My Drunk Friend's Story
Copyright© 2022 by NotReallyAshamed
Chapter 1
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This is a confession, but it is not my confession. A friend of mine unloaded on me after I got him stinking, crying drunk at a dive bar. I've taken his disjointed, sometimes barely-coherent narrative, as I remember it, and rewritten it into a story.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual True Story Incest Mother Son Masturbation
I’m a fuckup, dude. I’m disgusted with myself. Just kill me now. No, really. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. I ... yeah, well. It’s true. It’s all true. I ... fuck. You’re right to look horrified. It’s disgusting. I’m disgusting. I know.
I’m drunk. Fuck, I’m drunk. I don’t give a fuck anymore.
Thanks for not fucking kicking me to the curb. You’re all I got now ... I ... fuck. Thanks for being a good friend. I mean that. Really.
Yeah, so ... I won’t lie to you. She caught me. She’s telling the truth. Don’t get angry at her. Yeah, I know. She ... she caught us red-handed. OK, not red-handed, I mean [nervous laugh] ... OK, you really want to know? Fine. Fuck it. We were both naked and I was on the couch and she was on top of me and [sob] I was inside her. She caught us like that. I can’t hardly deny it now, can I? She saw what she saw. I don’t blame her for telling everyone. Fuck, my life is fucking over.
Look, you know, Sheila and I haven’t ... haven’t been doing all that well. It’s been, like, two years. A guy gets a bit crazy with no sex at all, y’know?
Sheila was just never super into it. I figured after we married we’d get into the groove but didn’t happen. She only ever wanted to do it when we were trying to get pregnant, basically once a week, only Saturday night, except when she was on the rag.
Even then it was like, she tolerated it, at best. I wanted to make love to her, you know? I loved her [sob]. And she’d come to bed and turn out the light, because God knows she wasn’t going to let me see her naked, and I’d start stroking her and she’d just lie there like a toppled statue.
Eventually she’d spread her legs and I’d try to touch her down there and she wasn’t havin’ any of that. She wouldn’t touch me, either. All I was allowed to do was put it in, and if I took more than a minute I got the feeling she was getting impatient.
Shit, got to the point where I could barely stay hard with her. Like, I wouldn’t jerk off for a week so that at least I could get in there and finish fast enough for her. Plus, you know, to improve our chances.
After we found out we couldn’t get pregnant ... oh, you didn’t know? Yeah, we tried like that for a few years and finally went to a doctor a couple years ago. Doctor did tests, me and her, and said: ain’t gonna happen. My fault, I was shooting blanks.
I didn’t really think it mattered that much, figured we could adopt or something, but Sheila took it really hard. She got depressed, quit her job, laying around the house all day, always pissed at me. I’m like walking on eggshells all the time. Didn’t dare mention adoption, she’d freak out every time.
Yeah, so, of course, hard stop on the sex too. After we got back from the doctor we never did it again, not once. That’s right, I haven’t slept with Sheila in two years.
It killed me. She’d be laying around, sometimes without even a top on — was weird, you know? She never wanted me to see her naked at all before. Used to get dressed in the bathroom with the door locked, I could hear it click.
But when she got all depressed, she got sloppy; didn’t even bother getting dressed at all lots of times. Of course I would get turned on seeing her lying there like that, like just in her panties with her tits just hanging out. She’s still pretty, I can still see why I fell for her. But God forbid I should go over and sit down next to her, stroke her shoulders, her hair, something like that. Just seemed to piss her off. So eventually I stopped even trying.
Then, you know, about six months of this and I’m just starting to think I should just give up and find someone, have an affair. I mean, I love Sheila, but I didn’t sign up to be celibate for life, you know? And the fuckin’ pandemic happens. All of a sudden it’s like there’s no fuckin’ escape. Can’t even leave the house. Don’t even have an excuse, the office is closed, we all gotta work from home.
