Ethan's Nieces
Copyright© 2025 by sublock
Chapter 14: Homecumming
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 14: Homecumming - A young man comes home from his first year of college to find that his family's changed... a lot. As the summer progresses, he gets a strange summer job and faces some big fears with the support of his parents and siblings. Note: has quite a lot of partner-sharing (swinging). Not an exclusive harem story.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft Ma/ft mt/Fa Fa/Fa ft/ft Fa/ft Mult Teenagers Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Workplace Sharing Wife Watching Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter Cousins Uncle Niece Aunt Nephew Grand Parent InLaws Rough Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Facial Oral Sex Voyeurism Public Sex Small Breasts Nudism AI Generated
Jessica pulled us into our driveway Sunday afternoon, and I felt the weight of what I had to tell my parents settling in my stomach. Emma sat beside me in the back seat, noticing my thoughts, and her hand found mine and squeezed it gently.
The front door opened as we grabbed our bags, and Mom stepped out onto the porch. She wore a casual sundress, her hair pulled back, tall and maternal and still with a knock-out figure. She looking relaxed and happy. Good. I was worried that their weekend had been a lot more stressful than hours. Dad appeared behind her, also in weekend mode — shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot.
“Welcome home!” Mom called, coming down the steps to hug us both. “How was the beach?”
“Amazing,” Emma said, returning the hug enthusiastically. “The house was incredible.”
Dad hugged me, then Emma, then grabbed our bags. “Jessica, you staying for dinner?”
“Can’t,” Jessica called from her car. “Tom and I have plans. But we’ll see everyone soon, for sure!” She waved and backed out of the driveway.
We headed inside to the familiar comfort of home. The living room was clean and peaceful, the kind of quiet Sunday afternoon that felt like a gift after the intensity of the weekend.
“So,” Mom said, settling onto the couch, “tell us everything. How was everyone? Did Emma have a good time?”
Emma and I exchanged glances. This was it.
“It was great,” I started. “Really great. But something happened that we need to talk about.”
Dad’s expression shifted immediately, protective instincts engaging. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone’s fine. It’s about Lauren.”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Mom’s relaxed posture tensed, and Dad’s jaw tightened.
“What about her?” Mom asked carefully.
I took a breath and laid it out: “I saw her at the beach. She was there, in town. She was still creeping on us, but she was kind of freaked out. I confronted her and we talked. About everything — her investigation, what she thinks Blackwood is, why she’s been targeting us. And I invited her to the retreat.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“You did WHAT?” Dad’s voice was controlled but dangerous.
“I invited her as an embedded observer. To see what we really are from the inside instead of making assumptions from the outside.”
“Ethan, she’s a psycho,” Mom said, her voice tight. “She sent you photos of our family having sex in our own backyard. She’s threatened us —”
“She’s scared,” I interrupted. “And alone. And yes, she crossed lines. But she’s also not going away. She might write this story, she might not, I have no idea, but I want to get closer to her to figure out her deal.”
“So your solution is to give her a front-row seat to the retreat?” Dad stood, pacing. “To expose the entire community to a hostile journalist?”
“She knows about the community already, Mom. David told me that she’d already been at one of the events. And I think we can get her focus back on Blackwood, not us. We talked for a long time. She’s got some stuff on them, but it’s all a jumbled mess. She dug into us because she thinks we’re groomers, or being groomed by them, or both. But we’re just doing our own thing in all this, with or without Blackwood.”
“And what if she’s just saying that to get more dirt on us?” Mom asked. “What if there’s nothing there but prejudice and fear and the desire to expose us?”
Emma spoke up for the first time: “I think this might be our chance to check if that’s what this is and head it off at the pass. So Mom, Dad — I think Ethan is making the right call here.”
Both parents turned to her, surprised.
“You do?” Mom asked.
“Yeah. I was pissed at first, I’m not going to lie. But the more I thought about it...” Emma moved to sit beside Mom. “Lauren keeps engaging with us. With Ethan specifically. She’s a bit obsessed, maybe because she wants what we have. The freedom, the honesty, the love. If seeing us happy at the retreat is what finally breaks through her shame ... I think that’s worth trying?”
“But honey, she hurt you,” Dad said gently. “She put you in a place of fear and tried to pump you for information.”
