Relative Pleasures
Copyright© 2026 by Obscene Vices
Chapter 7: Sister Time
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 7: Sister Time - In the Davidsons' perfect suburban life, Jenny and her sister Mandy have been secret lovers since teens, sharing boyfriends and now their husbands. One night, with the kids supposedly out, the adults start an orgy in the living room. John and Emma return early from a busted party, witness the incestuous scene, and sneak upstairs. Shocked but aroused, they confess desires and have sex, fantasizing about joining the family depravity. No one is safe from the family taboo.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter Cousins Uncle Niece Aunt Nephew InLaws Gang Bang Group Sex Orgy Swinging Anal Sex Analingus Double Penetration First Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Voyeurism
Sunday was usually the day Jenny slept in. This morning she woke up earlier than usual. But no matter what time she woke up, Mark’s side of the bed was empty; he left early for golf. She lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet house, orienting herself. She vaguely remembered him kissing her forehead in the dark. She’d grunted and rolled over.
Now, alone in the wide bed, she stretched her arms above her head, back arching, toes pointing—and felt the pleasant ache between her legs. The soreness of a woman who had been thoroughly, repeatedly, and enthusiastically fucked.
She smiled at the ceiling.
Yesterday.
The memories came in a rush—a continuous reel that made her skin flush and her nipples tighten against the sheets.
All the memories. The children admitting to catching the adults. John and Emma seducing her. Mark walking in on them. The shock on his face. Then Emma somehow turned catastrophe into opportunity. The whole family giving into the incestuous desires. And then again. And again. And then fucking Mark at night to cap it all.
Jenny’s hand slid beneath the sheet, her fingers finding the smooth, sensitive skin between her thighs. She was very wet. Her middle finger parted her folds, and she inserted her finger.
She thought of John inside her. The way he’d looked at her when he fucked her. Her son. Even now, she couldn’t believe she fucked her son. And then the thrill sent a shiver down her spine.
Two fingers in now. Finger fucking herself.
She thought of Mark fucking his daughter as she fucked her son. Then she thought of Emma’s mouth on her—her daughter’s tongue eating her.
Three fingers now.
Then another image pushed forward—unbidden but inevitable.
Mandy.
Her sister’s face. Mandy’s mouth on her pussy instead of her daughter’s. Her sister, her lover, her foil.
Jenny’s hand stilled. Her eyes opened.
Mandy. Today had to be the day.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand and typed before she could overthink it.
Hey, M. Brunch today? Just us. That place on Maple with the patio out back. 11?
She hit send and stared at the screen, her heart beating faster than it had during masturbation. Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Love to! Everything ok?
Jenny smiled. Mandy could always sense the current beneath the surface.
Yeah. All good. Need some sister time. Without distraction;)
Awww. I love distractions;) See you there. Love you ❤️
Love you more. ❤️
Jenny set the phone down and exhaled slowly. The wheels were in motion. In four hours, she would either bring her sister into the fold or detonate a bomb that couldn’t be undetonated. There was no middle ground.
Her hand drifted back between her legs, her arousal still simmering. She needed to cum. She needed to clear her head before the most important conversation of her life.
She closed her eyes and let the memories wash over her again without filtering them—John’s cock stretching her as he whispered, “Mom,” and Emma’s tongue on her clit. Mark’s face as he saw her being pleasured by her children.
Her fingers moved faster. Her hips rocked against her hand, her breath coming in sharp little gasps. All the incestuous thoughts flooding her mind were helping her reach the crescendo. The orgasm hit fast. Jenny came with a gasp, her back arching off the mattress, her thighs clamping around her own hand, and her pussy pulsing against her fingers. A soft moan escaped her.
She missed Mark next to her. And then she remembered.
There was a perfectly good cock in this house.
Jenny threw the sheet back and swung her legs out of bed. She didn’t bother with a robe. She padded naked down the hallway, her bare feet silent on the hardwood, and stopped at John’s room. She eased the door open.
