Chapter 6: The New Normal

Dinner was different in the Davidson’s house. With the newfound love for the family, they had a different appetite—for food and for each other. Any guilt that may have been there had been replaced by a desire for depraved family pleasures. This freedom was reflected in their dressing, or lack thereof, as they had dinner, which was pizza that they had ordered in. Spending time fucking left no time for cooking dinner. They just gathered together on the living room sofa to eat.

Jenny, who wore a simple silk robe that ended mid-thigh and which she hadn’t bothered to tie shut. Her breasts and her hard, rosy nipples swayed with every movement, a sight Mark and John, and for that matter, Emma, watched with open appreciation. She hadn’t bothered to wear anything else. Mark, who was also wearing a blue gown, similarly undone, his chest exposed and his cock clearly visible, held a bottle of beer loosely in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.

Their children had followed their parents’ lead. Emma was a vision in a sheer, lilac baby-doll nightie, so flimsy it was almost transparent. She had purposely chosen the sheerest teddy she owned. John had just put on loose boxers with the buttons undone to allow easy access to his cock.

They ate the pizza in silence, imbibing each other’s presence. There was no more pretense, no more awkwardness—just an acknowledgement of desire for each other—a carnal, incestuous hunger.

“I still can’t believe how normal this feels,” Jenny murmured. Her eyes were fixed on her son’s crotch, trying to glimpse his cock straining to come out, and itching to hold it in her hands. “How ... right.”

John met her gaze, a slow, confident smile spreading across his lips. “It feels right because it is right, Mom,” he said. “We were always meant to be this close. We just needed a little push to see it.”

Mark took a long pull from his beer, his eyes drifting from Jenny’s exposed breasts to Emma’s barely covered body beside him. His daughter’s exposed body was causing a stirring in his cock. He shook his head slowly, a quiet laugh escaping him. “If someone had told me this morning that I’d be sitting here, eating pizza, staring at my daughter’s tits while my wife eyes my son’s cock ... I’d have called them insane.”

Emma leaned into him, her hand landing casually on his bare thigh, fingers inching towards his growing erection. “And now, Daddy?”

He looked down at her, his expression softening, but his cock hardening. “Now I’m wondering why the hell we waited so long.”

Jenny laughed—a genuine, warm, throaty laugh that made all three of them look at her. The silk robe had slipped further off one shoulder, and she made no effort to fix it. “You should have seen your face this morning, Mark. When you walked in on us, I thought you were going to have a heart attack.”

“I nearly did,” Mark admitted, grinning despite himself. “My wife had my son’s cock in her mouth, and my daughter was eating my wife’s pussy. That’s not exactly a typical Saturday morning.”

“It is now,” Emma said brightly, her hand now grasping her father’s cock in her hands and giving a couple of pumps.

John looked at his sister, masturbating his father, and his hands rested on Jenny’s bare thighs. Jenny didn’t pull away but shifted closer, the robe riding higher, revealing the smooth expanse of her upper thigh. John’s hands followed the new territory without hesitation.

“So,” John said, his voice dropping into that lower register that Emma recognized as his turned-on voice, “since we’re being honest—Mom, did you ever think about it? About us. About this.”

“I don’t know if there was one moment,” she said carefully. “You know, Mandy and I are lovers. But I never really thought of incest with my children. But you know, I don’t think I was against it. There was some kink at the back of my mind, I guess.”

“And now?” John pressed, his hand sliding further up her thigh.

Jenny met his eyes. “Now I think we should have done it earlier.” She leaned over and kissed him—not a motherly peck, but a lover’s kiss with her tongue longing to explore her son’s mouth. John cupped the back of her neck, deepening it, his tongue sliding against hers as her robe fell completely open.

Mark watched them, his cock thickening visibly in his daughter’s hand as she continued to jerk him. “Oooooh. I think Daddy likes seeing Mom kiss John,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jenny broke the kiss, glancing over, and saw Emma’s hand on Mark’s erection and smiled. “Can you blame him? Your brother’s a hell of a kisser. He gets that from his father.”

“He gets other things from his father, too,” Emma murmured, continuing to give Mark a slow squeeze. She looked across at John. “And I think it is super tasty.”

Mark laughed. “Jesus, Em. Way to bruise a man’s ego.”

“I didn’t say I had a preference,” she purred. “I love them both. They’re different.” She stroked Mark slowly as she spoke, her voice clinical and filthy at the same time. “I’m a lucky girl. I get both.”

John groaned, watching his sister’s hand disappear into their father’s gown. “You’re unbelievable, Em.”

“You love it,” she shot back, echoing a phrase that had become their mantra.

Jenny crossed and uncrossed her legs, the movement drawing John’s attention back to her. His hand, still on her thigh, slid higher until his fingertips grazed the damp warmth of her pussy.

“Mom,” he murmured. “You’re wet.”

