Chapter 1 : The Intervention

My husband and I were worried that our 14-year-old daughter’s strong sexual urges were going to lead her into promiscuous, even dangerous, behavior. Our solution: let her seduce her father so that he could provide a safe, secure outlet for those sexual urges. Unfortunately, my husband’s focusing all his energies on keeping our libidinous daughter safe resulted in me being neglected - and very unsatisfied. But then I realized – our daughter has a handsome brother, and I thought, “sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose.”

I’m sitting up in bed watching the last few minutes of “The Tonight Show.” My gorgeous husband is lying here next to me, snoring. His snoring isn’t that loud, really, and I find the gentle sound reassuring.

Actually, my “gorgeous husband” used to be my gorgeous son. In fact, he still is – both my gorgeous son and my “legal” husband. Well, sort of...

It’s a long story...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It all began because I was worried about our daughter, Keri. You see, she’s always shown an inordinate interest in her “private parts,” even when she was quite young. Then, as she got older and began to “bloom” – about the age of 11 or 12 – she was starting to get a lot of attention from the boys. And I’m not talking about just the 11- and 12-year-old boys here. And not just teenagers. Older men, too – including a few of our adult friends.

I was worried, plain and simple. With her emerging beauty and budding body, combined with her life-long devotion to physical gratification, I was afraid there was the distinct possibility that our beautiful, kind, smart daughter could become a slut. And I don’t mean just “fooling around” or getting a bad reputation. I mean the kind who could end up jeopardizing her own health and physical safety with her pleasure-seeking behavior.

And that’s why, believe it or not, I got a glimmer of hope when it dawned on me that she had been trying to exhibit herself to her father, my husband, Al.

Okay, yeah, sure – teenage girls aren’t supposed to have any physical interest in their fathers (or, if you speak to most parents, any physical interest whatsoever, other than soccer, perhaps; but that ship sailed a long time ago). So, if you’re going to be militantly practical about it, maybe it’s better that Keri focuses her flashing and exhibitionism on her father, who is safe and known and won’t ever hurt her.

So I asked my husband about it.

“Al, have you noticed? I mean, how Keri seems to be trying to get you to notice her – physically?” I waited to see if he would pick up on it.

“Not sure what you mean, Hon.” Nope, no help there. Guess I’d have to spell it out for him.

“Haven’t you noticed little things, like how she doesn’t completely close the bathroom door when she showers, or how she uses just a towel instead of her robe when she’s going from the shower to her room? Or how she prances around in her shortest, oldest, thinnest T-shirts when she thinks it’s just you and her alone in the house, or wearing pajamas that were too small on her a year ago?

“Al, she wants you to notice her, and by that I mean she wants you to look at her body.”

Now that the issue was out in the open, he was forced to admit it.

“Yeah, I kinda noticed that. I think I’ve tried to tell myself that it’s my imagination, but yeah, now that you spell it out like that – yeah, I think she’s trying to flash me.”

“The thing is, Al,” and I wasn’t sure how far to go with this – whether I was right, and if I was, how far I wanted to take the matter. “Al, the thing is – I think that what she wants is, I think she doesn’t just want you to see her – I think she wants you...,” and I couldn’t bring myself to say the rest. But I had to.

“Al, Al, ... you know how ... you know how much she ... she likes to ... touch herself ... even when she was really young..., and Al, what I think is ... I think she wants to... seduce you...”

“Marie, Hon, that’s crazy! There’s no way that she’s trying to seduce me. I mean, why would she even want me when there are so many guys right now who’d...,” and then it hit him. Yes, there are so many guys right now who’d like to ... to do physical things with our daughter – his daughter.

“You understand now, Al? With her looks, and the changes in her body, and the way that boys and ... and others... look at her. Al, I’m afraid she could become downright... promiscuous is the nice way of putting it...,” and I watched him as the whole scenario I was describing unfolded for him, and he knew that I wasn’t being irrational, and to the contrary, my concerns were entirely too realistic.

