“Mmmmmm, that’s good,” I thought; licking my lips, at the same time my right hand twisted my clit, while my other one was two fingers deep in my hot little hole. I had my legs spread, and both hands in my crotch, while I worked myself up to the orgasm I had been building for all day long.
Beside me Angela slept the sleep of the completely satisfied; not even aware of her older sister’s rising orgasm. Not that she would have cared if she had been awake… watching doesn’t turn my little sister on, like it does me. I licked my lips again; savoring the memories of the day (and other things) that had gotten me so stimulated that for the first time in a week I had to masturbate.
It all started this morning, when Mother was making breakfast…
“Mandy, could you go down and check on Matthew and Samantha?” she asked. “Don’t disturb them if they’re busy,” she instructed me. “Just wait until they’re done and make sure they do a good job before you interrupt them. Then let them both know that breakfast is ready as soon as they finish.”
Mother didn’t even offer to serve me breakfast first. She, like all the rest of the family, knows full well my “taste” in such things, and that I wouldn’t be able to eat while thinking about what my two older siblings were doing. As I said, my mother knows me very well.
I grinned at her, almost snickering internally at the outrageous pun, while I followed my mother’s instructions and headed down to “check up on” whatever obscene things were going on in the bedroom my big sister shared with our big brother. “Mother really IS a kinky bitch,” I thought with another internal grin. Of course, being “kinky” ran in the family… As I should well know.
Well, it wasn’t as kinky as it sometimes was, but it was still quite sexy. I got to my brother and sister’s bedroom just in time to see Samantha fit our big brother’s swollen penis in her crack, before sliding down until almost every inch had vanished into her body. They both must have known I was coming to watch, because Matthew was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the door, while Samantha sat on his lap with legs spread in my direction, so I could see every detail of their obscene coupling.
As I mentioned earlier, my whole family knows my taste in sex, and tries to see that I’m not left out; even though I don’t get turned on by the same things that they do. Once again, I almost giggled at the unintentional pun. The “action” going on between my big sister’s legs was too interesting though, for me to spend much time in mirth. If I got carried away, I might miss the best part.
Matthew and Samantha must have been going at it for some time before I came in, as his prick was white and shiny with slippery stuff, while my big sister’s crotch was dripping. No wonder she hadn’t had to get him excited before sliding down on him like that, I figured my brother and sister must have been fucking around for over half an hour; probably just waiting for me to arrive to watch their climax.
I guess the thought of my older brother blowing his seed in his own sister’s unprotected womb, while their little sister watched him do it, was almost as an erotic idea to my two older siblings as it was to me. For sure it didn’t take the two incestuous lovers more than a minute or two to cum, once I got settled on the floor in front of them, with my face almost between their legs, so I could get a good close-up view of their coupling. Talk about the best seat in the house! Of course, my big sister would argue that; pointing out that HER position, with her “sitting” on our big brother’s prick like that, was the, “best seat in the house.”
It was all I could do to keep from gasping with laughter at the very thought; thus missing the most interesting part. My big sister is just as kinky in her own way as I am. (Some people would say she’s even kinkier; fucking her own big brother like that, without taking precautions.) Of course, our whole family is kinky. We just have different kinks to get us off.
As I said, it didn’t take long after I got settled in front of them before Matthew was gasping, “Oh Sis, I’m gonna…” while jamming his prick into Samantha’s belly with sharp insistent jabs. I knew it wouldn’t be long before my big brother’s sperm was decorating the inside of our sister’s womb, and the thought almost had me gasping with excitement.
My breath whistled through my teeth; and I had my legs jammed together to suppress the rising itch in my crotch, before I found myself reaching down in my panties and fingering myself as I watched. (Not that either of them would have minded if I did… It’s just that it would have been too distracting to cum myself… Heck, I might miss it when Matthew came in Samantha; and I didn’t get to watch them often enough to want to miss it even once.)
My big sister seemed to be as excited about feeling our big brother cum inside her as either Matthew or I was. “Do it… Do it, do it,” she half-groaned; while her motions grew almost frantic on top of him; until one of her wilder gyrations almost pulled him out. Somehow Samantha managed to slow down enough to keep from losing him, while our brother’s motions became even more violent, if possible. “Oh god…” he groaned; and I knew my big brother had lost it.
So did my big sister; as the jerking inside her belly must have been unmistakable. Samantha pulled up for a second, until only the head of Matthew’s prick was inside her, so for almost a second I could see the bulges running up our big brother’s prick, as ripples running through the tube on the bottom showed the older boy was actually cumming inside my big sister, and not faking it. The very idea of my big brother ejaculating his sperm in my sister was so erotic I almost came myself; fighting down the urge to climax, by squeezing my legs together.
Once Samantha was sure I had seen enough to satisfy ME, she dropped down so that Matthew’s prick was completely sheathed in her tight slot, and the following bulges in the tiny bit of brotherly prick remaining outside just told me the older boy was squirting his sperm as far up in my big sister’s belly as either of them could get it to go.
By this time my face was pressed so close to my big sister’s crotch; that I could see, smell, and almost taste each incestuous bulge as yet another thick wad of cum rippled through my brother’s prick and into my big sister’s welcoming womb. God, it was exciting to see that. (Not to mention the SMELL alone, was almost enough to make me cum in my shorts. The temptation to stick out my tongue and taste the delicious meringue making a mess of the juncture of my older sibling’s bodies was almost overwhelming.
The smell, look, and feel of hot sweaty bodies mixed with sex and even the delicious smell of cum almost made me feel I could taste it without even sticking out my tongue. Still, I knew better than to touch either of them without being invited. Our parents had made it abundantly clear that none of us were to ever touch another family member in a sexual way, unless that other person made it abundantly clear (in advance!) that such touching would not only be tolerated, but welcomed.
