Laundry Day
Copyright© 2026 by MicaMeesha
Chapter 3
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 3 - It is laundry day, and I tackle my son's room, eurgh! His hormones are certainly in full flow; his bed is so crusty...
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Incest Son Group Sex Anal Sex Oral Sex
“I have something bizarre to tell you,” Paul said as we sat down in the lounge. Dinner was finished and the dirty dishes were all in the dishwasher. Mik, our son, was up in his room on his PlayStation; we were alone and could talk.
“Oh, go on, then, freak me out.”
“Whilst you were at Tesco, Jill came around.”
I had an idea what this was going to be. “Oh, is she alright?”
“Oh, yes, she’s fine, and so, before you ask, is Jim. She had a very strange request that, she said, you approved.”
“Oh?”
“She said that you had told her that I had shaved my dick and balls and that you were okay if she asked me if I would show it to her.”
“What? Oh, hang on, yes, I remember. When I mentioned that you were shaved down there, just like I am, she said that she would love to see a shaved dick. I told her that, as it was your dick, not mine, she should ask you if she could see it, not me.
“So, she did; she asked if she could see my dick.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked her why; my dick was just like any other dick.”
“She said that she had never seen a dick that had been shaved, and she wondered if it looked as different on a man as a woman’s shaved fanny did on a woman.”
“What did you say to that?”
“I said that I didn’t know. A dick was a dick, shaved or not.”
“Oh.” Lord, but he was taking his time to tell me.
“She said that she didn’t know and that she would like to see; would I show her mine?”
“And did you show her? Your dick, I mean.”
“Yes. I grabbed my trousers and underpants by the waist and pulled them straight down. There I was standing in the kitchen with the kettle boiling and my dick and balls on display.”
“Were you hard?”
“God, no, I mean, I was just, you know, softish.”
“What did Jill say?”
“She said it was beautiful, and could she touch it? And as she said that, she reached forward and held my dick. Well, you can imagine what happened.”
“I don’t suppose you stayed softish?”
“Hell no, I was rock hard in a second. She tightened her hand around it and started to move her hand, you know.”
“Wanking you.”
“Yes. She said, “Oops, I didn’t expect that.” She was sorry, and would I like to, you know, let her take care of it for me?”
“I wonder what she meant by ‘take care’?”
“Oh,” she explained; she said I could fuck her if it would help.
“Bloody hell, Jill. Did you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, exceptional circumstances and all that.”
“She lifted her dress with her other hand and showed me her shaved fanny. ‘I am ready for you,’ she said. I stepped back, and my dick fell from her hand. I said that was a very nice fanny, but that yours was the only fanny that I shagged, and could I get dressed now? Had she finished looking?”
“Okay, good choice.”
“Not for Jill; she asked if she was ugly, if she was not worth fucking, and she started to cry.”
“What did you do?”
“You know I am useless when women cry?”
“Yes. You shagged her.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Do you want to shag her again?”
“No. I didn’t want to today.”
“But you did. How did it feel?”
“What do you mean, ‘How did it feel?”
“Her fanny, compared to mine, did it feel different?”
“Look, I shoved my dick in her as she was bent over the work surface, and I shagged her as quickly as I could. I wasn’t taking notes for comparison. It was a fanny, simple as.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
We watched some cooking reality show; it was really becoming tiresome. I thought that the hosts were long past their use-by date; it was time to refresh the whole thing. It was, however, a distraction from discovering that my husband had fucked my neighbour. I wondered how he would have reacted if it had been me telling him that I had shagged Jim, Jill’s husband. I really didn’t know how he would react.
We locked the house and went upstairs. Paul went to the ensuite first, while I pulled the bedding back and then undressed. As he walked back into the bedroom, his dick was hard and sticking forward.
“Is that for me?” I asked.
“If you want it, it isn’t for anyone else; that is for sure.”
“I’ll be back in a moment,” I said. In the ensuite I cleaned my teeth and gave my fanny and bum a thorough wash. I touched my crease; I was moistening up. Good, no one likes a dry fanny.