“Yes, Sherlock. I’ve been wet since we sat down,” she confessed, spreading her legs wider for him. “Watching you right now. Remembering this morning—your cock inside me, John. And now—this.” She shuddered, pointing to the scene in front of her as her nipples tightened visibly as she felt John’s thumb on her clit.

Mark pulled Emma closer, his hand coming up to cup her breast through the sheer nightie, his rough thumb circling her nipple until the fabric bunched above the swell. “This is what you wanted, didn’t you?” he murmured into her hair. “You little minx. This is all you.”

Emma arched into his palm, her hand never stopping its slow, twisting strokes on his shaft. “Guilty,” she breathed. “But look at us now, Daddy. Look at how happy we are. Tell me I was wrong.”

He couldn’t. Instead, he bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth through the flimsy fabric, wetting it, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak. Emma moaned, her grip tightening on him.

Across the couch, John’s thumb was drawing tight, deliberate circles on Jenny’s clit. Her head was tilted back against the cushion, her legs draped wide over John’s lap, the silk robe a forgotten puddle of fabric beneath her. Her chest rose and fell unevenly as her son’s fingers worked her with an intimacy that made her toes curl.

“You know what I kept thinking about today?” Jenny said, her voice raspy, her hips shifting subtly against John’s hand to give him better access. “After you all went upstairs, I was cleaning up. I stood at the kitchen sink, and I could still taste you, John, on my tongue. And I thought—” She gasped as John slipped a finger inside her, curling it forward. “I thought I just fucked my son. And daughter. And I want to do it again.”

“You will. Every day if you want.” John said, his voice low and steady, adding a second finger. He watched his mother’s face as he fingered her, withdrawing slowly and inserting back the two fingers, making a squishing sound, and smelling the aroma emanating from his mother’s moist cunt.

“Every day,” Jenny repeated, a whisper and a promise, her hand coming up to cover his, pressing his fingers deeper. “Every goddamn day.”

Emma watched her mother writhing on John’s hand while she continued pumping her father’s thick cock—now fully hard and leaking precum. The sight of both her parents, open and hungry for their children, made her heart skip a beat, and she smiled—a possessive, triumphant, warm smile. I did this, she thought. I brought us together.

She kissed Mark’s jaw, his stubble rough against her lips. “Daddy,” she murmured, sweet and deliberate, “I want to suck your beautiful cock.”

He glanced at Jenny, who was watching them through half-lidded eyes, John’s fingers still buried inside her. Jenny nodded once, slowly, her lips curving, as if permitting him to be sucked by his daughter.

“Do it, sweetheart,” Jenny said as John’s thumb pressed her clit. “Show me how much you like to suck your Daddy.”

Emma didn’t need more encouragement. She shimmied off her nightie to be completely naked. Then she slid off the couch and onto her knees between Mark’s legs, her bare ass on display for anyone who cared to look—and John definitely looked, his eyes flickering from his mother’s wet pussy to his sister’s round ass before returning to the task at hand.

Emma parted the blue gown fully and gripped her father’s cock at the base. It was heavy in her hand, the veins standing against the flushed skin. She loved it—different from John’s, thicker, the head broader, the scent of him muskier. She breathed him in, her nose grazing the trimmed hair above his shaft, and pressed her lips to the underside, planting soft, open-mouthed kisses along the length from root to crown.

“Jesus,” Mark groaned, his head dropping back. “Baby...”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and adoring, and wrapped her lips around the head. Her tongue swirled over the slit, and she moaned at the taste. Then she went down, taking him into the wet heat of her mouth inch by inch, her throat relaxing to accommodate him. Her dad’s cock, she thought, and felt a thrill as she fed his dick in her willing mouth. It belonged here.

She began to bob, her head moving in slow, purposeful strokes. Not teasing. Not hurrying. Savoring. The wet sounds of her mouth on his cock—slurp, gawk, slurp—matched with the filthy moans of Jenny from the other end of the couch.

Mark’s fingers threaded into Emma’s hair, guiding but not forcing. He watched her through half-closed eyes—his daughter, his beautiful, wicked daughter, her pink lips stretched around him. “That’s my girl,” he said, his thumb stroking her temple. “So good, baby. So fucking good.”

Jenny watched, her pussy clenching around John’s fingers. Seeing her husband being pleasured by their daughter sent a bolt of heat through her. She’d always been aroused watching Mark with Mandy—but this was different. This was their daughter. Flesh of their flesh. And she was sucking Mark’s cock with a devotion that was both obscene and tender.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Jenny breathed, turning to John, needing to share the moment.

John nodded, his fingers continuing to pleasure his mom. “Gorgeous. You both are.” Jenny’s gaze dropped to his lap, to his cock proudly jutting through the boxer slit. She licked her lips—an unconscious gesture that was completely honest. “You’ve been patient, baby,” she said softly. She placed her hand over his, stilling his fingers inside her. “Let me return the favor.”