Dad and Mother weren’t going to let any of us rape any of the others; or even let any of us take advantage of someone else’s weaknesses. That’s how I had managed to remain a virgin, even with all of the rest of the family having an almost continual orgy around me. Neither Dad nor Matthew were about to try having sex with me, unless I approached them first… which from the look of things, would be a long time.
While I like sex well enough, my “tastes” are completely different from the rest of the family. And I knew my big sister would NOT like to be disturbed by feeling a tongue on her sensitive areas, while she was enjoying the final satisfying twinges of pleasure from having her pussy pumped full of our big brother’s seed.
It was this mutual trust… Her that I wouldn’t touch her when she wasn’t ready, and me trusting them to not try and force me to join them, that allowed us to do this; with me almost having my face buried in my sister’s crotch; enjoying the vicarious pleasures of watching my older siblings mate like two minks, while my big brother and sister “got off” on knowing that their little sister got a kick out of seeing them do it. If we hadn’t trusted each other to not touch, then we wouldn’t have been able to do it.
“Thanks Big Brother,” said Samantha; as I watched a last shudder of pleasure ripple through her body. Matthew didn’t answer in words; just hugging her close while the last sticky drops of sperm oozed out of his prick and into my big sister’s body. I knew that while Matthew was too exhausted from that climax to say anything, from the heavy whistling of his breath, I also knew that he was just as grateful to my big sister for what she had done for him, as she was for what he did for her. He had made it abundantly clear in the past.
Lori gave one last satisfied shudder; then reached down and patted the back of my head; pulling my face into her crotch; so my nose was almost sticking into the gap around our big brother’s cock at the top of her vagina.
Thus given permission, I reached out with my tongue and lapped at the tasty juncture of sibling sex. The smell, look, feel, (and especially taste!) of my big sister’s spendings, mixed with the slightly sharper and sweeter tastes of pre-cum left on her matted hair was exquisite.
My mind almost blew away at the delicious flavor of my brother and sister combined; even though I didn’t get even a taste of the stuff I like most; as my brother had left every drop of cum inside Samantha’s belly where it belonged, instead of wasting it on the outside.
Oh well… perhaps some other time.
After I had licked them both clean (as much as I could with them still joined together like that) I pulled back and sat on my haunches. I knew better to overdo my welcome; and while my big sister had enjoyed the feel of me cleaning her up; lesbian tendencies just weren’t in her book of pleasures.
If I got too eager, she might not let me do it again next time. (Not that I’m a lesbian either; being fully as heterosexual as everybody else in the family. It’s just that MY pleasures are different from theirs, in a different manner than that. You might say I have different tastes, than they do. (Damnit! There I go again. )
I watched as Samantha and Matthew rolled back on the bed, still together; while they enjoyed the final twinges of being mated. Then, almost with regret it seemed, they finally pulled apart.
While I had done a pretty good job of getting them clean when they were stuck together, Matthew’s prick STILL looked a smeary mess when they pulled apart. Samantha’s tight little cunny though had only a tiny white seepage to show that her own big brother’s incestuous sperm was even then wriggling up inside her womb; looking for an egg to fertilize.
My big sister is so tight inside, that rarely does much more than a drop escape; and even though my big brother has been spasming her belly full of incestuous cum for over three years now, she’s never caught. I know neither one is using any precautions or even seem to care if she gets pregnant or not. If she does, she does, and neither of my two older siblings or even our parents seem to be worried about it.
I guess they figure they’ll worry about that, if and when Samantha’s pants start to get tight. Doesn’t that almost blow you away? I know it does ME. Even my little sister seems to be turned-on by the idea of our older siblings mating like that. But I’ll get to HER later.
Samantha looked at the tasty sausage dangling between our big brother’s legs; and with an apologetic look at me, she bent over and sucked the half-erect member into her mouth’ stripping the delicious juices from the outside, and enjoying the sweeter taste of the white dribble oozing from the tip. Our big brother’s prick stayed half-erect at this stimulation; but he didn’t get another full-sized hard-on. I guess he couldn’t.
Only when she had cleaned up almost every drop, did my sister remember me. While Samantha isn’t as orally-fixated as I am, she DOES like the flavor of her pussy on our big brother’s prick… yes, and even his cum too.
“Want a taste?” She asked apologetically; reaching down to Matthew’s balls, and stripping one last thick drop out of his prick, so it made a tiny puddle oozing from the tip. I could see a white streak on my big sister’s tongue, so I knew she had tasted Matthew herself.
Even with my disappointment, I couldn’t blame my sister for getting a good taste of our big brother’s cum, before offering any to me. I mean, I KNEW just how good it tasted; just as much as my big sister knew how much I liked the taste, so she didn’t “hog” it all to herself.
I nodded; grateful that I even got a taste. After all, my older siblings didn’t HAVE to invite me to watch their sex-play… and they certainly didn’t have to let me taste either of them afterwards. I was lucky to be allowed to watch; as most 12-year-old girls aren’t even allowed to do that!
“Mmmmmm.” My mind STILL tingles at the delicious taste of my big brother’s seed oozing against my tongue. I swirled it around in my mouth; trying to coat every inch without swallowing, so I could enjoy the taste as long as possible.
Sadly, there was only a tiny drop; as my big brother must have left most of his sperm inside my big sister’s body where he had been trying so frantically to plant it. I guess my loss, was my big sister’s gain. Still, I was grateful to both of them for letting me have even this little bit. They COULD have just chased me out, once they had cum and I had completed my mother’s instructions to, “Check on Matthew and Samantha; and let them both know breakfast is ready when they’re done.”