“So I get everything you’re saying, Marie, and I can’t disagree with you about any of it. But where does that leave us? I mean, the way you’ve laid it out, it sounds ... almost inevitable, that this is what’s gonna happen.” I could tell that he understood now, and that he shared – shares – my beliefs, and, consequently, my fears about our daughter and her future.

“So, is there anything we can do about it, Marie? I mean, what can we do...?”

This is a man of boundless enthusiasm and perpetual optimism. Yet he was stumped – had no ideas at all about what he has in a matter of minutes come to accept as a serious problem, a potential threat to our daughter and her well-being.

In other words, he might just be at the point where he’s willing to hear my idea, my “crazy” solution to our dilemma.

“Al, this might sound crazy, but ... Al ... I think that, maybe ... maybe we should ... that you should ... that you should... let her.”

“Huh?” not comprehending where I was going.

“I think maybe you should let her ... that you should let her seduce you ... that you and she should have sex...” And I waited for him to understand, and to react to my idea – and to respond.

And I was actually pleased when he didn’t react immediately. He stood, and he thought, then started to say something but stopped. Then he finally said,

“I think I understand what you’re getting at, Hon. What you’re saying is, you think it would be better for her to get her ... urges ... satisfied ... by me, here, rather than by ... whoever...”

I knew he would understand. “Yes, that’s right – I think it would be better if she got those urges satisfied with you, at home, rather than ... rather than with whoever might be out there, someone who might be inclined to...,” I couldn’t even make myself say the words, “ ... someone who might not be as careful with our daughter as ... as her father.”

He thought some more.

“But Marie, that’s...”

“That’s incest. Yeah, I know that. And that it’s wrong.” I paused to let him know that I understood his concern. “But Al – can you come up with anything else for her that doesn’t involve either mutilative surgery or placing her in a convent?” Then I thought for a moment. “And even in a convent, our Keri would be easy pickings for some dyke nuns.

“So Al, let’s think about it, OK?”

So several days passed, and we thought about it. And for the life of us, we couldn’t think of anything better. In fact, the whole idea seemed to take on a curious logic of it’s own.

And once we decided that this was the only practical solution to the Keri situation, making it happen was as easy as we thought – and feared – it would be.

Fortunately, Keri’s dad is good-looking and he’s reasonably fit. And perhaps even more important, he’s a terrific lover. He’ll teach our daughter well and give her more pleasure than she could ever get from ... whoever.

Also, and perhaps most important, he is blessed with fantastic stamina – maybe even enough to meet the needs of a horny fifteen year old girl.

So all we had to do was to let it be known that Kyle, Keri’s one-year-younger brother, and I would be away for the entire weekend attending a regional swim meet. Kyle swims in three individual events and two team relays. He’s really good, and it’s always fun to watch him compete. It’s also an opportunity to get together with the other swim moms (and a few dads, too). Also, it’s a great opportunity to ogle all those extremely fit young men in their tight Speedos with their prominent bulges – including that of my own son.

We called home after we got to the motel Friday night – just a quick exchange to say that we’d arrived. Saturday night we had a longer conversation. Of course, I was dying to hear how – if – things had gone between Al and Keri. Al filled me in a little, but he seemed, I don’t know, like he was out of breath. He said he was “kinda busy” and that he’d “give me all the details” when we got back home Sunday.

Kyle and I had a great weekend – he won two of his individual events and finished third in the other, and his school won the 400-meter and placed second in the 800 medley.

Sunday we called from the road to let them know we’d be home in an hour. I hoped this would give Al and Keri sufficient time to “tidy up” before we got there.

As soon as we arrived home we unpacked, but I could barely contain my eagerness to know what happened. As soon as I got Kyle off and unpacking and putting his stuff from the weekend into the laundry, I dragged Al into the bedroom and shut the door.

“Well!”

According to Al, it was surprisingly easy. Or maybe not so surprisingly. Anyhow, Al said that no sooner were Kyle and I out the driveway when Keri started in on him. He said she was in the bathroom shaving her legs – she’d just begun shaving, although her leg hair is so soft and fine and light that she really doesn’t need to, but for her it’s a sign of growing up – as if she needed one more!