Paul was lying on his back on the bed, his dick pointing up at the ceiling. I got onto the bed and straddled him, my face to his feet. I took his dick in my hand, wiped it up and down my crease and slowly settled down on him. I love how his dick stretched my fanny, and I loved that I was as deep as he was long. As I settled down on his thighs, his dick was pressing at my depth.
I felt full; it was a wonderful feeling. I leant forwards, my fanny riding along his dick; Paul would have had a great view of his dick in my fanny. I could feel my petals wrapping around his shaft, his foreskin rolling along it to cover his rim. I rocked back, his rim uncovered and scraped over my bumps and ridges, and I realised I was gasping.
As I looked down between my legs, I could see his balls jiggling between his thighs as I shagged his dick; it made me smile. As I rocked back and forth, Paul’s dick slid in my fanny, his rim scraped my walls, and my breath began to shorten. I was gasping; I was squeezing his legs with my fingers; my pressures were building.
I began to rock as fast as I could, rolling back and forth on his pelvis, his dick filling and emptying me. I gasped, squeezed, clamped, and cried out. Pleasures flooded me, my pressures released, and my orgasm erupted. As I was gasping and clamping, I felt the cool surge as he filled my fanny, spurt after spurt, flooding my womb. He grunted as my fingernails dug into his leg.
I eased up, and his dick fell from me with a gurgle. I gasped and rolled to lie next to him. He turned and kissed me.
“Yeah, I think you have the edge over her,” he said and then cried out as I thumped him.
Paul had gone to play football, as he does most Sundays. He usually then goes to the pub and gets back home around three. That’s his relaxation, his time with ‘the boys’. I usually get on with the Sunday dinner, which I usually aim to get ready for at around five.
I had put a load of laundry on and was just thinking of making a cup of tea when Mik sauntered in, his dressing gown barely secured.
“Morning, Mum.”
“Morning, sweetheart.”
“Remember my friends that I mentioned? Well, they are coming around this morning.”
“Friends? What friends?”
“Oh, you know, the ones that want you.”
“What? Well, don’t get any ideas; I said no.”
“But things have changed since then, Mum, and I am sure that you will want to say yes.”
He walked up and put his arms around me, pressing himself against me. His dick was hard; to be fair, it seemed always to be hard, and he pressed it against me. He moved his hands between us, and I felt him undoing the sash on my dressing gown and pulling it apart.
I gasped as his fingers slipped in between my lips and slid down my valley, pressing at my entrance.
“Mik,” I gasped.
He pulled his robe apart, picked me up by my bottom and then lowered me onto his dick. I gasped again as I felt his foreskin slide inside me and his rim scrape against my fanny walls. He didn’t move, he didn’t shag, he just held me on his dick.
“Good, you are ready; my mates will be pleased.” He lifted me up and put me back onto the floor. I was about to remonstrate with him when the doorbell rang.
“That’ll be them,” he said, doing up his dressing gown and going to the door.
I hastily retied my dressing gown, ensuring nothing was visible to anyone. I was all of a dither. I had told him that I would not accommodate his friends, but it seems he was just going to ignore that. I hadn’t yet showered, so I still had some of Paul’s semen from last night inside me, although a lot had dribbled out. I had left the bed uncovered to allow it to dry.
I heard Mik talking to his friends, and then he came back into the kitchen.
“They are in the front room getting ready. Shall we go through? Getting ready for you. Oh, you don’t need that dressing gown on.”
He walked over to me and undid my sash and pulled my dressing gown off, putting it onto the work surface. Taking my hand, he led me to the lounge. I was speechless, naked, and speechless.
In the lounge were three naked young men, all around Mik’s age. Their dicks were hard and, as with Mik, pointed upwards, not forwards like Paul’s. I was nervous; I was uncertain of what Mik intended, although, really, I did know. I was expected to have sex with all these young men.
Mik sat on the sofa and pulled me to him. He manoeuvred me so I was facing him. He pulled me down, and his dick slipped into my fanny. I felt his foreskin roll back, and then I felt him at my depth. It was, of course, a very nice feeling; it is just the circumstances that I disliked.
“Ralph,” Mik said, “you take her arse. Suresh, her mouth, and Mum, you’ll have to use your hand on John.”