I savored the flavor of my big brother’s cum, while I repeated our mother’s instructions. For all the time it takes to describe, it had only been a little over five minutes since I came in to “check on” my two older siblings.
I was still licking my lips when I arrived at the table. After that delicious appetizer, I was ravenously hungry.
Mother just grinned as she slid a big platter of ham, eggs, and toast in front of me. She knows how hungry the sight, sound, smell, (and taste!) of seeing my brother and sister fucking makes me.
Even though it was probably gone with the first bite, I still imagined the taste of my own big brother’s cum was flavoring every bite. God, what a delicious thought… Having your own brother’s cum flavoring your breakfast like that. I shuddered almost in orgasm at the very thought; and resolved to ask Matthew (or Dad and Mother) if one of them could jack-off on my breakfast some morning, just so I could see what it tasted like.
Even though the rest of the family thinks I’m kinky, and don’t really get as turned on as I do by things like that, they still like to see me “get my jollies off” too. So if I asked, I knew that eventually one (or delicious thought) or possibly even both of my male relatives would do it. Lord knows, even with four horny females in the house, (well, possibly only three, if you don’t count me) both Matthew and Dad STILL “whacked off” on a semi-regular basis. Doing it over their little sister’s (or daughter’s) breakfast wouldn’t be all that hard for studs like them. Who knows? They might even get off on it themselves.
I resolved to ask, at the earliest opportunity.
“Well?” asked my mother; interrupting my train of thought, “Did they do a good job?”
I thought of the way Matthew had looked while spasming my big sister’s belly with cum. His face had been almost expressionless; but you could tell he was practically in heaven. Even though only a tiny drop leaked out later, I figured my big brother had left enough sperm in our sister’s womb to make Lori be having her big brother’s babies for the next five years… if she was in a condition to “catch” which I figured she was. And remembering the way my older sister’s belly had fluttered in cramps around her big brother’s prick; I knew the older girl had enjoyed it almost as much (if not more) as my big brother had. “Yes… I guess you could say they had done a “good job.”
“Yes,” I said; remembering the frantic coupling, “they did a good job. From the look of them when he was cumming, you would almost swear Matthew was pumping at least a quart of baby-juice in Samantha’s belly.” I giggled at the thought of my big sister’s belly being swollen with that much cum being pumped inside her; then almost cramped at the devastatingly horny thought of that much cum pumping out of my big brother’s prick for me to drink. The thought of a whole Mason jar filled with white slippery goo; just waiting there for ME to drink up every drop, was so erotic I almost doubled over in unexpected orgasm. Damn! That was twice in one day I almost came without even being touched; just at the thought of what my big sister and brother were doing.
“Yes,” I said; repeating myself, “I’d say they must have done a VERY good job.”
Mother looked at me for a moment; probably wondering what I was thinking; as I shivered and shuddered in the memory of just how good a job my brother had done on our sister. “You know, you don’t HAVE to watch them, if you don’t want to.” she said.
“No Mother,” I answered; shivering at the delicious memory. “It’s I LIKE to watch them get it on. It’s just that it gets me so… so…”
“…Frustrated?… Horny?” she asked; completing my thought. “Um. Maybe we’ll have to do something about that,” she said; looking at me with some concern. “I’ll talk to your father, and maybe we’ll see if we can’t arrange for something tonight… OK?” She looked at me questioningly.
The smile I sent Mother would have made a car headlight look dim. Damn, I had never expected this! Usually Mother was as protective of HER few chances with Dad (considering my little sister) that she wouldn’t even suggest such a thing. Still, my mother seemed to appreciate (to a small extent at least) that vaginal, cock-in-cunt sex was not the ONLY way for people to get off. Maybe the most important to her and the rest of the family; but not the only way. Even though it seemed like a “waste” to her, Mother still appreciated that the way I got pleasure from sex was NOT the way she and my two sisters did.
“Thanks Mom,” I almost squealed with glee; using my old “baby” name for Mother.
“Well, don’t get TOO excited,” she reminded me. “I still have to clear this with your father, you know.” I wasn’t worried. Dad hadn’t once turned down ANY of us girls when we approached him for sex of any kind. Even when Angela wanted him to take her cherry, two weeks after she had her first period, Dad hadn’t refused her… once he had warned the 8-year-old what might happen (this was two years ago).
While they hadn’t exactly been “fucking like bunnies” ever since, my little sister HAD almost taken over for Mother in their bedroom at night. Since mother wasn’t nearly as oversexed as the rest of the family, wanting it only two or three times a week, this wasn’t as bad for her as it sounds. Mother had actually enjoyed the fact that Angela could “take over” every morning, and almost every other night; so Dad didn’t have to miss out on “real sex” when she didn’t feel like it.
Previous to that, Mother had been “letting” Dad “use” her body to jack-off into, on the days when she wasn’t horny herself. To have her horny 8, 9, and now 10 year old daughter be “willing” to relieve her father’s urges, had been a relief for both of them. Still, Mother usually jealously guarded HER scheduled times with Dad. After all, she DID get horny sometimes herself. Especially with three horny teenagers putting on a porno-show in the house almost every day.
On the other hand, Mother knew that I could get almost as horny as my two sisters, and wasn’t about to see me neglected either. After some discussion, Mother told me that while she was willing to give up “her turn” with Dad, so I could get some relief, I was going to have to make some negotiations with my two sisters for a more permanent solution.
It wasn’t fair that they got all the sex from the men in the house, and I didn’t get any… Even if both men DID prefer the same kind of sex as my two sisters did. I was almost shivering in happiness at the thought that I would probably not only get my father that night, but had the prospect of getting at least SOME relief on a more constant basis.
