Chapter 3

A bit later, as we finished up a bit of a lazy lunch of Christmas Eve leftovers (fish, of course, given our Italian heritage), I felt Aunt Sylvia brush up against me and playfully stroke the outside of my pajama bottoms. Yeah, I was a bit casually dressed, but it was a relatively small, more quiet family holiday when I didn’t have to go anywhere. When she snuck her fingers down the front of my PJs, there was no mistaking her intent to cock tease me.

“You know what I want, honey. Just follow me. We’ll be back in time, I swear. We all have to take turns watching the brats while the others have more ... mature fun, if you catch my drift. Come on, studmuffin. I have to warn you, though. You’re definitely getting your father’s sloppy seconds, just as I’m getting your mother’s. Not a bad thing, baby,” Aunt Sylvia told me as she all but dragged me back to the master bedroom and closed the door.

Before I realized it, my pants were down and Aunt Sylvia was on her knees, sucking me as if her life depended upon it. It was clear what she intended, of course. She wanted to get me hard and ready for that sweet pussy of hers again. That wasn’t difficult, of course. I had enough time since boning Mom to get it up again. If anything, I felt my libido increasing since last night. That had to be the chalice at work, right?

In no time, Aunt Sylvia was on the bed on her back, her legs in the air and soon on my shoulders as I drove deep inside her lusty gash. We humped for several minutes in the missionary position, with her short, but still luxuriant legs barely holding onto my shoulders, mostly the feet in fact. It wasn’t really her best position, though, and we soon realized it, resulting in my decision to flip her over to take her from behind. She winked over her shoulders at me to make it plain that she reveled in this act.

“It’s for the best, anyway. It gives you a better shot at breeding me, of course. Between you and your old man, there’s a pretty good chance of knocking me up, just as I hoped. You’ve almost certainly impregnated Pamela, though your father does have a slim chance of it. Not to feel any pity for him. He’s already put plenty of buns in other ovens. God knows that your uncle never could!” Aunt Sylvia confirmed in her lusty voice that Uncle Travis’s swimmers were slow.

Or fish or tadpoles didn’t swim or whatever. The point was clear enough. Uncle Travis couldn’t breed anyone for some reason. They must have tried at some point, but it never took. So what did that mean about Henry? Whose son was he? Apparently, Uncle Travis had made his peace with that fact, of course, raising Henry and all. There was no way that he didn’t know or at least suspect by now. As randy as he was, he should have had at least one bastard like Dad by now.

“Uncle Travis is sterile? Who made Henry with you, then? Not that I mind. It means less of a competition to breed you, after all. It’s just between me and my old man here, I guess. You’re gonna either give me a sibling who is also a cousin or a brat of my own. Justin’s no mystery, of course. Who made Pamela, for that matter?” I asked Aunt Sylvia while humping her like crazy and bottoming out in her slippery slit.

“Henry ... and Pamela ... they’re both ... your father’s. Yes, you heard that right. They’re actually your half-siblings as well as your cousins. It’s high time that you learned the truth. You might well have bred your own half-sister, imagine that! As I said, don’t worry about your old man. He’s had plenty of chances to spread his seed ... and oh, have his loins been ever fruitful!” Aunt Sylvia told me with very hungry strokes with her hips as she met me to take more of that dick inside her.

“So, only Justin ... is not Dad’s, is that right, then ... of all of us offspring in the house ... only Justin is by someone else. Wow ... does Mom know? Was Uncle Drew involved in this kind of play with you, Mom, Dad, and all that? Just tell me the truth, please,” I had to know the facts now.

For some reason, I really wanted to know this stuff while plowing my auntie doggy-style, prone-boned as she was on the marriage bed. There were clearly a lot of wild, kinky family secrets that were just starting to surface like some kind of sex submarine or whatnot. What else would I learn about my own family, skeletons in the closet that remained concealed from my now maturing gaze?

“Oh, yes, your mother definitely knows ... and approves. She has pretty much signed off on all of your Dad’s affairs ... but one. That was Jeanette, of course. He didn’t realize that she actually disapproved, because she never told him, so he thought that all was well. Soon enough, your mother accepted her own blame in failing to communicate her ‘veto,’ if you will, of the whole Jeanette deal.

“As for ... Uncle Drew ... he wasn’t just my husband. He was Uncle Travis’s lover, his beau, if you will, and Uncle Travis often joined us in bed prior to Uncle Drew’s demise. Devil’s threesomes. In case you missed it, Uncle Travis is ... bi, just like you. Your father, however, is straight as a barbershop razor. Not the slightest hint of anything even slightly gay, even once.