My Taboo Life
Copyright© 2026 by H. Malcom Walker
Chapter 6: The First Time
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 6: The First Time - She lost her once. She won't lose her again. Piper spent eighteen years searching for the newborn daughter taken from her. Now she's found Amelia, eighteen, in an Arkansas trailer park, unaware the stranger watching is her flesh and blood. With a new name to go along with her large bank account, the only thing Piper lacks is conscience. Some bonds survive separation. Some loves break every rule. A dark, transgressive novel about obsession, dominance, and the terrible gravity of blood.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Coercion Consensual Lesbian Incest Mother Daughter BDSM DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Light Bond Spanking Analingus Masturbation Oral Sex Pregnancy Sex Toys Water Sports
The storm came without warning, the way summer storms tend to do in Arkansas. I was wearing my comfortable robe, sitting on my couch reading when the first lighting flashed and several seconds later thunder shook the trailer. It was so loud it felt like the world was splitting open. Within minutes, the sky turned green-black and the rain came down in sheets, horizontal and violent, driven by wind that made the trailer sway on the cinder blocks holding it up.
I was definitely not expecting to hear a knock at my door.
I opened it to find Amelia standing there, soaked through, the t-shirt she had never given back to me was plastered to her skin, her nipples visible and hard from fear or the chill rain or both. Her beautiful auburn hair hung in wet ropes around her face. She was shaking, her teeth chattering, her eyes wide with panic.
“I was walking home from work and ... I hate storms,” she gasped, her voice barely audible over the wind. “Can I ... can I stay? Just until it passes?”
Reaching out, I grabbed her hand and pulled her inside immediately, ignoring the water dripping off her onto the floor. With a big smile to let her know everything was fine, I gently pushed her down the hall and into the small bathroom. She felt ice cold, her skin clammy, her body trembling against my hands.
“Strip,” I ordered. “Then hand me out the wet clothes.”
It didn’t take her long, then she handed me out the t-shirt, shorts, and a pair of plain white panties from behind the partially closed door. I wrinkled my nose at the panties, since I knew they would do nothing for her figure. We’d have to fix that situation soon.
“There’s towels under the sink,” I told her through the flimsy door. I heard her rummaging around as I moved down to my bedroom for a few moments.
Knowing she was roughly the same size as me, although my breasts were bigger, I handed her a pair of my lacy thong underwear and a very thin, short camisole through the door, and a few moments later she emerged, looking drop dead sexy.
“Damn, girl. You look so much better in those than I do. We need to get you a few pair,” I said. She only blushed and smiled, still shivering.
Taking her by the hand, I led her to the bedroom, the only room in the trailer that felt truly safe, enclosed, private. I gave her a gentle push towards the bed and she climbed up on the comforter, looking back at me anxiously.
Shrugging off my robe, I let it fall next to the bed, leaving me in thong panties as well. Mine were black while the ones I had given her were a deep crimson. Her eyes widened as she saw I had nothing on to cover my breasts, but I just blew her a kiss as I also climbed on the bed then slid under the covers. The thunder cracked again, closer now, and she whimpered, pressing her face into my shoulder, her body curled next to mine. I held her, stroking her hair, whispering that it was okay, that she was safe, that I had her.
Then the power went out.
The air conditioning died with a wheeze, and almost immediately the heat started pressed in, thick and suffocating. That piece of shit trailer had almost no insulation. The storm had broken the heat wave, but inside the trailer, with no air moving, the temperature started climbed. After half an hour, I could feel sweat start prickling on my skin, feel Amelia’s body warm next to mine, but at least she had stopped shivering.
“I had to get you out of these wet things,” I said softly. “Or you’d get sick.”
She nodded against my shoulder, still too frightened to argue, too trusting to question. I pulled her in tighter, until her face was laying on the top of my breast. Mine were a little bigger than hers, having C cups instead of B’s. As lightning flashed, followed almost immediately by thunder, I asked her, “Do you want to take that top off like me? It’s going to get really hot in here.”
It was a pathetic attempt, but it worked. She immediately leaned up and pulled the camisole up and over her head, tossing it to the floor beside the bed. Then she lay back down, snuggling up tight against me, with her head laying on my breast and her arm draped across my stomach below them. Another boom of thunder rolled over the trailer, and she flinched and pulled in even tighter.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered into the darkness. “I’m being such a baby. I just ... I’ve always been scared of storms. Ever since I was little.”
“You’re not being a baby,” I said, turning to face her. I could see her eyes in the darkness, wide and reflecting the occasional flash of lightning. “You’re being human, and you’re here with me. You’re safe.”
We lay there in silence for a while longer, the thunder still rolling around us, the rain pounding on the roof like drums. Then she spoke again, her voice even softer, barely audible.
“The other night,” she said. “When I stayed over. Did you ... did you hear me?”
My heart stopped, then started again, hammering. “Yes,” I admitted, because there was no point in lying, not now, not in the darkness with her body inches from mine. “I heard you ... and I think you heard me.”
She was quiet for a long moment, then, “I couldn’t help it. I heard you and I ... I had to. I’ve never done that before, with someone else in the room. Knowing they could hear. It made it ... it made it better. Is that wrong?”
“No,” I whispered, reaching out to touch her face in the darkness. My fingers found her cheek, her jaw, her lips. She did not pull away. “It’s not wrong. It’s natural. It’s beautiful.”
I moved closer, until our bodies were practically melded togther, until I could feel the heat radiating off her skin. “Amelia,” I said, my voice thick. “Have you ever ... have you been with anyone? A boy? A girl? Anyone?”
She shook her head against the pillow, her breath quickening. “No. Never. I’ve never even ... I mean, I’ve touched myself, obviously, but I’ve never ... no one has ever touched me. No one has ever seen me. I’m ... I’m a virgin. Completely. Other than our kisses, I mean. I lied about fooling around on a couch before.”
I could hear the fear in her voice, the shame, the worry that she was inadequate, broken, frigid like they said. I could also hear the longing, the desperate want to be known, to be touched, and to be finally seen.
“Do you want me to?” I asked, my fingers still on her face, tracing her lips, her throat, the hollow above her collarbone. “Do you want me to touch you, Amelia? Do you want me to show you what it feels like?”
She was trembling again, but not from the storm. From fear. From desire. From the overwhelming weight of the moment.
“Yes,” she whispered. “But I’m scared. I’m so scared, Paige. What if I do it wrong? What if I’m bad at it? What if you don’t like me?”
I kissed her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. “You could never do it wrong,” I murmured. “And we will go slow ... so slow. You tell me to stop, and I’ll stop. You tell me to slow down, and I’ll slow down. This is yours, Amelia. This is for you.”
I pulled back the sheet, exposing us to the stifling air, and I took her hand in mine. I guided it down her own body, across her breasts, then down to her underwear. “Touch yourself,” I whispered. “Show me how you like it, and I’ll watch. I’ll learn.”
She hesitated, her hand stiff under mine, then slowly, tentatively, she began to move. I watched her face in the lightning flashes, watched her eyes close, her lips part, and her breath hitch as she found her own rhythm. I kept my hand over hers, guiding her, learning the pressure she liked, the speed, the angle.
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