She yelled downstairs, telling her dad that she thought she heard his phone ringing, but then when he came upstairs he saw that she had left the bathroom door open – no surprise there – and when he passed by she told him that the ringing had stopped, but “could he help her with something else.” It seems that the towel she had draped around her had slipped off her shoulder and she asked Al to put it back on her shoulder. But then as soon as he stepped into the bathroom she let the towel slip all the way off. Al said he offered to step out of the bathroom, but as he suspected, she told him it wasn’t necessary, and in fact, she was liked that he was there.

“She asked me if I thought she was pretty, and that I should tell her the truth. I was afraid to tell her the real truth – that I wanted to bend her over the vanity and fuck the living daylights out of her – but what I said was, ‘Yes, I think you’re very pretty, Keri,’ and then to kind of move things along, I added ‘I think you’re the prettiest girl – in fact, the prettiest woman – I know, and that’s the truth,’ and I think that gave her the courage – maybe the go-ahead – to say that she was glad, because she likes me looking at her. And then she said, ‘ ... and maybe more ... than just looking... ‘

“Then she took my hand and put it on her breast, and she looked down, like she was making sure that I was looking at my hand on her breast, and then she looked up at me, in my eyes, and we both knew...

“But instead of bending her over the bathroom vanity, I took her hand and led her into the bedroom – our bedroom – and there wasn’t a whole lot of seduction. She fell back on the bed, and I got on my knees and spread her legs and started licking her pussy, and I think the little wench came in less than a minute, and after that, it was off to the races.”

Al told me how for the next two days – almost up to the minute when Kyle and I pulled into the driveway – he and our daughter had sucked and fucked and fingered each other almost constantly. He said they slept, but it was only between bouts of sex. They took time to eat, of course, but even then they got whatever they were going to eat and brought it back to bed with them, or sometimes they just fucked right in the kitchen. In fact, he said that she was sucking his cock there in the kitchen when Kyle and I were driving up the driveway.

Al told her, “Your mother figured that something like this might happen with you and me, and she’s OK with it.” He said that Keri didn’t seem to be surprised by this news, or perhaps she just didn’t care. “Anyway, I told her that we needed to keep all this from her brother, and I told her that I know Kyle is only one year younger than she is, ‘ ... but I don’t think he’s quite as... sexually interested as you are.’”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And that’s how things went. And I guess you’d have to say that our plan worked. Keri didn’t seem so interested in the attentions of the boys at school, and in fact, she seemed to be spending most of her spare time at home – with her father, behind closed doors – and not closed, if they thought that no one would see them.

And at first, Al was kind of uncertain – shaky – about the whole thing. I mean, he knew that it was our best option, and that strange as it seemed, under our circumstances we were doing the right thing. But then after a few weeks he started getting into the whole thing – and I mean really into it! He couldn’t get enough – of Keri, but also, of me. Despite the demands that Keri was putting on him, he was like a teenager again, rubbing up against me whenever we passed each other, squeezing my ass and my boobs, fingering me whenever he could, and fucking me blind – or at least trying to – every night in bed.

But of course, he wasn’t a teenager again, and after a few weeks his reawakened lust for me began to diminish. I could have been angry with him, or remained silent and bitter, but that wasn’t our deal. Remember, it was me who formulated this solution to the “Keri problem,” and this really shouldn’t have come as any surprise, and maybe it’s just something that I’ll have to live with, at least until we come up with some other strategy for Keri.

And that’s when I formulated my new strategy – not for Keri, but a new strategy for me. Remember, Keri is not the only sexually attractive young person in our home. I took my proposal to my husband.

“Al, part of our idea is working. We’ve – you’ve – managed to keep our daughter’s libido and sexual urges at home, so to speak. And I have to tell you, I was almost a nervous wreck before, worrying what she might get herself into, and with who, and what might happen to her, and ... well, anyway, now I know that whatever she’s into, she’s into it with you.”

Al was about to say something, something that would be intended to be modest and self-deprecatory but would instead come out smug and self-congratulatory. I stopped him before he could say something stupid.