It felt like ... I felt like an animal in a trap. Couldn’t even gnaw my foot off. Sheila’s still sleeping in the bed with me, no idea why, but absolutely no touching allowed. Got to the point that I didn’t really even want to go to bed.
I never was that into computer shit before, used to spend the whole day at the office in front of a screen using Excel, boring as fuck, why would I want to be on a computer at home? But I had to get a camera to do meetings and, you know, eventually I start looking around at what else I can do, you know, obviously watch porn and shit, but whenever I do there are these ads popping up for, you know, talk to hot women live, and I assume they’re all scams, but I try one site and it’s actually for real?
They’ve got hundreds and hundreds of these rooms, each a different woman, or a couple, or a guy, lots of trannies actually. Some even pretty hot. They’re real all right, you can chat with them and they’ll write back to you, sometimes some of them will even do things you suggest. But it helps if you give them tips.
You gotta have tokens, like, to give tips, and to lots of girls you basically don’t exist unless you tip them. Fair enough. At first I’m just watching them chat with other guys, jerkin’ off, wishing I could get involved.
Eventually I figured I could buy some tokens — worst that could happen is the site is a scam and I call my credit card company and say I was hacked. But, no, it’s legit, I bought a hundred bucks worth of tokens and they didn’t charge me twice or anything like that. So now every night I’m sitting in my office and chatting with the girls and jerkin’ off.
I’m not stupid, I know they don’t give a shit about me, just the tips, but to me, it’s worth it, you know? I’ve got nothing better to do. Don’t want to go lie in bed next to Sheila snoring away and know I can’t even put my arms around her.
So every night I talk to a different girl, sometimes a bunch of them, until I find the one I want to give tips to. Eventually I realize, don’t go in the rooms that are listed first, with hundreds or thousands of people, go straight to the end of the list, where the rooms are mostly empty. The girls there, OK, they’re not all super-hot model types, but I like that they’re real. They each have a different story, sure, some of them don’t want to talk, or have shitty personalities, but I can always go to the next room.
And just being friendly and asking questions, not acting like a jerk, I end up talking to lots of interesting people. And, you know, sometimes it’s someone in Africa or South America or Russia or somewhere, sometimes from the accent they’re clearly here in the US somewhere, but either way I’m not thinking about meeting them, just talking, watchin’ them naked or half-naked and slowly edgin’ myself. When I get tired I maybe give them a tip to do something just for me, touch herself or show me something and I finish myself off watching that.
I’ve never really had a “type,” you know? Short, tall, fat, thin, doesn’t really matter that much, as long as they’re nice, and female. Hell, I even talked to some of the trannies. Shouldn’t call them that, I know. The trans women.
Got to talking to some of them and I’m not even thinking “this is a guy with tits” anymore, they’re women, period. I never thought about it much before but they’re women just like someone born that way, they just had to fix a little mistake. One of the biggest orgasms I had was just jerking together with one of them, we talked for a couple hours, she invited me into a private room and we watched each other on camera.
I thought, holy shit, if I could meet her in person, I’d suck her dick, I’d jerk her off, I’d even marry her. Well, if it weren’t for Sheila. No problem at all. I like this person. Dick or not, this was someone I could be with, I mean sexually too.
When I came, I came so hard I got it all over the screen. She’s one of the ones I would come back and talk with many nights, but after a couple months I suddenly stopped seeing her online. I hope she’s OK. I have no idea how to contact her off the site.
Most of the time, though, I found myself talking with a particular type, older women with a comfortable, natural look to them. I guess it was partly that there tended to be a lot of them in the back pages of the site, the empty rooms. But also a lot of them were just ... nice. I guess they appreciated having a younger guy want to talk to them, not just rudely ask them to do shit, and they had interesting life stories, and ... it was just fun being with them.
I mean, yeah, they’re sitting there in lingerie on a bed, or even naked, and I’m watching them and jerking off slowly, but at the same time, we’re actually connecting a little, you know? I mean, again, I’m not stupid, I know I’m not going to meet them, I’m just a source of income for them, but ... it’s still two real human beings talking.
