The Offer
Copyright© 2026 by Tharnoren
Chapter 1+2
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1+2 - College siblings Alan and Madison meet wealthy, provocative Rebecah at a wild night out. Her shocking offer—for them to indulge her taboo fantasy for cash—pulls them into a spiral of seduction, blackmail, and forbidden intimacy they can’t escape.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Blackmail Coercion Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Incest Brother Sister Humiliation Light Bond Rough Group Sex Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Spitting Slow Violence Illustrated
Alan let out an exasperated sigh as Sean pointed his fork at him, that smug grin plastered on his face. The two of them were hunched over a cluttered table of cafeteria trays in the campus dining hall, packed to the brim with students grabbing lunch between classes. Sunlight slipped through the tall windows, catching on the faded posters on the walls and the constant shuffle of backpacks and chatter all around them.
“Come on, man, admit it — you totally lost your shit last night. Dancing shirtless on the table? What was that? Did you think it was a runway or something?” Sean laughed, eyes gleaming with mischief as he stole a fry from Alan’s plate.
Alan shook his head, pretending to be offended while chewing his dry ham sandwich.
“If Larry hadn’t sucked so bad at beer pong, we wouldn’t have had to drink that much. It’s your fault anyway — you’re the one who insisted we play until sunrise.”
Across from them, Larry — messy hair, hoodie with the university logo — raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Hey, I drank just as much as you did. But I didn’t end up doing a half-ass striptease. You’re lucky nobody filmed that.”
He burst out laughing, and the three friends fell into playful banter, their voices blending into the background noise of clattering trays, bursts of laughter, and dozens of overlapping conversations.
The campus buzzed with mid-autumn energy, red-brick buildings glowing under the pale sun, lawns still green despite the recent rain that had left puddles here and there.
Alan and Sean, both second-year civil engineering students, usually spent their breaks together — decompressing between exhausting classes on soil mechanics and structural systems. Larry, a first-year law student, had joined them by chance after an orientation party a few weeks back. His enthusiasm for partying more than made up for his lack of legal knowledge.
Suddenly, two hands landed on Sean’s shoulders from behind.
“Boo!” squealed Bella, her high-pitched voice slicing through the noise like a laugh in motion.
Sean jolted, spilling water all over his jeans.
“Jesus, Bella!” he groaned, though his tone was more amused than annoyed, cheeks flushing under his scruffy beard.
The whole table erupted in laughter as she apologized with a quick kiss on his cheek — confirming, for anyone who didn’t already know, that they’d been a couple for months.
Bella, with her wavy chestnut hair and infectious grin, always brought a spark to the group.
A moment later, Madison appeared with a tray in hand and sunglasses perched on her nose despite the cafeteria’s dim lighting. She dropped into the seat beside Alan, setting her backpack on the floor with a dramatic sigh. For a beat, the table went quiet — then Alan cracked first.
“Rough day? You look like you’re about to go undercover or something, wearing those shades in here.”
Madison pushed the sunglasses up just long enough to reveal bloodshot eyes framed by smudged makeup.
“Go to hell,” she muttered, elbowing him harder than necessary.
Alan chuckled.
“Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one who kept downing shots like a champ last night.”
Bella, still laughing, whispered something to Sean — but Madison cut her off with a glare.
“Don’t even start.”
Too late. Bella went on.
“She had to run out of class this morning to puke in the bathroom. Tried to be subtle about it, but yeah, not really. The professor looked at her like she’d just confessed a crime.”
Everyone burst out laughing again, and even Madison cracked a resigned smile as she stabbed a forkful of salad.
Bella and Madison, both third-year economics students, had been inseparable since freshman year — opposites that somehow clicked. Madison’s sharp wit and no-filter attitude balanced Bella’s easy charm and bubbly warmth.
Amid the clamor of voices and clinking cutlery, Madison turned to Alan.
“By the way, Mom wanted to know if we’re coming home this weekend. I told her we’d get there around late morning. That work for you? She’s been nagging us to wash Dad’s car for weeks.”