“BUT ... while I don’t have to worry any more about Keri and her sexual urges, this whole thing hasn’t worked out so great for me and my sexual urges.” Al was just about to interrupt me when I said, “Shut up, Al, and listen. Because – and perhaps it’s escaped your notice – Keri is not the only sexually attractive young person in this house.” I paused, just long enough for him to be sure he heard me right. Then I said, “There – now you can talk.”

He was speechless, so I waited for him to recover.

“You mean ... are you trying to say ... are you suggesting that ... Kyle? Are ... do you mean you ... you and Kyle...? You mean ... you and Kyle having the same kind of ... thing ... the same deal that Keri and I have?”

“Bright boy, Alan – A-plus.”

“But, Marie, Kyle’s just a kid! He’s only...”

“He’s the same age as Keri was when you and she started.”

“But Keri’s ... Kyle isn’t as... precocious ... as Keri is ... was ... when she was that age.”

“He’s a teenage boy, Al, and I’ll bet he’s a quick learner – especially if he gets skilled, repeated instruction from an experienced, highly motivated teacher.”

Al thought about it some more, and I could tell that he didn’t like the idea. At all.

“Sauce for the goose, Al, sauce for the goose. You got Keri ... I get something, too.”

He couldn’t argue. All he could manage to say was, “Okay – how?”

I smiled. “I don’t think it’ll be all that hard. I’ve got an idea...”

And I felt my pussy flutter, at the “idea” of the bulge in my athlete-son’s Speedos unpacking itself, and then packing itself back inside his mother’s needy cunt.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Kyle – c’mere – you’ve got to see this.”

My son had just showered and was coming out of the bathroom. As usual after a shower, he had on his red nylon warm-up pants with the drawstring waist, and his body and his hair were still a little damp as he came down the hallway to where I was standing.

And where I was standing was just outside Keri’s room. The door was partially open, like someone had closed it, but not carefully, and it had swung open part-way.

“Come over here, Kyle – I think there’s something you might be interested in seeing.”

And what he saw was his sister’s naked back and ass as she rode up and down on her father’s cock. The way she was lifting herself, you – meaning we, Kyle and I – could see Al’s cock, and then watch it disappear into his daughter’s – Kyle’s sister’s – blond cunt. From where we were standing, we could actually see the lining of Keri’s pussy as it clung to her father’s cock each time she rose, and then see it disappear inside her when she lowered herself back onto him again.

“What the fuck, Mom??” Then realizing what he’d said, he said, “Oops – sorry, Mom. But, I mean – what the fuck??”

I tried to ease him into the explanation. I moved a little closer to him there where we were standing in the hall, and I took his arm – his bicep – in what I hoped would be a comforting gesture. It also gave me the opportunity to press one breast, naked beneath my lavender satin robe, against that same strong bicep.

“Honey, I know this comes as a bit of a shock – a pretty big shock, actually. But, well, you know how your sister is? I mean, you know that she’s always liked to ... to touch herself. And you know how she likes to flirt and have guys – and men – look at her, and how she likes to ... expose herself whenever she can...”

And there was a sign of recognition when I said this. “Yeah, I know – she’s always trying to flash me.”

I thought this might be the opening I needed.

“And when she did ... try to flash you ... did you look...?”

“Hell, yesI” But then he realized what he’d said and how it sounded and he tried to recover. “I mean, there was no way I could not see, and she was, like, standing right in front of me...”

I smiled and squeezed his arm a little tighter – and pressed my tit a little closer against him.

“It’s okay, Kyle. Your sister is kind of hot, isn’t she?”

“Hell, yes!” And then again realizing what he’d said, he added, “Yeah, I mean, I guess so.”

I smiled. I think my son has potential.

“So anyhow, you understand how your sister is, and why your father and I would be concerned. With her ... physical... tendencies, and her looks, your father and I were concerned that she might become ... promiscuous, maybe even doing reckless things, possibly even getting herself into dangerous situations. Do you understand what I’m saying, Kyle...?”

He considered a moment. “Yuh. I mean, I guess I get what you’re saying.”

“And your dad and I thought and thought, and we knew that the way your sister is, there’s no way we were going to be able to change her, so we thought that the next best thing was ... to keep it at home.” I paused to let him process what I just said. “Like with you, she was taking every opportunity to expose herself to her father, and it was our idea that maybe if ... if she was with him, then ... maybe it would keep her busy – sexually – and keep her from becoming a slut.” And I purposely used the ugly word slut.

