The Road to Sin

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

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None of this would have happened if my husband's medical problem hadn't been diagnosed shortly before our holiday. Chris is only 48 but for a while he'd been getting excessively tired and complaining of chest pains. When he went for a regular health check and mentioned this to the doctor a scan was arranged and we discovered, to our shock, that he had serious heart problems.

I'm Jacqui. I'm 44 and I work in Surrey as an assistant manager in a branch of a national chain of high-end department stores, a job I'd been finding pretty stressful. I have shoulder length pale-blonde hair, blue eyes and a rosy complexion, a snub nose and full lips. I've always been considered quite attractive – I did a bit of fashion modelling before our marriage, and I keep myself quite trim with Pilates, jogging on a treadmill and a low-sugar semi-veggie diet. Chris and I met through a church youth group and married when I was 22 and still a virgin. We wouldn't claim to be pillars of our local church but we are regular attenders. Our daughter, Amy, who's just turned 20, stopped going a few years ago – I wasn't happy about it but we can't force her.

Anyway, as I was saying, Chris and I had a holiday booked at a Greek island resort – the name doesn't matter. We were due to leave only two weeks after he'd received the bad news. Amy had surprised us by saying she'd like to - come – she hadn't holidayed with us since she was 17 but I think she was seduced by the thought of the warm Aegean sun. Chris was advised that he shouldn't fly until he'd been fully assessed and started treatment; I wanted to cancel so I could support him, but we'd already paid the full cost. Chris encouraged me to go, saying I needed a break and he'd be fine for the short period I'd be away.

He was right, I felt a relaxing break form my job in the sun would do me the world of good, but to be honest Amy and I hadn't been getting on very well for a little while and I worried about how we'd get along on a week alone together. I told her her dad couldn't go, half-expecting she would suggest cancelling. Instead, she asked "Well, if we've got a spare place could my friend from college come with us?" I pointed out that we only had two apartments booked at the resort but Amy said that would be fine, Nicole could sleep on the bed settee that was situated in her apartment.

I'd never heard of this Nicole before, and before I definitely agreed I asked Amy to invite her over for dinner one day. When they arrived together, I was rather surprised, to say the least, by Nicole's appearance. She was Afro-Caribbean, 22 years old, her bare shoulders and arms like polished teak in the midnight blue silk dress she wore, cut low behind to reveal her skin almost to the small of her back. She had huge eyes with arched brows, a wide nose, pouting lips. And a dazzling white smile With a mass of hair piled up on her head and in kitten heels she towered over me like some Amazon goddess (I'm five-feet-five), broad-shouldered and with boobs I estimated to require a C or D cup. To say she presented an exotic appearance would be a gross understatement.

I'm a little ashamed that I was embarrassed to have Nicole in my home, and a little nervous as to how to behave and speak around her. I really don't think I'm racially prejudiced but I'd never really known any people of colour, unless you count the Singhs who run the local convenience store. There had been one Nigerian student who'd temped at my work but she and I hadn't really got on very well and I'd terminated her early. In fact we had a very pleasant evening, Nicole, who spoke with a South London accent, seemed cultured and charming, and when she'd left I felt a little happier about her joining us on holiday. Chris had really taken to her, and told me "It'll be fine, you can do the shops and eat with them and the rest of the time they'll be off on their own and you can relax by the pool with a good book."

On the first day of the holiday Amy, Nicole and I travelled to the airport together and had a good flight. We arrived mid-evening, settled into out adjoining apartments and ate at one of the resort's restaurants then spent the evening relaxing in the bar. The next day the girls slept in late while I breakfasted and sunned myself, then after a light lunch we strolled down to the nearby village to explore. After the chill of an English spring the warmth of the sun was delightful and we had a pleasant afternoon. We spotted a picturesque taverna and decided to have dinner there. I couldn't help noticing how touchy-feely Amy and Nicole seemed, frequently touching each other's arms, brushing strands of hair behind ears and so on.