Alan swallowed a bite before answering.
“Yeah, sure. I can drive if you want, so you can nap on the way.”
“We’ll see who’s less hungover if we go out tonight,” she shot back with a smirk.
Larry, half-listening while scrolling through his phone, perked up.
“Speaking of — there’s a party at Dylan’s place tonight. Big one. Housewarming or something. Supposed to be huge.”
Bella’s eyes widened.
“Wait, the Dylan? The guy who throws those legendary parties everyone talks about for months?”
“Yup,” Larry grinned. “Friend of a friend invited me. Open bar, heated pool, the works. The dude’s mansion is insane.”
Dylan was practically campus folklore — the rich kid whose family owned half the city’s real estate. His Victorian house on the riverbank was the stuff of stories: sprawling gardens, priceless art, rooms you could get lost in. An invite to one of his parties was like a golden ticket.
The table buzzed with sudden excitement.
“I’m in,” said Sean, eyes lighting up.
“I’ve got work till eleven,” Alan sighed. He waited tables to cover rent for his shoebox apartment just off campus — tiny, but convenient, with a scenic view of the parking lot.
“Same,” added Madison. “A mountain of paperwork to finish first. But after that? I’m free.”
Everyone groaned in sympathy.
“You two should just move in together already,” Sean suggested, yet again, wiping his wet jeans with a napkin.
Alan shook his head.
“For the tenth time, no. I like having my own space.”
“Not in a million years,” Madison added. “He leaves socks everywhere and forgets dishes for days. The smell would kill me.”
They all laughed, imagining the disaster.
Madison rented a small two-room apartment on campus — functional, a bit impersonal, decorated with travel posters of places she dreamed of visiting. Alan lived nearby, in an equally modest building with paper-thin walls. Their parents, humble teachers from a small northern town, had raised them to be independent. They helped with groceries now and then, but otherwise, the siblings were on their own.
Whenever things got rough — a missed rent payment, a rushed move — they had each other’s backs. Beneath the teasing and arguments, their bond was solid, built from years of shared struggle and loyalty.
Bella glanced at her watch and nudged Madison.
“We gotta run. Class is all the way across campus, and the professor hates latecomers.”
She leaned down to kiss Sean on the lips.
“See you tonight, my love. Don’t start the fun without us!”
The girls grabbed their things and disappeared into the crowd, laughter echoing behind them.
The guys exchanged knowing looks, the spark of anticipation already in the air.
“So,” Sean asked with a smirk, “you guys planning on going home alone tonight?”
Larry nearly choked on his food.
“God, I hope not. I’m dying here. Still not over Ophélie though. It’s been three months and I’m still hung up on her.”
Alan grinned.
“Time to move on, man. Plenty of fish in the ... campus.”
“Easy for you to say,” Larry shot back, pointing at him. “You never get attached to anyone. You’re like some emotional ghost.”
Alan shrugged, smiling.
“I just know this isn’t where I’m gonna find my happily-ever-after princess.”
They all laughed again, the mood easy and warm — and as the lunch break came to an end, the thought of the night ahead hung in the air, electric and promising.
-------------------------- CHAPTER 2 --------------------------
The street running alongside Dylan’s house was a cheerful kind of chaos, a living serpent of cars parked half on the sidewalks and half in puddles that mirrored the neon glow of string lights wrapped around the trees. The autumn night had turned into a warm cocoon, thick with the smell of damp leaves and stale beer, while the bass from some pounding electro track throbbed through the Victorian walls like a giant heart.
It was the biggest party Alan had ever seen on campus—hundreds of students, red cups in hand, queued endlessly at the open gate, laughing, shouting, shoving their way into what looked like a temple of legendary debauchery. Voices clashed, laughter broke apart in the noise, and somewhere beyond, the shimmering reflections of a heated pool revealed half-naked silhouettes already drunk enough to dive in without a care.