And when I was getting close, I’d tell them how beautiful they were, like I would if I were really making love to a woman, if like Sheila wasn’t a fuckin’ ice statue, and when I came at the end of every evening, I really felt this surge of happiness for a while, like, even over the fucking internet, even if I had to pay to do it, I just shared something intimate with this 50-year-old woman.
Anyway, that’s was basically my life for a year and a half. Before I ruined it with, you know. It sucked, but it could have been be worse. I always figured when the pandemic was over, maybe I’d think about leaving Sheila, finding someone who actually believed that sex was important in a relationship. I mean, I love her as a person, yes, but I’m 24, I can’t live the rest of my life this way, like a monk, y’know?
And I have a decent job, and thank God we didn’t get pregnant, I’m thinking. But that wasn’t going to happen for a while. Sheila got paranoid even when I just went out shopping, even though I wore a mask and all, like I was going to bring back the virus and kill us. She always wanted to order food in, which, OK, I don’t mind once in a while, but it gets boring after a while.
But at least I did go shopping sometimes. Sheila barely got up from the couch all day. I tried to get her to come out with me at least, but no dice. About the only place she would come along was when I went to visit my mom. Which we did a lot, because I didn’t want my mom going out. She’s 55 and she’s definitely somewhat overweight, and everyone’s saying that’s a high risk. So we’d bring her groceries and stuff.
Funny, Sheila always acted much more chill when we were over there, almost as if everything was normal and OK at home. Obviously we weren’t gonna talk about our sex life, or lack of one, at my mom’s but at least there she would behave sort of like she didn’t resent my very existence.
It was at times like that that I thought maybe there was some hope, like, she was just pissed at me for being sterile and would get over it eventually and we’d have a normal life. But then, you know, we’d get back home and she’d be as frigid as ever. “Don’t touch me” when I tried to in bed, stuff like that. So, I’d get up and go back to the cam site to get off.
And the cam site was great. I probably spent a bit more money than I should have but nothing really crazy, maybe a couple thousand bucks since I started. It was worth it. I was glad to send tips to these women that I liked and that would let me masturbate to them, even masturbate with me. Fuck it, I’m not ashamed to admit it.
But one girl really, really fucked me over. You didn’t find out, but ... well, anyway, it was about a month ago. Like I said I mostly hung out with older women on the site, but one night there was this real stunner right there on the last page. Tall, thin, small tits, Asian, looked like she was maybe 20.
She was completely nude in the preview picture, couldn’t believe she didn’t have a hundred people in her room already. I went into her room not thinking I’d be there for more than a few minutes, honestly I wasn’t even jerking yet, but I did end up talking to her. And I couldn’t believe it, she actually wanted to do a one-on-one, not even asking for a tip.
I was stupid. I was a fucking idiot, dude. Fuck me. I went in and jerked off while she fingered herself and we came at the same time. At least she pretended to come, probably faked it. We kept talking for a while and I felt like we had a lot in common. She asked me to look for her the next day, and I did.
So, after about a week of talking to Ria — that was her name on the site, not her real name, I’m sure — and jerking off together every night, I was starting to think maybe she liked me, maybe we’d even meet some day. Like I said, I’m a fucking idiot. But she’d never even asked me for tips, it didn’t seem like she was trying to scam me.
We had actual, intelligent conversations - music, books we had both read, all sorts of stuff. She was a real fucking person, and an interesting one to boot. She was probably the smartest person I’d talked to all year, to be honest. When it turned out that she’d gone to the same college as me, and we’d just missed each other, I’d graduated the year she started, I was hooked. We even had some of the same professors. She seemed ... I started to feel like, yeah, we were meant to be, we’d just missed each other and now we had another chance.
I wasn’t even asking myself, what was she doing on a sex cam site. After all, I was there too. Maybe, like me, she was lonely, and we’d just lucked out and found each other.