I soon noticed a noisy group of scruffily-dressed local 20-somethings at a nearby table, swilling beer from bottles. They began pointing at the oblivious Nicole and chuntering among themselves, laughing. When a couple of them shouted offensively racist comments in broken English in our direction I bristled. Nicole rolled her eyes but told me to leave it; however, when they continued I slammed my cutlery down, stalked over to their table and told them exactly what I thought of their childish, bigoted behaviour. I could hear them sniggering behind my back as I walked away but they did quiet down, and left soon afterwards. When we got back our resort, before she followed Amy into their apartment Nicole gave me a big hug, her chest pressing into me, and thanked me for what I'd done. I felt troubled though, the yobs' behaviour had made me reflect uncomfortably on how I'd first thought of her. I don't often pray but I did that night, that God and Nicole would forgive me my failings.

The next day I had booked a tour to an attractive part of the island, while the girls planned to swim and relax by the pool. Both wore bikinis and I was struck by the length of Nicole's slim legs – they seemed to go on forever. Overnight she had plaited Amy's short-cropped ginger-blond hair into a series of tight cornrows; Nicole herself wore her jet hair straight, hanging to the middle of her back.

My tour returned around lunchtime and I looked into the girls' apartment to see if they were there. It hadn't yet been serviced and the double bed was a crumpled mess. I was surprised to see that the sofa bed wasn't even folded down, a set of bedclothes neatly folded on it. Either Nicole was considerably more tidy than my daughter or, more likely, it hadn't been used. I thought nothing of it at the time – the double was a big one, probably more comfortable than the sofa, and if they wanted to both sleep in it that was up to them.

We met up by the pool in the afternoon and, while I had a swim, Amy and Nicole sunbathed. As I emerged Amy was laying face down on a lounger, her bra strap undone, and Nicole was sitting beside her, massaging sun lotion onto her back. They were so intent on what they were doing that it took them probably 15 seconds to notice I was standing beside them. On seeing me Nicole leapt to her feet with a small squeak and avoided my eyes in what seemed almost a guilt-ridden way.

Over dinner and in the bar a kind of suspicion started to tick away in my mind. The touching and stroking between the girls continued and started to irritate me; and when they thought I wasn't watching or paying attention they were whispering to each other and giggling. In short, they were behaving more like young lovers than friends. When we moved to the bar I made sure I sat next to Amy, with Nicole across to her, but that didn't stop them touching hands across the table, and I momentarily caught a glimpse of Nicole's bare dark foot stroking Amy's ankle. That night I had trouble sleeping, and realised I was obsessed with what might be happening next door. Feeling ashamed of myself I even crept to the adjoining door and pressed my ear to it but I heard nothing but an occasional soft snore.

In the morning I felt tired and grumpy whereas Nicole and Amy were full of the joys of spring. Both were dressed in shorts and lose cotton shirts, with their bikinis underneath, as beach wear wasn't allowed on the streets of the village. They told me they were going to walk along the beach to the sand dunes some distance away. A few minutes later I watched them from the window of my apartment as they left the complex, and something about the intimate way each had an arm curled around the other's waist made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

Without even realising I'd decided to, I rushed down the stairs and set out to follow them. I trailed through the village's main street about 30 yards behind them as they walked, hand in hand, browsing shop windows, trying on sunglasses and hats, picking out postcards. At one point Nicole looked back along the street in my direction and I ducked into a shop doorway, pretending to be engrossed in a guidebook which was actually written in German. I thought she may have seen me but she showed no sign of having done so as they continued to stroll in the direction of the grassy concrete path that ran along the edge of the beach.

The route was more exposed there and it was less easy not be seen; I dropped back a bit and dodged from bush to bush, trying not to look too ridiculous to anyone who saw me. Neither girl looked behind them as they meandered onwards, but after a while I lost sight of them among the rolling dunes. It was early in the season and that area was deserted, the only sounds the small wavelets rolling into shore and the occasional call of a bird wheeling overhead. I crept around, trying to see my quarry but not be seen. I was about to give up when I heard my daughter squeal "Nicky, we can't not here!"