“She did. And I’m not forgetting that. But I’m also not afraid of her anymore.” Emma’s voice was strong, confident. “So now I’m like, ‘fuck her’,” my Mom raised her eyebrows at the language, so she pushed it further, “ ... or let’s get Ethan to fuck her. Let’s all fuck her. That seems to solve most problems around here.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. But part of me ... I mean, she wasn’t unattractive.
I thought about what to say next. “Right now, Lauren knows everything about us. Photos, videos, documentation of our family, our sex life, our connection to Blackwood. We know very little about her except that she’s confused, panicky and desperate. If she goes to the retreat, she’s going to be stuck with us for a while. I think we’ll really find out what’s what with her.
“And Richard approved it,” I finished.
Dad stopped pacing. “He did?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed, “David and I called him from the beach house. He said Blackwood’s been monitoring Lauren for a few weeks. They know about her investigation, her surveillance. And he sees this as an opportunity — to show her what we’re really building instead of letting her imagine the worst. I think he’s confident in whatever hand he’s playing.”
Mom and Dad exchanged a long look, having one of those silent married-couple conversations.
Another long silence. Then Mom said quietly, “I’m less worried about Emma’s harassment at this point. That’s mostly resolved. What terrifies me is exposure. If she publishes our family’s story — names, faces, details — we could face legal consequences. Criminal charges.”
“I know,” I said. “That’s the risk. But my gut says that’s not what she’s after anymore. And now we’re in one of those I Know What You Know That I Know situations. Ruining us doesn’t get her much, except us badly hurt and pissed at her.”
Dad sat back down heavily. “Your ass is on the line if this goes sideways, Ethan. You understand that? This could affect all of us. Affect your career forever.”
“Yeah, I understand. The free life comes with some risks.”
He looked at Emma. “And you’re really okay with this?”
“If we can help her chill out and step back ... honestly I think that’s kind of noble.”
Mom swallowed hard. “You guys are too nice. I’m worried the world won’t understand.”
“So fuck the world. Let’s stay nice anyway. Nice and SEXY, mom.” Emma said, moving to hug them with a smile.
Dad stood and pulled me into the hug. “Okay. We trust your judgment. But any of us gets veto power. If Lauren crosses any lines, then she’s missed her chance with us.”
“Deal.”
The tension drained from the room, replaced by exhausted relief. Mom ordered a round of Thai food, and we spent the rest of the evening decompressing—telling funny stories from the beach, laughing about the karaoke, and teasing them with snippets of what really happened until they squirmed with curiosity.
But we were all pretty exhausted, so first Emma called it, I did a bit later, and we retired to our rooms. It felt good to have to explain my thinking to them. The Lauren decision felt less like a crisis and more like a calculated risk. One we were taking together, as a family.
Monday was gloriously boring.
I woke up late, stretched in my own bed, and spent the morning doing chores I’d been neglecting. I made everyone a nice lunch, mowed the lawn, and helped Dad with some organizing. Normal, mundane, grounding tasks that reminded me after all of this that I was still just some regular nineteen-year-old kid back home for the Summer.
“Phil and Linda are coming over for dinner — Sarah too, I think,” Mom told Emma and me during lunch, “so I’m making something nice. Super appreciate you tackling some of the housework, but I’m still hoping for some help in the garden this week!”
Emma did all of our laundry, and we worked around the house in comfortable silence, the domestic intimacy feeling just as important as the sexual kind. She brought me lemonade while I mowed, sitting on the porch steps and watching me work.
“You’re very domestic for someone who’s been having orgies all summer,” she observed when I took a break.
“Orgies don’t exempt you from yard work.”
“Noted. When I’m having my first gangbang, I’ll make sure to schedule around the dishes.”
I choked on my lemonade, and she laughed.
That afternoon, after Mom came home from grocery shopping and her and Dad started making dinner, Emma and I had done enough to claim the living room for video games. She insisted on some racing game where her skill absolutely demolished mine.
“I’m kicking your ass at this just like I kick your ass at sex,” she announced after winning her fifth race in a row. “Accept your fate.”
“Big talk from someone who begged me to ‘please don’t stop’ all weekend.”
She threw a couch pillow at me, grinning. During a loading screen, she shifted to straddle my lap, her controller abandoned beside us.