“And it seems to be working. Since she and her father ... since they’ve been...,” and I looked toward the half-open door, “ ... since they’ve been like this, she doesn’t seem to be interested in boys or ... or other people.” And I waited.

Realizing that I was expecting him to say something, to respond to what I’d just told him, the explanation as to why we’re standing there in the hall watching his sister and her father fucking the bejeezus out of each other. Finally he said, “Yuh, yeah, okay, I guess I get it.”

“And ... how do you feel about that, Kyle?” Here was the big test, of whether he might be open to the idea of having a similar kind of “arrangement” with his own mother – with me.

“Uhh, I guess it makes sense, sorta. If you say it’s OK.”

He’s accepted it! Now to get things moving.

I looked again into the room. “They are kind of hot, aren’t they? Let’s just watch them for a while.” As I said that, I moved around behind him – where I could press both of my satin-covered tits against him, so there was no way he could miss the hard points of my swollen nipples against his bare, muscular back.

Kyle squirmed slightly when I did this, when I moved behind him, got closer. But he didn’t pull away, either. Instead, he said, “Do you think that we should be watching them like this?”

I’d already prepared the answer to this.

“I think that if they wanted privacy, Kyle, they would have closed the door.” I waited a beat. “Kyle – I think they wanted us to see them – I think they wanted us to catch them.”

“Huh? Why? Why would they wanna do that?”

By now I had moved my hands off his arms and reached around him, my arms around that trim waist and my hands clasped together – just above the loosely-knotted drawstring of his nylon warm-ups.

“I think, Kyle, I think it’s because they’re hoping that you and I will see them...,” and my next words almost stuck in my throat, “ ... that we’ll see them, and see how they’re enjoying themselves – and see how sexy it is ... and that we – that you and I will want to do something like that, like what they’re doing...”

My heart in my throat, I waited.

Kyle just made a... groaning sound, is the best I can describe it. I let my hands slide down a little farther, down his flat belly, to just above he cock,...

And I knew where his cock was, because I could feel it tenting the nylon of his pants. I let my fingers wander down a little farther, ‘til they were touching, then pressing on the top of his cock, still covered by the nylon pants.

And that’s when Al grabbed Keri by the shoulders and pulled her down and rolled both of them over, so now he was lying between her long, smooth legs, legs which immediately wrapped around him as he guided his cock into her cunt and began fucking her in earnest.

“Ohgod, Dad – that’s so good! Your cock is stretching me, it’s filling me so good! Oh fuck, fuck me, Dad!” She threw one arm around his shoulders and dug her nails into the straining muscles of his back while her other hand clawed at Al’s ass. We could see the trail of red nail marks on his buttocks.

And where my hands were, I could feel Kyle’s cock lurch and get even longer – harder – inside his warm-ups.

I whispered in his ear, “It’s so hot, watching your father and your sister like that, isn’t it, Kyle? Can you imagine something like that, Kyle – like what they’re doing? Do you think you and I would like that as much as Keri and Dad are?”

I grasped his cock through the nylon pants, and then I let go and slid my hands up. I took the drawstring between my fingers and gave it a gentle tug, and when the waistband opened, I slid my hands back to his stiff cock, but this time my hands were inside his pants, clutching, squeezing his bare cock.

So now I have my body pressed against my son’s tapered back, and my arms, both of them, are around his waist and my hands are inside his pants and I’m stroking – alright, I’m masturbating my son’s lovely cock. Only now I don’t know if he’s even aware of it, but he’s not just standing there – he’s leaning back against me some, and his hips are thrust forward, inviting me to continue jacking him off.

Almost reluctantly, I took one of my hands off his cock and reached up to his sculpted swimmer’s pects and begin toying with the stiff little nipple. He groaned again, and he began – not exactly thrusting, but easing his cock farther forward, giving me more room to ... to do what I was doing with it.

But lovely – and exciting – as this was, it was not getting us closer to my final goal. I had to take the lead.