Empty. The bed hadn’t been slept in.
She smiled knowingly.
She continued down the hall to Emma’s door. She pushed it open gently and stepped inside.
The room smelled like sex. That was the first thing she noticed—the unmistakable scent of sex. The sheets and pillows were scattered.
John was alone, sprawled diagonally across Emma’s mattress in the way that only young men slept—one arm flung above his head, one leg hanging off the edge, and the remaining sheet twisted around one ankle. He was completely naked, his body on full display. His chest rose and fell with the deep, even rhythm of dreamless sleep. And his cock lay against his thigh, semi-hard. Do young guys ever get soft? Jenny wondered and smiled. Not that she was complaining.
Emma was gone, but Jenny noticed the note on Emma’s desk, propped against a textbook. She crossed the room and picked it up—Emma’s loopy handwriting on a torn sheet of notebook paper.
Gone to school—bake sale committee. Back by 3. Didn’t want to wake sleeping beauty. Go get ‘em today, Mom.
Jenny shook her head, smiling. Emma always knew.
She set the note down and turned back to the bed. To her son. Naked, smelling of his sister, sleeping in his sister’s bed after a night of fucking her. A week ago, this thought would have been unthinkable. Now it made Jenny’s pussy clench with desire.
My son, she thought. My beautiful, filthy, perfect boy.
She moved to the bed and knelt beside it, her face level with his hips. This close, the scent was stronger—the musky, intimate cocktail of John and Emma together. Her mouth watered.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the head of his cock—a soft, warm, good-morning kiss. The taste hit her tongue immediately—salt and musk and something sweeter underneath, something that was unmistakably her daughter. Jenny moaned softly, the flavor making her head swim. She was tasting both of her children at once, and the depravity of that knowledge sent a pulse of heat straight to her core.
She opened her mouth and took him in gently, letting the warmth and wetness do the work, her tongue cradling him as he began to stiffen more against her palate. She licked him slowly, deliberately—cleaning him, tasting him, savoring the mingled flavors of her son’s cum and her daughter’s juice as his cock swelled in her mouth. It was filthy. It was intimate. It was everything.
John stirred. His hips shifted, pushing instinctively toward the warmth before his conscious mind caught up. Jenny began to bob, using her hand to cup his balls and roll them gently.
“Mmmmm...” John’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked against the sunlight streaming through Emma’s curtains. Looked down. Saw his mother—naked, kneeling beside his sister’s bed, her lips wrapped around his now-fully-hard cock, her eyes looking up at him with morning mischief.
His body tensed with pleasure. “Mom—oh, fuck—oh, yesss...”
Jenny continued blowing him. She pulled off just long enough to murmur, “Good morning, baby.” Her hand replaced her mouth, stroking him slowly. “I woke up thinking about you. Thinking about yesterday.” She kissed the tip. “And I realized I have a gorgeous son with a gorgeous cock right down the hall. It would be criminal to waste a perfectly good Sunday morning.”
“Mom, yes. This gorgeous cock is available anytime for that gorgeous mouth. Or pussy.”
“I know, baby. And I love it.” She licked a slow stripe from base to crown, and John watched his stomach muscles clench involuntarily. “Mmm. You taste like your sister, baby. You taste like both of my children.” She swirled her tongue around the head, her eyes locked on his. “Do you know how fucking hot that is?”
John groaned, his cock twitching in her hand. “Jesus, Mom...”
“Now lie back,” she whispered, “and let Mommy have her breakfast.”
John made a sound that was half laugh, half surrender, and gave himself over to her completely.
Jenny returned to her task with focused purpose—blowing her son. The thought made her tingle again. She took him deep as John’s hand found her hair, threading through it, not pushing—just holding on.
She pulled back to the tip, her tongue flicking his frenulum, making his cock jerk, then slid her mouth lower—her lips trailing down to his balls. She took one into her mouth, sucking gently, rolling it on her tongue, then the other, bathing them with slow, wet attention while her hand stroked his cock lazily.