“Hi,” she said, her arms going around my neck.
“Hi yourself.”
We kissed slowly, her body warm and familiar against mine. I felt myself hardening as she ground down slightly, but there was no urgency. Just comfortable intimacy.
“Should we...?” she asked when we broke apart.
“Mom’ll be pissed if we’re not ready for dinner. And the doorbell might ring any minute. Tonight though.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She accepted this easily and went back to destroying me at racing games.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Mom marshalled the troops. Emma and I helped set the table — the nice dishes, actual napkins, the works. I could smell a pot roast that I knew was using fresh herbs from the garden, and the house filled with warm, domestic comfort.
I showered and changed into clean clothes, aware of the low hum of anticipation building. Philip was Dad’s brother, Linda was his sexy Korean wife, and Sarah their brooding sixteen-year-old daughter. We’d all been together a bit, especially the last Blackwood party, so there was shared history. But family dinners could go either way — completely normal or intensely sexual. I had no idea what to expect.
They arrived at five, Linda hugging everyone warmly. She was in her late thirties, Philip was tall and solid, he and Dad worked together as contractors for years. Sarah smiled mischievously at us from dark eyes, she was working less of an emo look than she used to, and she hugged Emma immediately.
“I’ve missed you!” Sarah said. “Mia said you’ve, uh ... started enjoying the things with the fam. How was the beach?”
“Amazing. I’ll tell you everything later.”
Dinner itself was wonderfully normal. Mom’s pot roast was perfect, and the conversation flowed easily — Sarah coaching Emma on what to expect next year in school, and bragging about college plans to my parents. Philip and Dad discussed retirement, housebuilding and sports. Linda and Mom caught up on family gossip, trading stories about our different families.
Sarah was deep in conversation with Emma, clearly delighted that my sister and I had finally been brought into the fold, they whispered and giggled like the teenage girls they were. I caught “fingerbang karaoke” and had to suppress a chuckle.
After dinner, we migrated to the living room with coffee and pie. Someone turned on a late-night comedy show, and we arranged ourselves comfortably — Mom and Dad on the loveseat, Linda and Philip on the couch, Emma and me on the floor in front of it, Sarah nearby in the armchair.
The guest doing tonight’s standup was surprisingly sexual in her humor — lots of jokes about dating apps and hookup culture. Everyone laughed easily, the room relaxed and warm.
During a musical interlude, Emma shifted closer to me, her hand landing on my chest. I reciprocated automatically, my hand finding her hip under her shirt. Philip and Dad were trading their own jokes, trying to make the rest of us laugh.
When the comedian made an especially crude joke about a threesome gone wrong, everyone looked at each other and chuckled. It certainly wasn’t a problem for us.
“We could do better than that,” Emma said, shaking her head.
Philip looked at her. “Yeah?”
She grinned wickedly and straddled me right there on the floor, facing me. “Yeah. I’ll prove it.”
The room went quiet except for the TV. Emma pulled her shirt over her head, then reached back to unclasp her bra. Her small breasts were perfect in the lamplight, nipples already hard.
Nobody objected. Nobody looked away.
Emma unbuckled my jeans and pushed them down along with my boxers, freeing my hardening cock. She stripped off her own shorts and panties, and I heard Philip groan “Oh wow...” from the couch.
“You sure about this?” I whispered to Emma.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
She positioned herself on the cushions, lying back in the middle of the room, running her hands down her body and using them to pull her legs apart. Her gaze was fixed on me, but I know that she was getting off on giving everybody a show. She was turning into quite the exhibitionist.
Well far be it for me to ruin the performance. I slotted myself at that gorgeous entrance, and teased her a bit ... teased everyone, just slowly rubbing into it, making her squirm. But at some point you’ve got to give the audience what they want and I finally began to sink my cock into her tight, wet heat. We both gasped at the sensation, her pussy gripping me perfectly, and she started to push back against me with deliberate, sensual movements.
“Oh fuck,” Emma moaned, loud and uninhibited. “Yes, I love your cock.”
I gripped her hips, thrusting in to meet her, and even though everyone was watching us, the living room was quiet except for the wet sounds of sex and Emma’s increasingly excited moans. She pulled me down to kiss me, intimate despite our audience, my chest pressing against her breasts.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.