By this point we weren’t even doing anything else on the site, just talking in private all evening. Yeah, we’d masturbate together every night at the end, but mostly we were just talking about anything and everything. I was totally honest with her, she knew I was married and wasn’t getting any and thinking about leaving eventually and had a good job and all that.
And one night I asked her if, maybe, after all the craziness was over, perhaps we could meet. And she asked me where I lived, and I told her, and it turned out she was only one state over, so, yeah, totally doable.
I was too fucking caught up in this fantasy that we could maybe meet and have a real relationship. It didn’t even occur to me that it was always me volunteering information first. Like, anyone can look on a college website. Did she even go to the same college as me, or was she just clever enough to look up a few professors’ names and drop them to make it seem she had?
I’ll never know, but when I think back, I don’t think she ever said anything that she couldn’t have figured out from what I said and a bit of Googling. I don’t even know if she really lives where she said she did. Probably not.
Anyway, eventually, we exchanged phone numbers. And email addresses. And, fuck my life, she found me on Facebook, which as you know I never even fuckin’ use, even though she didn’t know my last name. Probably you can do that with a phone number or email, I don’t know.
She sent me a friend request, and I didn’t reply right away, because like I said, I don’t even use that shit, but, you know, Sheila does, and she’d see if I accepted. I was going to explain to Ria that night that I wasn’t really into social media, but I didn’t get a chance to, because she wasn’t on the cam site that night.
But there was an email. And it said that I needed to pay her $10,000 or she would send videos of me jerking off on camera to Sheila and my work and everyone else on my friends list on Facebook. And there were screenshots from the video in the email.
So, yeah, fuck. So first thing I do of course is go on and delete my Facebook account. I guess I didn’t have the privacy set up properly, so even though I didn’t accept Ria’s invitation she could still see who my friends were. I basically almost never logged into Facebook or any of that social media stuff but I’d always accepted people when they wanted to be friends, so there were a lot of people on my list.
Of course I knew deleting probably wouldn’t do any good if Ria already knew Sheila’s name and our last name and where I worked — that was on my profile — and basically everything else about me. But maybe she didn’t?
Stupidly, I thought I could try to reason with Ria. I tried calling her, but the phone number she’d given me didn’t even exist. Then I replied to her email and asked her to call me, and she did. No caller ID, but it was her, I recognized her voice.
She was stone fucking cold. Told me I had a week, and when I was ready she’d tell me how to get the money to her, and not to try to go to the police or anything or she’d send the videos out right away. Then she hung up.
I didn’t pay, of course. Maybe I should have. I didn’t reply to her emails and when she phoned again (I assumed it was her when it came up as no caller ID again) I didn’t answer. I figured there was a good chance she was bluffing and wouldn’t do what she was threatening to.
I figured wrong. It took a couple of weeks, but eventually I heard a shriek from the living room one evening and when I went down to find out what the fuck was going on, Sheila was staring at a video of me on her laptop, pants down and jerking it as I moaned Ria’s name.
Fuck my life, she was actually crying about it. I tried to defend myself — what did she expect me to do when we hadn’t so much as kissed in almost two years — but she kept saying that she had trusted me, and I’d betrayed her, and of course I felt like shit about it.
I’d never wanted to hurt her, and I’d always figured that masturbating with women online was, if not exactly something to be proud about, at least an outlet that kept me sane and prevented me from just getting up and leaving Sheila to her misery. But I was uncomfortably aware that I had just a couple of weeks ago been thinking about meeting Ria and maybe even leaving Sheila for her.
I tried to suppress that thought. I swore to Sheila that I’d never physically cheated on her — true — and that, yes, I’d jerked off online on a cam site, but it was just a way to relieve sexual needs that I could hardly help feeling, since we never made love. I didn’t let on how much I’d done it or how much I spent or that Ria had tried to blackmail me. Let her think I just got unlucky.