“I’ll bet you’d like that too, wouldn’t you, Kyle – what your sister’s getting with her father. Kyle...,” I moved around where we could see each other’s faces, “Kyle, you can have what they have. We can have what they have.”

I could see it in his face. Now that I spelled it out for him, so there was no mistaking what it was that they “have” that we could have, I could see it – that he wanted it, too. But I could tell that however much he wanted “what they have,” he had no idea how he – how we – could make it happen.

“Don’t worry, Kyle – it’ll be easy, Sweetheart. Here...” Kneeling down on the hallway carpet in front of him, I took the waistband of his nylon pants in my fingers and guided them the rest of the way down his legs ‘til they lay bunched up around his bare ankles. And there, with his stiff adolescent cock sticking straight out in front of my face, I leaned forward and I took my teenage son’s cock between my fingers and guided it into my mouth.

I won’t go into a lot of detail here – you’ve read enough about blowjobs (and don’t you tell me you haven’t!). But what I do want to tell you are the thoughts that were going through my head while I was performing this very ordinary sexual act (not that my blowjobs are ordinary, by any means!). And the thoughts that were jumbled in my mind were: First, I’m sucking my son’s cock. Yes, me, a typical suburban wife and swim mom, have taken my own biological son’s penis in my mouth. And not just put it in my mouth – I’m sucking on it, and licking it, and probing, and seeing how far I can take it into my mouth before I choke on it.

Second, that this is just the start – that this is the gateway to a sexual relationship with my son, a relationship that will involve I-don’t-know-what sexual acts, and I don’t know for how long.

Third, I’m sucking a young cock. I didn’t perform my first blowjob until I was seventeen, and that was with a guy five years older than me. So this is a first, sucking a young cock like this.

And I like it! I like it a lot! And I’m going to be getting so much more of this cock, in so many ways – and in so many places!

But again, I had to move things along.

I backed my mouth off my son’s cock – reluctantly. I put a final kiss on the very tip, then said, “Kyle, Sweetheart, my knees are getting sore on this floor, and it’s probably a strain for you, leaning against the wall like that. You know...,” and I looked back over my shoulder through the partially-open door at the couple still fucking frantically inside, “I don’t think your dad is going to be needing the bedroom for quite some time – do you think we could move into our bedroom, and then we can see what else you and I can do?”

I picked up Kyle’s warm-up pants from the hallway floor. then took his hand and walked him into our – Al’s and my – bedroom, and to the freshly-made king-sized bed with the covers that I’d turned back earlier in the evening in anticipation of ... in anticipation. I led him to the bed and we both lay down. I had thought about making this “transition,” turning my probably-inexperienced son into my lover. Now was the time.

Kyle was now completely naked, straight from his shower and no longer wearing those warm-up pants, and I was there next to him, my lavender satin gown falling open a bit when I laid down on the bed. I reached over and took Kyle’s cock, which had retained most of it’s stiffness from the episode in the hallway, and began stroking it gently. And while I stroked him, I prepared him for what would be coming – tonight, but also, I hoped, for many nights after.

“Kyle, Sweetheart, so we can do this right, so it’ll be good, have you been with a girl...,” and then I thought to add, “ ... or a woman before?”

“Jeez, Mom, when would I ever be with a woman??”

“But a girl...?”

I think he blushed, just a little. “There was this once, at a party, and I felt Tanya Larson’s tits – sorry, Mom, her breasts. But that was only outside her sweater – she wouldn’t let me do anything more.”

“And that was it?”

“Yeah, that’s it.” He sounded almost ashamed, like he was apologizing for not having done more. I felt a bit sorry for him. But we were going to fix all of that tonight, weren’t we?

What his inexperience meant was that he didn’t already have a bunch of bad habits that would need to be corrected. I could start right off the bat teaching him how to be the lover I knew he could be – the lover I wanted him to be.

“That’s fine, Sweetheart, we’ve got lots of time – all the time in the world to do this right,” and then I realized that the phrase “do it right” might increase the pressure on him, make him afraid that he might do “something wrong.” And I certainly didn’t want that – that wouldn’t help things a bit.