“Mom—oh God —”
Jenny hummed against him. Then she did something when she was feeling particularly wicked. She pressed her hands against the backs of John’s thighs and pushed his legs up, exposing his asshole completely.
John’s eyes went wide. “Mom—what are you —”
Her tongue dragged a slow, flat line across his asshole.
“Holy—fuck—” His whole body jolted, his hands fisting the sheets, his cock twitching hard against his stomach. No one had ever done that to him. The sensation was electric—wet, warm, and shockingly intimate. And his mother was looking up at him from between his raised thighs with absolute wickedness in her eyes.
She licked him again, circling, teasing, the tip of her tongue tracing the tight ring of muscle while John made sounds he didn’t recognize as his own. She pressed in gently, felt him clench and then relax, and hummed with satisfaction.
“Mommy’s full of surprises,” she murmured against his skin and inserted her tongue into his ass once more before lowering his legs and swallowing his cock again in one smooth motion.
Now her rhythm was urgent, with her hand twisting at his base. Her other hand had slipped between her own thighs, her fingers finding her soaked pussy, circling her clit in time with the bobbing of her head.
She could feel him getting close. The thickening pulse against her tongue, the tightening of his thighs, the way his breath had gone ragged and desperate.
“Mom—I’m close—Gonna cum.” His voice was strained, his hips bucking.
Jenny didn’t slow down. She wanted this. No, she needed this. She moaned around him and continued sucking.
John came, and his cock pulsed between her lips, thick spurts flooding her mouth, one after another. Jenny held still, letting it pool on her tongue, savoring the fresh, clean taste of her son’s cum. She smeared it across her lips, and then she swallowed and licked him clean.
She released him with a soft pop and sat back on her heels, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb. She looked thoroughly satisfied with herself.
“Morning protein shake,” she announced. “Every mother’s secret to a productive Sunday.”
John stared at her, his chest still heaving, and smiled. “You’re absolutely insane.”
“Touché.” She looked at him and grinned with satisfaction.
He propped himself up on his elbows, still catching his breath, and looked around Emma’s room as if seeing it for the first time in daylight. “Where’s Em?”
“Bake sale committee. She left you a sweet note and an even sweeter sister-flavored cock for your mother to enjoy.” Jenny stood, stretching, naked and unselfconscious in the morning light. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand on his knee.
“I need you to do something for me today,” she said.
John read the change in her tone immediately. He sat up against the headboard. “What’s going on?”
“I’m meeting Aunt Mandy for brunch at eleven.” She let that land.
The room was quiet. John studied his mother’s face. “And?”
“And I’m not sure where it will go. But regardless, I think you should be ready.”
John’s eyes widened slightly as understanding dawned. “You’re bringing her back here.”
“Maybeeeee...” Jenny put her hand on his and smiled conspiratorily. “I need you here. Showered—properly showered, you smell like uggh.” She twisted her nose and grinned. “But make sure to hide yourself till I call you.”
“You want me to...”
“I want you to be you.” Her voice softened. “Mandy has always had a soft spot for you. She talks about how handsome you’ve gotten, how tall, and how much you remind her of your father. So just be you. Whatever happens, happens.”
John was quiet, processing. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re going to do Aunt Mandy. And then bring me in.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Mom—that’s...”
“Brilliant?”
“Yes!” His smile widened. “Turns out Emma gets it from you.”
She stood and headed for the door. John’s eyes followed his mother as she swayed more than usual, performing for her son. In the doorway, she paused and looked back at her naked son.
“Shower. Stay in your room until I call you.”
She disappeared down the hallway.
He sat in the quiet of Emma’s room, still remembering his mother’s blowjob, and shook his head slowly.
This family, he thought, will be the death of me.
He grinned. Then he went to his room to shower.
Jenny arrived at the brunch ten minutes early. She always arrived early when she was nervous—it gave her time to choose her poison to calm her nerves.
