Unleashed: Neighbour Needs Help
Copyright© 2026 by TMax
Chapter 31: Neighbors’ Memories
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 31: Neighbors’ Memories - Part of the Unleashed Series. Zer causes her older neighbor to have an accident, so with guilt in her heart, she vows to help her neighbor. In the process, her neighbor helps her learn new things and grow from a naive, innocent little girl into a confident young woman. Slow serial. Thirty-Six Chapters. Some chapters contain incest scenes with father, mother, and sister, Polly. Of note: this story has hardcore sex scenes, but also character development.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Fa/ft Consensual Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Incest Mother Sister Father Light Bond Group Sex Orgy First Masturbation Oral Sex Sex Toys Big Breasts Teacher/Student Slow
I couldn’t process what Mom just said and found myself staring at Dad’s crotch, at the almost invisible pin-sized wet spot. When I realized it, my gaze jumped to Dad’s lips, which smiled, then, with guilt in my heart and a bit of confusion, over to Mom’s full and flushed with blood lips, which so made me want to kiss her, then back to Dad’s lips, to compare and answer her earlier question about which I liked better. Both, the same, but different, and flustered, I pressed play on the video.
Video dad started with a quote, “George Eliot said, Jealousy is never satisfied with anything short of an omniscience that would detect the subtlest fold of the heart. I believe that. I don’t want to control my partner. I don’t want my partner ever to have to be with me. I have too much ego for that. I want my partner to want me. I need my partner to choose me. Nothing turns me on more than a partner sampling others and choosing me.”
Sure, that makes sense, but like, how do I not feel jealousy?
The camera panned out, and Dad’s torso appeared. Not overly muscular, but thin, less hairy, and not ugly. In the background, the same black couch from Mrs. Reynolds’ place sat and reminded me of that day, when Dad caught me, masturbated to me, and I did those things to Mrs. Reynolds, fun, awful, sadistic things that I loved. Things I never dreamed I could do, would want to do, and yet, even now, Mrs. Reynolds on that couch, naked, tied, breasts highlighted, legs wide, vulva engorged with blood, and Dad at the doorway lingered in my mind, superimposed over the world around me.
“There will always be stuff that others do better, that my partner will like more, but I will strive to be the best overall partner, the one they choose over and over, every day, and if jealousy at the door, if jealousy invades my heart, I will talk about it with my partner, we will act like adults and discuss our feelings, like adults.”
The camera panned out some more and showed Dad completely naked, and a strange woman, a blonde, with long flowing hair, bright red lips, and crystal blue eyes, with her tongue on Dad’s erection, the pink muscle on the shaft. She licked up and down as she stared at the camera. My mind screamed, filled with images of me on my knees, me on the floor in front of Dad, my lips on his erection.
“Jealousy is not the fault of my partner, but rather a failing of my heart, a weakness that I need to deal with. A person cannot make another person jealous,” he said, and his voice broke on weakness, and the blonde turned and engulfed Dad’s dick. Her blonde hair cascaded down to the two dimples on her lower back, Dimples of Venus, that accented her inverted heart-shaped ass, and hid Dad’s penis. My heart fluttered, and I almost groaned because I wanted to study it, to memorize Dad’s erection. I have no idea where the fascination with Dad’s penis came from, but I wanted it, to suck it, to taste it.
And Jealousy invaded my heart, jealous of the blond, jealous of Mom, of Polly, of everyone, and yet, while it sat their like a lump of mud, black, and filled with rot, a flower grew from it, beautiful, my love for Dad, my love for Mom, my love for Polly, how the jealousy meant I loved them, that it needs to exist, as soil for love.
“François de La Rochefoucauld said ‘In jealousy there is more of self-love than love.’ and while I love myself, I will vow to love my partner just as much, because, with love in my heart, there is no room for jealousy,” Dad said and started to say something else, but Mom appeared on the screen, a young version of Mom, before us babies and years of raising us, and the late nights at work. She rushed forward and kissed Dad. Smothered him. Like she wanted his soul inside her, her hands held his head as their lips locked. Her body interfered with the blonde, who smiled at the camera and mouthed, “True love.”
But I understood jealousy better. Jealousy exists because we love. Jealousy exists because of our need for connection. It will always exist in my heart, because Dad, and Mom, and Polly will always exist in my heart. Fuck, I so wanted to swallow Dad’s dick.
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