Well, that was that morning and breakfast.
Now you get SOME idea of why I was lying there in bed, twisting my clit and licking my lips at the memory of what happened earlier. Only that was just the beginning.
It was about an hour after lunch when I came dashing into the house; having to pee so bad it felt like my teeth were floating. It’s too bad I couldn’t have come in earlier, as I understand the squeaking noises of the bed in the room I share with Angela had sent most of the family looking for a spare bedroom themselves. Only it’s usually more fun to wait until whoever-it-is finishes, so you get all the stimulation from hearing THEM go at it, before starting your own song of love, and possibly disturbing the other “team.”
With that in mind, you can understand why not 30 seconds after I settled on the can and was starting to leg go with a big healthy blast into the bowl, a rhythmic squeaking started up just down the hall, at almost the same moment my little sister came dashing into the bathroom with her hand cupped over her sex; trying desperately to keep from leaking all over the floor.
“Oh shit,” she said; glaring at me just as my bladder burst into full stream. Dad has said several times that he should fix up that “rough-in” for a bathroom in the basement into the real thing… or at least install a stool down there. Only he never has. This situation was just the sort of argument for finally getting Dad to do it… or maybe not.
“Can’t you get up?” asked Angela; now using both hands to desperately keep from leaking on the mat. The blast of pee hitting the bowl answered for me that if I got up, I’d be making a bigger mess than she would. Suddenly an evil grin spread across my little sister’s face, as she remembered something.
“Hey,” she said; removing her cupped hand from under her leaking sex, “that’s right. YOU like this stuff, don’t you?” Here the little girl pushed her smeary messy crotch at me suggestively.
If you think I turned down an invitation like that, you don’t know me very well.
Pulling my little sister closer, I stuck my tongue out and lapped up the lowermost dribble running down her leg. God, did that taste good! Something about my little sister’s juices mixed with the deliciously sharp/sweet flavor of male cum made a cocktail that was indescribably delicious. After I cleaned up the more obvious drools so she didn’t make a mess, I delved deeper with my tongue and was rewarded by an almost pure thick gob of sperm from my little sister’s leaking hole.
“Oh. You like that, don’t you? You nasty little slut,” groaned Angela; now pushing harder into my face; and almost pushing my nose into her clit. “Eat it all out, you cunt-licking whore.” Angela’s voice grew nastier and nastier, as her excitement grew. Previously my little sister had never let me touch her sex with my mouth; insisting that it was something only queers did. Angela is definitely not a lesbian… but then, neither am I.
I just like to get my cum from wherever I can; and if it’s from inside one of my sisters’ vaginas, then so what? Cum is cum, no matter whether it comes ‘straight from the tap” or from where the man squirted it. Heck, I’d probably be willing to suck my big brother’s cum out of my little sister’s asshole, if he ever squirted it there. Of course my sister would never go for that. Neither being fucked in the behind, or worse yet being eaten there appeals to Angela; though I’m not so sure what Samantha would think of the idea.
By this time, Angela was really getting into it; pushing her crotch in my face, while calling me, “Lezzie trash, cum-slurping whore. Suck your brother’s nasty old scum out of your little sister’s smelly gash. Come on, Sis, show me just what kind of lesbian gutter-whore you are, by cleaning all that nasty goo right out of me.”
Even trying, my little sister’s innocence showed through; as she couldn’t quite make her nasty slurs sound as bad as she wanted them to. For all of her accusing me of being a lesbian and normally being supposedly turned-off by things like I was doing, I could tell that Angela not only loved me, but was starting to actually LIKE feeling me cleaning her out. That’s why I didn’t stop once I got the last delicious drop of family seed I could with my tongue; but continued licking and probing with my tongue, while the little girl’s body shook, and I found even more mess to clean up, only this was clear and runny, not white and sticky.
Angela’s voice became ragged, as her voice became more and more potty-mouth. “Shit, cunt, mother-fucker, don’t stop,” she almost groaned; while at the same time almost drowning me with her secretions. By now I almost couldn’t taste the cloying flavor of male cum I liked so much; but I wasn’t about to stop until my sister wanted me to. You see, there’s what they call the old “blowjob principle.”
If somebody gives you a blowjob (or head of any kind) then you want to let them know you’re grateful; so they’ll be inclined to give you another one next time. I wanted Angela to know I was VERY grateful for giving me what I wanted; and if the way to show her was by getting her off, then I wasn’t going to stint on the job. I wanted to get my little sister in the habit of coming to me to “clean her out” whenever she “got dirty”. Maybe THIS way, I could get what I wanted without cutting into EITHER of my two sisters’ sex- lives.
I wasn’t really thinking this consciously, but I knew I DID want to make my little sister feel good, after giving me what I had been craving all morning.
Angela finally stopped shuddering; and once she did I stopped my frantic licking; just slowly running my tongue in and out of her hole until she seemed to get enough. “Oooh, that was good,” she admitted. Then, with that same evil smile, but this time a twinkle in her eyes to accompany it, Angela held out her hand to me. “Here, you cum-sucking gutter-whore,” she said; displaying where a thick drool of liquid had puddled in her hand while she made that earlier dash to the bathroom, “clean me up. And don’t you dare miss a drop either, slut.”
“Mmm.” Now THIS was payment I could appreciate for eating my little sister out. While I’m not a lesbian, I’d gladly eat the little girl out two or even three times a day, for treats like this. Dutifully I cleaned up every drop of delicious seed, and looked hungrily for more. The cloyingly sweet taste of genuine male cum helped cover up the runny, almost tastelessly bland flavor of little girl. While eating my sister wasn’t bad, and I could see why SOME people actually like to eat little girls out, it wasn’t for me.