The hostess seated her on the back shaded patio with wrought-iron tables spaced generously apart. Normally a mimosa gal, she ordered a dirty Mary with a double shot of vodka. And a mimosa for Mandy.
She’d chosen a white silk blouse—sleeveless, with a plunging V-neck that showed the curves of her breasts. And with no bra, her nipples were easily visible, black pointed buttons against the white blouse. She’d left the top three buttons undone—enough cleavage to be deliberate, not enough to be obscene. Paired with a short blue skirt that fell mid-thigh, showing off her legs. Hair down. Minimal makeup. She looked like a MILF, and she laughed silently, thinking of the meaning of that term—and how true it was.
She took a sip of her drink, thinking about how to break the news to her sister.
The truth was, there was no elegant way to tell your sister that you’d fucked your son and your husband had fucked your daughter and everyone was fine with it. There was no Hallmark card for this. No brunch-appropriate segue from ‘how’s work?’ to ‘I swallowed my son’s cum this morning.’
Jenny laughed again—this time a little louder, a small, slightly unhinged sound—and the woman at the next table glanced over.
Get it together, Jennifer.
Just then she saw Mandy.
Her sister came through the patio entrance the way she always did—sunglasses pushed up on her head, oversized bag slung over one shoulder. She was wearing a sundress—ivory with a delicate floral print, thin spaghetti straps, the neckline low enough to show off her breasts, naturally, without a bra. The fabric was thin, almost sheer in the sunlight, and the skirt was short, well above the knee, showing miles of legs.
She looked beautiful. She always looked beautiful. She was the hotter of the two—Jenny always knew it. She couldn’t help falling in love with her. And Mandy would do anything for Jenny.
That’s my girl, Jenny thought, and waved to her.
“There she is.” Mandy dropped into the chair across from Jenny, tossed her bag under the table, and immediately reached for the waiting mimosa. “God, I needed this. Abby had friends sleep over last night. Do you know how much noise those girls make at two in the morning? I thought the house was being invaded.”
Jenny smiled. “Emma’s the same. They never grow out of it. Not that we didn’t make noises ourselves.”
Mandy snorted into her drink. “Yes. That’s true. And God, Bob just snored through it all.” Mandy took a sip. long sip and sighed. “Okay. I’m human again. Hi.”
“Hi.”
Something passed between them. The unspoken frequency that sisters share.
Mandy tilted her head. “So. What’s up, Jen?”
“Can’t I just want to see my sister?”
“You can. But that’s not why you texted me at seven-thirty on a Sunday morning and then ordered a Dirty Mary.” Mandy set her mimosa down and leaned forward. “What’s going on?”
Jenny took a breath. “Okay. I need you to let me get through this. Don’t interrupt until I’m finished.”
Mandy’s playful expression shifted to something more careful. “You’re scaring me.”
“Don’t be. It’s not bad. It’s just ... big.”
“How big?”
“Enormous.”
Mandy picked up her mimosa—something to hold. “I’m listening.”
“Well ... you remember the day you and Bob were over the other day? And we were in the living room where we...”
“Yes,” Mandy said. And she smiled despite everything as the images of them fucking each other with their husbands came to her.
Jenny kept talking.
She told her everything. Not slowly, not carefully, not with the rehearsed phrasing she’d practiced in the shower. She just told her. How Emma and John had come home early and discovered them. How, instead of being disgusted, they fucked each other, how Emma had seduced her dad, and then they both seduced her yesterday. When Mark returned, he saw them together and how Emma made him join them. All four of them, together, on the living room couch, and then in the bedrooms. Saturday afternoon through Saturday night.
Jenny just narrated. She kept her voice low and steady, watching Mandy’s face the entire time.
Mandy didn’t interrupt. Her mimosa stopped halfway to her mouth and stayed there. Her eyes went wide, then wider, then settled into something complex and unreadable.
When Jenny finished the first part, the silence between them was heavy.