Alan, Madison, and Larry stood a little apart, leaning against the cold body of an old, anonymous sedan, watching the crowd flow by. Madison had ditched her college outfit for a tight black dress that hugged her athletic figure, her loose hair spilling down her shoulders. Alan, in slim jeans and an open shirt over a plain tee, was already sipping from a lukewarm beer he’d snatched from a group of freshmen. Larry, true to form, wore an oversized hoodie and a beanie pulled low over his messy hair, nervously scrolling through his phone.
“Dude, this is insane. It looks more like a music festival than some rich kid’s house,” Larry muttered, tucking his phone away, eyes wide at the crowd pouring through the glowing gate.
Madison crossed her arms, smirking as a gust of wind spun a dead leaf past her boots.
“Yeah, and look at those guys—they totally broke the door open. If Dylan calls the cops, we’re all spending the night in a cell.”
Alan laughed, crushing his empty can with a mock-dramatic gesture.
“Larry, your ‘friend of a friend’ better have us covered. If not, I’m blaming you for the hangover and the arrest.”
Larry raised his hands like a shield, pretending to be offended.
“Relax, man! The invite’s solid. Look around—open bar, pool, and a ton of girls who definitely aren’t here to talk about their thesis. It’s Christmas come early.”
They burst out laughing, the excitement rising like a tide, when a horn blared at the end of the street. A beat-up car screeched to a stop, and Bella jumped out like a storm, poured into a sexy top and low-rise jeans. Sean, her eternal sidekick, climbed out more calmly, locking the doors with a soft beep.
“Madi!” Bella shouted, running to Madison. The two girls crashed together in a theatrical hug, their laughter cutting through the street noise.
“Oh my God, you look amazing tonight! Those legs, girl—you’re killing it!” Madison said, stepping back with her hands on her hips, giving Bella a once-over.
Bella twirled playfully, making her short skirt spin.
“Please, look at you! That dress is fire. You’re smoking hot—guys are gonna fight to get a glance. Seriously, I’m jealous.”
The boys, standing like amused statues, exchanged knowing looks. Sean shook his head with a grin. “Same old story. The second they meet, it turns into a runway show. We’re invisible.”
Larry snorted. “Nah, it’s just their ritual. You interrupt and you’re dead.”
Alan folded his arms, faking boredom.
“So, we going in? Or are you two auditioning for a Sex and the City reboot out here?”
Bella shot the guys a wink, looping her arm through Madison’s.
“Come on, losers. And Sean—stay close. These animals look hungry.”
The group finally crossed through the gate, swallowed by the massive house that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the music. The entrance—a grand hall with vaulted ceilings and crystal chandeliers that tinkled lightly under the bass—overflowed with moving bodies. A spiraling staircase led to upper floors drowned in dim, muffled music, and the walls, lined with old portraits—probably Dylan’s ancestors—watched the chaos with offended dignity.
The air was heavy with sweet perfume, sweat, and cheap alcohol, intoxicating enough to make your head spin before you even drank.
The guys made a beeline for the makeshift bar in the main room, a folding table piled with half-melted ice buckets and cheap liquor bottles. Sean came back with a round of cold beers, Larry threw back a suspicious shot of vodka, and Alan grabbed two glasses for the girls. They squeezed their way to a cozy corner—a cluster of worn velvet couches around an unlit fireplace—where they collapsed in a messy circle, knees bumping.
“This place is a damn palace,” Sean murmured, raising his beer, eyes scanning the gold moldings and Persian carpets trampled underfoot. “Dylan must’ve paid for all this with his grandfather’s inheritance or something. I saw a room with a pool table and a cigar bar. No joke.”
Larry nodded, his cheeks already flushed. “Yeah, the dude’s loaded. His dad’s in real estate in New York—skyscrapers and all that. But Dylan’s chill. Not one of those rich assholes.”
Madison sipped her beer, one eyebrow cocked.