I guess it’s an acquired taste, like mine. I like the “real thing” like I just had cleaned off my little sister’s hand, and earlier out of her body. “Michael’s” I asked interestedly, now that I had finished cleaning up every drop I could find. I couldn’t be sure, because my sister’s smell and taste had covered up the subtle differences between his taste, and that of our father. Besides, I knew that Angela and Matthew quite often liked to “knock off a piece” in the afternoons. When their normal partners were otherwise occupied.
“No, Dad’s,” giggled Angela; giving me another treat by holding out her left hand. There splattered on IT, were almost as much cum as she had on the right one. Dad must have cum in buckets in the little girl for her to leak that much. Turned-on by the thought that I was licking up my own father’s sperm… the same sperm he had squirted in his own daughter’s fertile young belly, I almost shuddered in release myself as I cleaned her off.
Afterwards, enjoying the sticky-sweet taste of my own father’s seed in my mouth, and rolling it around on my tongue, the shudders suddenly became harder and harder, and I found I WAS coming, right there on the toilet, while my little sister hugged and comforted me… no longer the nasty little girl being mean to her sister, but the loving little girl who really cared for her big sister.
“Go on, do it,” she encouraged me; actually urging my mouth to her tits which I sucked in unconscious activity. “Suck Momma’s tits… Cum on… Get it all out… Cum… Cum… Cum for your little sister. Eat Daddy’s cum, and have a nice big cum yourself.”
I suddenly found myself face-to-face with my little sister; involved in a crushing kiss like I never had with anybody else. I don’t know who started it, or who pushed, but both of us gave as good as we got; dueling tongues, and mashing our faces together so hard they almost bruised. As I said, I’m no lesbian, and even my little sister isn’t going to make me one. (And Angela’s even more a confirmed heterosexual than I am.)
Still, that kiss and cum made me see why some women would turn to other women… if there weren’t any decent men around like my father or big brother, anyway. If I ever find a man like either one, I’m going to marry him, if I have to kill both of my sisters to do it. Of course, I know both of them feel the same way.
Once MY shudders had died down, the way hers had earlier, we both pulled away and looked at each other. Experiences like THAT, you don’t get every day. “Well,” said my little sister; circling her toe on the bathroom mat like an embarrassed little boy.
“Well,” I repeated; almost as embarrassed myself. I mean, a girl just isn’t supposed to do things like that with her little sister. Of course, girls aren’t “supposed” to do all the things us girls did with our father and brother, either. “Well,” I repeated; with more strength now as I recovered my breath, “we’ll have to try that again some day, won’t we?”
Angela actually blushed; circling her toe even harder. At least she didn’t seem to be mad at me for “coming on” to her like that… of course, she HAD started it.
“Um… Yes… we will, won’t we?” she said; blushing even harder. “Uh, How about tomorrow afternoon? Does that sound fine to you?” Angela ducked her head in little-girl embarrassment. If I turned her down… .
I had no intention of turning her down. “Sounds fine to me,” I said; reaching for the paper to wipe up with. I had almost forgotten my original purpose in the bathroom. “Same time tomorrow, same channel?” I asked.
Angela grinned at me. Grins like that could win awards; and she knew it. “Same time, same station,” she agreed. “And Mandy?”
“Um?” I grinned back at her, while I flushed the toilet.
“I’m sorry I called you those nasty names.”
I grinned down at my little sister. “Angela,” I said, “anytime you do THAT, you can call me all the nasty names you want to. I know you love me, and I love you too. You can call me all the nasty names you want to… OK?”
“You really MEAN that?” she asked. “You’re NOT mad about it? I really CAN? You DO?”
As the last statement settled in, I saw my little sister’s face pucker up for a moment as if she was going to cry… and then I suddenly found myself in an embrace from the little girl like I hadn’t had from her since she was seven, and was giving all her relatives big hugs.
Suddenly I found the two of us embracing, me in my shorts and halter, Angela still stark-naked; hugging and holding each other while she actually cried on shoulder. “Oh Mandy,” she finally sniffled as she pulled away, “I’ve MISSED you so bad.”
Missed me? I looked at my little sister in wonderment. Whatever could she mean?
“I mean, I’ve missed holding you, and hugging you, and cuddling with you, like we used to,” she explained; wiping a tear from her eye.
“Then why did you stop?” I asked. It certainly hadn’t been ME who stopped hugging and cuddling. It seemed that just one day Angela had stopped; and from then on hadn’t even wanted to snuggle up spoon-fashion in bed like we used to. It had confused me for a while when Angela had pointedly turned her back on me while in bed; but I wasn’t one to force intimacy when none was offered. Nobody in our house is.
“I thought I was getting too big for such things,” she explained. “And besides, that’s when I first learned about women who… who DO things with other women, and I didn’t want to be a lesbian.”
“Oh Sis,” I sighed; exasperated at the kind of world that would make the innocent snuggling of a little girl with her big sister into the obscene coupling of two horny dykes. “You’re NEVER too old to hug someone you love,” I explained; holding out my arms for the little girl to snuggle into a little more comfortably this time, “and nobody is going to force you into being a lesbian, if you don’t want to. If you don’t want to snuggle up to me at night, then you don’t have to. But I’m not going to molest you in your sleep if you do, either. Have I EVER approached you for sex?” I asked.
“Well, no but…” I could tell Angela was thinking about that incredible scene we had in the bathroom, from her glance in that direction. “. . . but what if I told you I WANTED you to ‘approach’ me?” she asked.
“Then I would think about it, and let you know,” I replied. “Even if I turned you down, I wouldn’t be mad at you, or want to stop snuggling with you.”
