Mom agreed, sitting beside me. “But not normal doesn’t mean wrong.”

We sat in uneasy silence, the baseball game providing pointless background noise, all of us trapped in our own worried thoughts.

The doorbell rang, making us all jump.

I got up and opened it to find Jessica standing there with a bag of takeout and a sympathetic smile.

“Heard you guys might need some moral support,” she said. “And Thai food.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” I said, pulling her into a hug.

She came in and distributed containers — pad thai, spring rolls, curry. We ate in the living room, Jessica’s presence immediately lifting the mood. She told stories about her work, about Tom’s latest cooking endeavors, about whatever new dramas were going on in her friend group.

“Maya and Derek wanted to try some sort of naked eating off people thing,” she said. “But Simone doesn’t think it’s sexy if you’re just lying there feeling like a pizza.”

“What side are you on?” Dad asked, amused.

“Team pineapple, obviously. I’m not a monster.”

We laughed, the normalness of the conversation a relief from the anxiety. But my phone started to buzz a few times, and we all tensed. Emma had sent a few texts:

Each text was a small reassurance, but not enough to fully calm us.

After we finished eating, Jessica stretched out on the couch beside me, her head on my shoulder. Mom and Dad sat close together on the other couch, his arm around her.

“You know,” Dad said after a while, “we’re all wound up tight. Maybe we should do something to de-stress.”

He said it casually, but there was mischief in his eyes. Mom caught it immediately, a small smile playing at her lips.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Dad said, his hand sliding down to Mom’s waist. “Something relaxing. Something that helps us forget about everything for a bit.”

Jessica lifted her head from my shoulder and looked between our parents, understanding dawning. “I’m feeling pretty game.”

“We probably have some time before Emma gets back,” Mom said thoughtfully. “And we need to be cheerful and reassuring for her.”

“We certainly need to do something other than sit here and worry,” I conceded, my heart already starting to beat faster.

Jessica’s hand landed on my thigh. “So let’s do something else.”

The energy in the room shifted instantly — from anxious to anticipatory, from worried to wanting. Dad pulled Mom closer and kissed her, soft at first, then deeper. Jessica turned to me and did the same, her tongue pushing into my mouth.

Within minutes, we’d split into pairs on separate couches, making out like teenagers. Mom’s hands were in Dad’s hair, his hands roaming her body. Jessica straddled my lap, grinding against me, my cock hardening rapidly.

“God, why do I always need this,” Jessica breathed against my mouth. “It’s so much fun needing you and then getting to have you.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, my hands sliding under her shirt, finding her bare skin. “I hope it never gets old.”

Across the room, Mom was unbuttoning Dad’s shirt, kissing down his chest. He groaned, his head falling back, already lost in her. Clearly it didn’t get old for them. That gave me hope.

Jessica pulled her shirt off, revealing a black lace bra that made my mouth water. I leaned down and kissed the swell of her breasts, and she moaned softly.

“Touch me,” she whispered. “Please.”

I unhooked her bra and tossed it aside, cupping her breasts, thumbing her nipples. She gasped and ground harder against my erection.

On the other couch, Mom had freed Dad’s cock and was stroking it slowly, teasingly. He watched her with hooded eyes, his breathing heavy, but then his gaze glanced and then fixed over towards us. I saw the lust in his eyes.

“Come here, baby girl,” Dad said to Jessica, his voice rough with desire.

Jessica paused, looked at me, and I smiled reassuringly. She climbed off my lap and moved to Dad, who pulled her down for a deep kiss. My sister. My father. Kissing with unmistakable hunger.

Mom let Dad’s attention go, as well as his dick, and moved over to me to watch Dad and Jessica have their moment. She sat beside me, head nuzzling into my shoulder, her hand going to my thigh, sliding up slowly. “Are we going to be okay?” she asked softly.

I don’t know if she meant her and me becoming lovers or whether our family was going to get through all of this Lauren bullshit, but I wanted to firmly reassure her. “More than okay,” I said.

“My darling son.” She leaned in and kissed me — tender at first, then more insistent. I could smell the morning’s gardening flowers on her, could feel the heat of her body against mine. This was my mother, and she was kissing me like a lover.

Across from us, Dad had positioned Jessica over the arm of the couch, pulling her jeans and panties down. She was bent over, ass in the air, and he stood behind her, kneading her asscheeks and spreading her, clearly exulting in the sight of what lay between. He wet his hand in his mouth and rubbed her pussy around, grunting in appreciation. “God you’ve got a sexy, tight little pussy, Jess” he murmured to her, his cock in his other hand.

“It’s wet for you, Daddy,” Jessica moaned. “I need to be fucked so bad. Bringing lunch was just an excuse — I wanted to come over.”

“You ready, sweetheart?” Dad asked.

“Yes,” Jessica breathed. “Please, Daddy. Give me your cock.”

He pushed into her slowly, and they both groaned. I watched my father’s cock slide into my sister’s pussy from behind, disappearing under those gorgeous ass cheeks, her hole stretched around him. Jessica arched her back, letting out a long moan, and I watched the pleasure wash over both their faces.

“Oh fuck,” Jessica gasped. “That’s it. That’s my Daddy’s cock. Fuck your little girl, Daddy!”

Dad started fucking her with steady, deep strokes, his hands gripping her hips. The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, mixed with Jessica’s moans and Dad’s heavy breathing.

Mom’s hand found my cock through my jeans, stroking me through the fabric. “Are you getting hard from watching this?” she giggled with delight. “Watching your dad fuck your sister?”

“Fuck yeah I am,” I admitted, my voice strained.

“Me too,” Mom said. She unbuckled my belt and freed my cock, stroking it properly now. “I love seeing our family like this. So open. So beautiful. My heart just fills right up.”

She kissed down my chest, then lower, until her mouth hovered over my cock. She looked up at me, eyes filled with desperate emotion, and I nodded eagerly.

Mom took me into her mouth, and I groaned loudly. Her tongue swirled around my head, her hand stroking what she couldn’t fit. Across from us, Dad was pounding into Jessica harder now, her cries getting louder.

“That’s it,” Dad was saying. “Take it, you sexy fucking slut. Take Daddy’s cock.”

“Harder,” Jessica begged, practically screaming. “Fuck me harder.”

Mom pulled off my cock and looked at me with dark, hungry eyes. “I want you,” she said simply.

“I want you too,” I said, my voice shaking.

We shifted positions — Mom lying back on the couch, desperately trying to pull off her shirt. I grabbed her roughly and lifted her up to pull off her pants and panties, and then pushed her legs up against her with both hands, revealing her pussy, that gorgeous fuckable milfpussy, already wet and ready. My hands trembled as I positioned myself, the head of my cock pressing against her entrance.