This is a slightly revised version of a story I posted on the Storiesonline Discussion Group as an unsolicited entry in a little challenge the group has going on. Terms of the challenge by Sagacious (who bears absolutely no responsibility for this story) appear below.
Do I have to add that I wrote the story tongue-in-cheek? I did. Don't take it too seriously.
SOLDG Challenge #2, terms by Sagacious
A young, slightly overweight, girl is home alone during spring break. She gets the urge, and finds some porno tapes in her parents' closet. She gets through two bad tapes, but the third one is marked only with a date. She puts it in, and soon realizes that the hung hunk on camera is her brother and that the MILF he is thumping is her mother.
1. blackmails her brother to provide for her needs; or
2. blackmails her mother to loan her father to her; or
3. causes a full family orgy to ensue.
Describe her confrontation and culmination with her family.
a. Give three pieces of furniture--other than bed, chair or
couch--used for sex, and show how they are used.
b. Give some revelation about the family that would be unexpected.
"OK, Mrs. Christie, I'll be sure to tell him."
I put the phone down. Christ. How'd she know we were here, anyway? Dad told her, of course. He always stays in touch. In his job he has to. For me, though, just one more boring thing to do. So boring. So bored. I looked out the window. The lake was calm this early in the morning but I was already sweating. It was going to be hotter than hell later, no surprise this time of year. Mom and Dad and Jeff wouldn't be here until afternoon, they said.
I wandered over and sat down on the ottoman. Crap. Nothing to do. Sandy wouldn't have this problem, no, not her. Everyone liked her. What's not to like about a blonde ex-cheerleader, slim, not an extra ounce on her smooth gentle curves?
It's not as though she wasn't nice to me. She was. So were the guys. After all, when you're after a hot girl it pays to get on the right side of her roommate, right? Funny thing, though, once they were on Sandy's radar I seemed to drop off theirs. Why is it that people think curvy girls are only good for being pals, anyway?
It wasn't a total loss. Some of the guys were nice and kept on being nice even after they were friends with Sandy. I mean, I'm not a virgin, don't ask me how that worked out but it did, and the guys weren't creeps. I mean it. It wasn't serious, either, and that left me feeling, well, lonely, I guess is the best way to put it. And horny.
Crap. This is stupid. I stood up. Why not? Do it! I stripped off my t-shirt, shorts and sandals. Slipped off my bra and panties. It's safe, I was thinking. They won't be here for hours.
I stepped out on the veranda. No one could see me, though for a second I thought maybe it wouldn't be bad if they could. Barest hint of a breeze on my skin. A tingle, too. Still hot. Crap. I promised Coach I'd do floor work every day during break. You think wrestlers only need arms and shoulders? Look again. Gut. That's where it's at. That's what they need, and that means crunches. I looked at the bench and picnic table in the shade at the edge of a grassy area we called our lawn, even if it wasn't. Wasn't really a lawn, I mean. It was green and we kept it short, so I guess you could call it a lawn.
I walked over and lay on the ground, put my feet up on the bench and let the "lawn" prickle my back. Ran my hands down my flanks.
"Big bones." That's what Mom used to tell me. "You're not fat. You've got big bones."
Well, it worked for a while, I guess, until I got a little older and saw I was plain heavy. Not fat, no, but definitely heavy. I felt my hips, the little roll above, over to my tummy and down. I tensed my abs. They were there, even if you couldn't see them in the mirror. I moved my legs apart, feet still on the bench, and let my hands find their own separate ways to my thighs and back up. And back down, circling, until one rested between my legs and the other moved up over my belly to the underside of my breast where it stopped, but only for a moment.
Who said benches are only good for crunches? Afterwards, when I'd caught my breath, I did a few anyway so I could tell Coach I had. Really sweaty now, but it was good sweaty.
The shower helped a little. Afterwards, I wandered down the upstairs hall, clean and shiny and nude, to the big bedroom Mom and Dad used. It's funny about that, but once you're a little older no kid wants to spend much time there, in the parents' room, you can guess why. Too, well, too gross, maybe. No, that's not it. Too uncomfortable. Parents? Sex? Yuck. Well, mostly, maybe not entirely yuck. Today, though, I was on my own and still a little worked up. I was looking for something, didn't know what.
Funny, the red light on the DVD player was on. That was weird. Mom had a cow whenever Jeff or I left a light, any kind of light, on when we left the room. There were a couple of DVDs on the table beside the player. Even from across the room I knew what they were. Who designs the covers for porno tapes, anyway? Dyslexic horny monkeys? Teenage boys? Yeah, right. Stupid me. Heck, that's not even an oxymoron. It's just plain redundant. And unfair to dyslexia sufferers, too, I bet. Anyway, you can recognize the things from 100 feet away.
What the hell. I put one in. I knew what I'd find. I mean, it's not like me and my friends haven't seen porn before, you know. They call it the Internet, remember? I was right. Pulled the disc back out. Checked out the other one. Same crap. Went to put it back in its case and saw that the case had another DVD in a separate slot. No title on this one but it did have a date from last summer. Hmm.
Holy shit! I mean, double holy shit!
I don't know what surprised me more. That Jeff--my "little" brother, mind you--had a dick that looked about a foot long from what I could see of it, or that the woman skewered on top of said dick was Mom. Not only that, they were in the very same garden where I'd done my, er, crunches not long before.
OK, I know what you're thinking. I should have been running around screaming Pervert! Motherfucker! Jesus! Help! Well, I wasn't. I'm not entirely sure why I wasn't, in fact, to be honest, except that while I was standing there with my mouth open and a tingle everywhere, I was thinking. Hard. Something tickled my memory but it got away before I could catch it. I was also watching the scene closely. Mom wasn't in pain, that's for sure, unless you consider being so far gone in lust that you can't see straight to be pain.
Mom bounced faster and faster until she froze. After a second or two she fell forward on Jeff, whereupon he held her by her hips and began thrusting. It looked to me either they were on a very short fuse or the camera hadn't started filming until near the end, because it only took a moment before Jeff rammed himself up as hard as he could and spasmed once, twice, and a third time.
I figured it was over but I was wrong. Dad entered the frame, his cock erect, and I realized two things immediately: I knew where Jeff's impressive dick came from, and that Dad knew exactly what was going on with Jeff and Mom. My mouth opened as Dad took Mom under her arms and lifted her off Jeff. I thought he was going to help her down to the grass but I was wrong again. He put his arm around her and walked her over to a wheelbarrow just beyond the bench and the picnic table.
He's going to cart her off in a wheelbarrow? Huh? Wrong a third time. Dad kissed her and put his arms around her. He pointed at the wheelbarrow, but Mom shook her head. "OK," Dad seemed to say, and he led her over to the picnic table and kissed her again, turned her and bent her over the table, his hands first holding her boobs, then moving back to her thighs where he spread her legs and entered her, slowly, to my surprise.
Slowly, but only for a moment that is, until he began to thrust and Mom braced herself with her arms on the table as Dad slammed her again and again and her boobs bounced. The camera angle was wide enough that I could see Jeff, reclining on the grass, his hand stroking his newly erect cock.
That was enough for me. I threw myself on the big bed and did what I had to do.
I guess it was the double orgasm, or maybe the soft air the ceiling fan kept moving across my sweaty skin (again!), but I drifted off.
"Ssh. Go on, you two, let me talk to her."
I knew that voice.
I opened my eyes to see Mom in the doorway making a shooing motion with her hands. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. I was a puddle, too relaxed and sleepy to move, to cover myself, so I didn't.
Mom sat on the bed, the sweetest smile on her face.