“Oh,” said Angela; snuggling even closer. By now we were sitting on our bed, her almost in my lap, while we talked and enjoyed being close in a way we hadn’t been for over two years. “Uh… Mandy?”
“Yes?” I nuzzled my little sister’s hair; enjoying the smell like I hadn’t done in far too long.
“I’m asking.” Oh shit. Damnit! I WAS a heterosexual, and determined to stay one. Only I suddenly remembered something from my mother’s lessons. Neither men NOR women were really “gay”, “bi”, or “het”. All humans were sexual creatures, and the urge to have sex was strong… even with members of your own sex, and yes even your own family members. There was nothing intrinsically wrong with such urges or feelings. There were only problems when people tried to control others in how they related sexually. That’s why it was usually so bad to have parents having sex with their children, as what son or daughter could refuse to have sex with his or her parent, if he or she knew the older partner wanted it?
On the other hand, she had explained that my big sister and brother climbing in bed with each other was NOT the same thing; even though society called both “incest” and condemned it. If they both WANTED it, and neither one was forcing the other in any way, then why not? The old wives’-tales about incestuous relations resulting in deformed babies were just that: Hogwash.
Mother explained to both of us girls about how genetics worked, and why the statistical chances of an incestuous relationship having problems were far less than the scare-tactics that society pushed at you. I think it was about THAT time, that Angela had asked something like, “What if a girl asked her father for sex, instead of him doing it?”
After Mother answered that question, I don’t think it was two days later before my little sister lost her virginity to Dad. So far, Mother’s advice about incest seemed to be holding up. OK… so why was I worried about turning into a bull-dyke, when neither I nor my little sister liked that kind of stuff? If I “made love” to Angela, that would NOT “ruin” me or her for sex with the rest of the family. “I’ll think about it, OK?” I replied.
“OK.” Angela didn’t seem to be disturbed by my answer, as if it was the one she expected. “Only Mandy?” she asked again. “Promise me something?”
“What?” I replied; too wrapped up in the pleasure of holding the little girl in my arms after her long absence.
“If you DO decide ‘Yes’, I want you to promise me something.” she said.
“What’s that?” I asked, semi-suspiciously. The cute grin of the 10-year-old made refusing her anything hard to do.
“‘Molest me in the middle of the night’ like you said you would… please? I want to feel what it’s like… OK?”
“OK,” I said; grinning back at the little girl, as hard as she was grinning at me. “If that’s what you REALLY want, and if I DO decide to take you up on your generous offer, and if I decide that I want to do this, then yes, I’ll do it. But I’m not guaranteeing anything. OK.”
“OK, Mandy.” The child squirmed around in my arms, gave me a crushing kiss, and was gone… leaving me with arms almost achingly empty. Somehow I just KNEW that sometime in the next two weeks or so, I would be pulling up the little girl’s nightie, and not just feeling her up, but trying to get the little girl to orgasm, before she was fully awake. The damned thought the little girl had planted in my head was just too erotic to resist. Somehow I just KNEW that Angela knew it too. Oh well.
I looked over at the little girl in bed with me, her leg half-over mine, sleeping close to me like we hadn’t for way too long, and was tempted to start right now. Only my long-awaited climax was close; and there was still that last memory of the day to help me get off.
In the delight of rediscovering my little sister, I had almost forgotten the promise my mother had made earlier. Thus it was that about an hour ago, Mother caught me by surprise, when she called in to the living-room, where the rest of the family was watching TV. “I’m going to bed early tonight,” she announced. At my little sister’s brightening face, she squelched the little girl’s hope of “taking over” for her mother. “So Mandy, could you ‘take care’ of your father tonight? I’ve got a slight headache.”
I knew Mother no more had a headache than I did. This was just her way of allowing me to get to Dad, before one of my sisters beat me to it.
“Sure Mother,” I said, “if Dad doesn’t mind. Perhaps he’d prefer one of the other girls though (here I licked my lips suggestively). You know how they can both ‘do things’ that I don’t.” The whole family, including Dad, knew those “things” involved little girls taking their father’s penis right up inside their tight little slits, and then letting Dad fill their cute little tummies full of his thick white baby-making cum.
The fact that neither girl was on the pill, or even planning on getting on it, just made the whole idea that much more erotic. On the other hand, while I couldn’t do THAT for Dad, I DO give the best blow-jobs in the house. Dad says in the entire universe, but he’s prejudiced.
Still, there IS something in what he says. To give a REALLY good blow-job, you’ve got to LIKE giving blow- jobs. (Remember that “blow-job” principle?) Not only that, but you shouldn’t mind getting cum in your mouth, and even swallowing, if you have to. There’s few turn- ons to men, like seeing a pretty girl licking her lips, and then SWALLOWING his sperm as if she likes it.
If you REALLY like it, that’s a plus… though I understand that there are SOME women that they call “cum-guzzlers” that are only interested in just that… swallowing a man’s sperm. They will suck like hell to get a man to cum in their mouth; then swallow it, and go on to the next guy to get some more. Sick!
Then, you get the rare-bird like me, who loves the taste of cum. While I would no more spit out someone’s cum after they squirted it in my mouth than I would candy, I wouldn’t just gulp it down, either. I LIKE the taste of cum in my mouth; and try to keep as much there as long as I can before I swallow.
The same goes for cock-sucking. I like to tease a guy on for as long as possible; keeping him on the hairy- edge of cumming all the while, until he finally loses it and squirts his cum in my mouth where it belongs. (To me, it seems a waste for a man to squirt it up a girl’s cunny, unless he’s trying to get her pregnant. To my sisters, it’s just the opposite.)