“Whether it’s fancy or not, I bet there’s a secret room with a safe full of cash. Or coke. Or both.”
Laughter burst out, and Alan followed up, “And what about bets for tonight? Who’s ending up in tears in the bushes? Larry, you’re the favorite with your ghost crush on Ophélie.”
“Shut up,” Larry grunted, laughing, though his smile betrayed how entertained he was. “No, I’m saying Bella—she’s gonna dance on a table and sprain an ankle.”
Bella chucked a throw pillow at him.
“Try it and I’ll drown you in the pool.”
The mood was electric, a little bubble of laughter in the middle of chaos, when a shout rose from the crowd: “Larry! Hey, Larry, over here, man!”
A tall guy with short dreads, shirtless under a denim jacket, waved from a cluster near the glass doors. Larry straightened up at once, his face lighting up.
“That’s Jake! The dude who hooked me up. Guys, I’ll be right back, promise. Don’t have too much fun without me!” He lifted his drink in an exaggerated toast, gave Madison an over-the-top wink—she rolled her eyes—and dove into the human tide, swallowed by dancing bodies.
Outside, through the steamed-up windows, people pressed around the pool, lit by solar torches that danced across the hot water. Joyful screams greeted another round of flip-cup: rival teams lined up on folding tables, downing beers and flipping cups in rapid succession. The group stretched out across the couches freed by a mass exodus, legs extending as one with a collective sigh.
Sean, an arm slung around Bella’s shoulders, scanned the room.
“Hey, wait ... isn’t that Tom over there? The guy from my freshman photo club?”
Bella narrowed her eyes. “The blond with the scruffy beard? Yeah, we should go say hi.”
Sean stood, tugging Bella up by the hand.
“We’ll be right back, promise. Madi, keep an eye on Alan—don’t let him hit on everything that moves.”
“As if I need to,” she retorted, waving a hand.
And just like that, Alan and Madison found themselves alone on their little velvet island, the party swirling around them like a distant hurricane.
The night flowed like a cold beer: smooth, fizzy, effortless. Madison sank into the cushions, crossing her legs.
“So, how’s school? Still designing bridges that don’t collapse?”
Alan shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah. And you? Going to get rich off your econ classes? Gonna buy us a yacht for the holidays?”
She elbowed him, feigning indignation.
“You idiot. Seriously, it’s going well. Yesterday we did derivatives, and the professor said I’ve got a knack for analysis. By year-end I might apply to Goldman or something. Hired straight out, glass offices and all.”
He raised his glass, this time sincere.
“That’s awesome, Madi. Really. You’ve always been the smart one. Dad would be proud—and Mum would knit you a ‘future banker’ sweater just to annoy you.”
Their glasses chimed softly as they touched, and they drank in companionable silence for a beat, enjoying the easy closeness that needed no words. Alan noticed his cup was almost empty.
“Hang on, I’ll top us up. Want another?”
Madison hesitated, glancing at the writhing crowd. Alone? Here? No way. But she waved the thought away with a gesture.
“Yeah, go for it. But hurry.”
“Promise, two seconds.”
He slipped away, moving through the crowd like a fish in a current. Madison drummed her fingers on the armrest, watching a couple making out outrageously against a wall, when Alan reappeared with two foamy drinks. He handed one to her with a wink.
“Here—special house brew. Dylan must’ve imported it from some secret fraternity.”
She lifted the glass and grimaced, nearly spitting.
“Ugh! What is that? Cat pee with syrup? You trying to muffle me or something?!”
Alan burst out laughing and flopped down beside her.
Their laughter wove back into the background noise, and the conversation slid naturally toward home—the family house up north they hadn’t been back to in weeks. “Dad’s doing better, you know,” Alan said, his tone softer.
“Last scan’s clean. Mum says he’s getting his strength back—already nagging about the garden.”
Madison nodded, relief softening her face.
“Phew. I was scared. But yeah, we’re okay now. This weekend we’ll bring him a giant pizza to celebrate.”
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