So, as you gather, I give a GREAT blow-job. Dad knows THAT, too. That’s why I really wasn’t surprised (but was pleased) to hear my father say, “No, it’s all right with me, if it’s all right with Mandy.”
The faces of both girls turned to me expectantly, and then fell at my smiling response. On the other hand, Matthew’s face brightened, when he learned that both of them would probably be available to HIM to ‘slake his lust on.”
When one of the other girls is with Dad, that usually means he has only one sister to squirt his sperm in. To my big brother, there’s only ONE proper hole for a man’s prick to go in. Dad, thank goodness, is more civilized.
So, about 45 minutes ago I found just me and Dad in the loving-room (sic) with the TV turned off, and both of us naked. I climbed on my father’s lap and gave him a bare-naked hug, just like I understand my little sister gave him (and later Matthew, and Samantha) not 15 minutes after leaving me that afternoon.
“Daddy,” I said; using the erotic name he liked to be called when having sex with us kids, “I love you.”
“‘Love you too, Mandy,” he replied; giving as good as he got, in the hug department. After a few minutes, he started squirming though. I giggled as I felt my father’s penis swell up under my bottom; and after a little more squirming, poke up between my legs. “But don’t you think we’d better do something about this,” he said; looking down at his lap where his penis was almost splitting my cunt-lips, “before it accidentally slides up inside you?” My father knows how I feel about remaining a virgin.
“Oh… I don’t know,” I said; squirming until my father’s prick actually WAS poking into the hole between my legs, and the sudden rush of wetness from both of us made it incredibly slippery. “Oh God,” I thought, “just one hard PUSH, and my virginity would be history; while my tummy would be so filled with Daddy’s baby-juice that I would probably be nursing our child within the year… SO close…”
“That might be fun,” I said; gritting my teeth and standing up, instead of forcing myself down, like I almost found myself wanting to. “But we’re supposed to do it THIS way, this time,” I said; getting on my knees.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Dad’s sandbagged look. That was the first time I had even HINTED that I might accept vaginal intercourse. I giggled, while internally I wondered just what I was talking myself into THIS time. One of the main reasons I’m still a virgin, is that I KNOW I’m extremely fertile (heck, even the doctor has warned me) and once I start having unprotected sex with either Dad or Matthew, my non- pregnant time will probably be measured in hours, if that.
I also knew full-well, that any sex I DID have with either one of them WOULD be unprotected; with thick family prick belching great gobs of incestuous baby- making cum at my fertile young womb. Hours? Heck, I would probably be pregnant within minutes of taking Dad inside me. Such a scary (and thoroughly erotic) thought! My crotch was soaking wet, and I knew it was NOT just from the pre-cum leaking out of Dad’s prick.
I knew I had better do SOMETHING to cool my hot box off; so I did what always had worked in the past… I deep-throated Dad’s prick.
I didn’t even wait to get him worked-up or myself excited first. From the almost steady drool of clear liquid coming from my father’s penis, I knew Dad was about as excited as he could get. I guess my hint about what I MIGHT do some other time had gotten him incredibly aroused. I filed this concept away for use later, when I might need to get one of my men excited in a hurry.
Usually, when I deep-throat someone, I work him up first; sucking and jacking on him, until his prick is slippery with pre-cum, and it’s spread all around my mouth, and even I am so excited I’m ready to be choked by prick, if necessary. This time I just jammed my mouth down in Dad’s crotch so fast that it slid down my throat like an oversized potato. God! Did that hurt! But I didn’t stop; working myself forward until my nose was buried in Dad’s fur, and my mouth was strained as far open as it could be, around the base of his prick.
The smell and aroma of a real MAN in my nose, combined with the sight and knowledge that my own father’s prick was buried in my body where it belonged, were enough to make me climax without a thing touching my overheated little snatch. For the next 20 minutes, from that first big swallow, until my ministrations finally got to be too much, I was in almost continuous orgasm; shuddering around my father’s prick, while I did everything a 12- year-old girl could do to excite her father; only easing up each time he got a little too close to cumming in me.
Up and down and around I would slide my mouth; pausing each time I felt those tiny flutterings that presaged my father’s eruptions. All the time, I felt his body up, hugging him to me, and rubbed and stroked his legs, chest, balls, ass, and wherever I could reach. Whenever Dad got too close, I would slow down for a second; still keeping his prick in my mouth, but no longer stroking until his excitement died down momentarily.
Three times in that session, I felt a delicious dollop of warm cum spurt into my mouth, while I hastily nipped my father’s prick with my teeth to distract him from giving me the whole load. Occasionally, I would “deep- throat” him, but mostly I just used my mouth like a cunt for him to fuck; letting his prick slide down my gullet on the in-strokes, while catching my breath on the out-strokes. At the same time I was doing this, I was peripherally aware of Dad stroking my back; teasing the erect nipples on my dangling breasts (what there were of them to “dangle”) feeling me up, gentling me down; and generally helping me to enjoy the almost continuous shudders of orgasm that kept rippling through my body.
I was incredibly disappointed that I had to swallow the first three squirts, but I did have to, to avoid making a big mess. Besides, Dad’s cock pushed most of it down my throat anyway, and one went there directly; as he squirted it while buried halfway down my gullet. All the time I fucked my mouth on my father’s prick, we made love. I was continuously aware of Dad’s words about how he loved me, how good it felt, and how he wanted ME to feel good.
I was just about to let Dad squirt, (Yes, I have that good a control, that usually *I* can control when a man comes… usually, but not always.) when I felt myself being moved, and realized that Dad was moving my body over his, so he could return the favor by licking MY hot little hole. It wasn’t forceful; being more of a suggestion by pushing lightly on my hips than a demanding shove. Still, I found myself moving to accommodate him.
Now usually, I resist ANY touch even near my vagina; but after what had happened today, (especially with my earlier hint) how could I refuse to allow my father the same pleasure of tasting me, that he was giving me of tasting him? I slid my body around; for once not only not resisting his unconscious effort to make me feel as good as he was; but actually helping him position my body to where first his finger, and then his incredibly slippery tongue could stroke and tickle my overheated crack.
This was almost an incredibly bad mistake. It was only with incredible effort that I kept from almost biting my father’s prick in two, the first time I felt his tongue touch my clit. NOBODY (besides myself) head EVER touched my clit, when I was already in the process of cumming. Even I usually kept my fingers away from there, as the sensations were too strong for me to control; and I had been known to fall out of bed… spoiling everything… when that happened. Only Dad had control of me this time, and wouldn’t let me fall off. I literally blacked-out for several seconds, from the intensity of the sensations. As I said, it was almost sheer luck that I maintained enough brain to remember NOT to bite down.
When I came too, I was almost choking, as I had involuntarily forced myself an incredible distance down on my father’s prick, and I somehow had managed to suck balls and all inside my mouth, so my mouth was distended around the base of his prick, like a snake swallowing a broomstick. MY nose was almost to his ass, and the incredibly erotic smell sound, feel, and yes taste of my father was making me try to swallow him whole!
Only it was too much. I need air to breathe, too. So I regretfully was about to pull back to catch another breath, when I heard Dad groan, “Oh God,” and actually PUSH another half-inch down my throat! Being out of control like that had made me lose control of Dad too. For a second, I mentally debated with the twin possible pleasures of letting Dad actually cum down my throat, (where I couldn’t taste it) or pulling back to get a breath of air, (where I could enjoy the taste of tick rich cum squirting against my tonsils).
It turns out that I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, as my body chose for me. I pulled loose just enough to gasp for air, before I almost chocked to death on the enormous gouts of cum my father spouted in my mouth. Some people are addicted to chocolate; others like steak or lobster. While I like ice-cream, I’d give it up forever for one sip of cream straight from a man’s prostate. It’s sweet and indescribably tasty and erotic.
I could just gorge myself on it. Drinking that imagined quart of sperm, while incredibly obscene, nasty, and repulsive to some people, would be like drinking nectar of the gods, to me. I wouldn’t just DRINK it, like those cum-guzzling sluts; I’d savor every drop. Ooohh!
Damn! That obscene thought had been enough to put me over the top. I couldn’t help myself; almost thrashing around in bed, as the memory stimulated me to my long- sought orgasm, while my jerking woke up my little sister.
Sensing what was happening, Angela cuddled me and held me through the shakes, while I kept both hands thrust between my legs; looking vaguely like a boy who had been kicked in the balls. It was only after that incredible climax had died down, that I was able to think again. First I resolved to actually DO the thing I had talked about earlier… molest my little sister in her sleep… probably in the morning. Second, I tried to finish up my recollection of the day (harder to do, now that I was relaxing after getting my rocks off. Still, I DID want to finish my mental review of the day…
As I said; Dad was cumming in my mouth; while I was barely aware that his ejaculation had distracted HIM from the job he had previously been doing on MY hot little hole… thank goodness for small favors. My orgasm combined with his, I couldn’t have handled. I wonder how those people in stories manage “simultaneous orgasms?” Sounds incredibly awkward to me.
After feeling one incredibly tasty squirt of thick hot cum wash against my tongue, I decided to partially go for Dad’s pleasure, as well as my own. (After all, he deserved it.) I jammed my head forward, and let the second big bulge surge through my father’s prick, ripple across my tongue, and on through where his swollen member was buried down my gullet.
I could tell from his reaction that felt incredibly good to Dad. Then I pulled back and caught a breath; once again barely avoiding choking on the third big squirt. After that, I held my breath; just working my throat muscles on and off my father’s prick; using the back of my throat like an interior vagina for Dad to jack off into.
I was well rewarded for my efforts. While SOME of Dad’s sperm went right down my throat, most of it did not. It seems that the tight squeeze of my throat kept Dad’s sperm bottled up in his prick until I pulled back far enough for the pressure to drop enough to let it out in my mouth; while the sensation of actually fucking me in the throat was enough for Dad to squirt more sperm in my body than even he thought he had in him. Dad was NOT disappointed that he had picked me over either of my two sisters.
I wondered just how much longer I could resist the idea of getting my father to “take my cherry” and squirt his sperm in my tummy from the other end, just like he does to my two sisters. They both insist that it’s even BETTER than swallowing cum; though I don’t see how that’s possible. I shuddered in another half-orgasm at the very thought. Somehow I knew my virginity’s lifetime could probably be measured in days at most, and probably only hours.
Well, at least if we did “make love properly” there wouldn’t be any “going to waste”, as whatever sperm didn’t end up in my vagina getting me pregnant would be there for me to clean up with my mouth. I stripped my father’s prick of each tasty drop of precious cream; shivering at the delicious thought combined with the equally delicious flavor of my own father’s cum.
By the time he finished, with his prick all wilted and small in my mouth, I felt like I had well over a half a cup of my father’s semen to swill around and enjoy the taste of. It couldn’t really have been over a few tablespoons, but it FELT like that much. God, was that good.
It was lying here after Dad went back to bed with Mother, still savoring the incredibly erotic taste of my own father’s seed in my mouth, that got me hot enough to masturbate… even after that incredible orgasm earlier.
As I said, I simply LOVE the taste of my father’s cum.
It isn’t often that I get more than just a taste.