It appeared to come from a large bank of sand to my right and on all fours I crept slowly up it. At the top I saw a glimpse of dark flesh below me and ducked down. I cautiously raised my head again and had to stifle a shocked gasp: the girls were laying on a beach towel, just ten yards below me, Amy's shirt and bikini top discarded, her hands cradling Nicole's head, which bobbed on my daughter's chest as Nicole's mouth licked and sucked at her breast. I raised a hand to my mouth in horror. As I watched, one of Nicole's hands slipped under the waistband of Amy's shorts. Amy lowered her hands and tore at the fastenings then, between them, the two girls tore off the shorts and bikini pants. Within moments Nicole's head was nestled between my child's thighs, her face buried in Amy's vagina. Appalled as I was, a tiny part of my brain registered my nipples stiffening in arousal as I watched.

I felt myself sliding back down the sand, tears stinging my eyes. I felt I should have shouted out, I wanted to scream, but I was too shocked and embarrassed. As I stood I heard Amy emit a wordless wail. I don't even remember the walk back to my apartment, until the moment when a car horn blared angrily and I found myself standing in the road, a few yards from the resort, a yellow taxi inches from me, the driver mouthing angrily at me through the windscreen.

Back in the apartment I slumped into a chair and sobbed. I've never been one of those Christians who believe homosexuals should burn in Hell, but there's a big difference between general tolerance and watching another woman performing an intimate sex act on your naked daughter on a public beach. Wiping my eyes with an antimacassar from the chair back I tried to clear my head and think what to do. It seemed clear to me that I needed to separate them and have a frank conversation with Amy. If this was just a mad fling it had to end; if it was more, well, I didn't think I could accept a lesbian living under my roof.

I decided I needed to go for a swim to calm myself down and ease the tension that was making my body ache. I had just changed into my backless swimsuit and walked into the half-kitchen to run myself a glass of water when I heard the interconnecting door to the girls' room open and close. Hoping it was Amy, but petrified as to how I was going to handle the situation, I turned away from the sink, to see Nicole standing at the archway entrance to the kitchen, dressed in just her bikini. With a breezy smile she started to ask if we were going to have a late lunch together, but whatever expression my face revealed stopped her cold. She rested her hands on her hips, her smile changing to something more challenging, and asked quietly, "Well Jacqui, did you enjoy the show?"

She barked a laugh as my jaw dropped with the realisation that she'd seen me watching them. Trying to recover my composure I snapped, "I'm Mrs Oliver to you. I want you to stay away from my daughter."

Still grinning at me, raising an eyebrow, she replied "That's going to be difficult, us being on holiday together."

Feeling my cheeks heating with annoyance and embarrassment I spluttered "When we get back home, then you leave Amy alone and have nothing more to do with her you...pervert."

Nicole feigned surprise. "Oh, I see Mrs O, you think I corrupted your sweet innocent daughter. Believe me, naughty Amy's taught me a new trick or two since she came onto me." She obscenely flicked her tongue in and out a few times, like a snake tasting the air."

I felt a shock as if I'd been slapped in the face and turned back to the sink, gripping it for support, not wanting to believe what she'd told me. I dropped my head, not sure if I was about to be sick. When Nicole next spoke, she was standing very close behind me. "You know Mrs O, you're every bit as, erm, fanciable as Amy."

I stiffened as two soft points pressed into my back: for a moment I thought they must be her fingers, then I realised with shock that it was her bare nipples. Suddenly struggling to breathe I snapped "What the hell do you think..."

Before I could get any further a hand slipped down the back of my swimsuit. A long slim finger slipped between my bum cheeks; it flexed, wiggling for a moment inside my anus, then onwards until the tip actually stroked the rear of my pussy. I felt paralysed, rendered incapable of either speaking or moving, almost incapable of breathing, by this astonishing assault. It lasted only a few seconds, then I sagged against the sink as Nicole's hand withdrew. With a chuckle in her voice she said "I'll tell Amy you don't want to join us for lunch then" and left.

On shaky legs I went for a walk in the complex garden to relieve my tension, then spent the rest of the day in my apartment, snacking on the few items I'd stored in the half-kitchen, laying on the bed in a foetal position trying to straighten out my swirling, confused mind. At some point Amy shook me awake and asked if I was okay. I felt in no fit state to tell her how I was actually feeling so I just brusquely said I was fine but I wanted to spend the evening alone; she went away I think a little offended. I got up and tried to watch a bit of TV, then stripped off and slipped into bed: it was a sultry night and, even with the balcony door open, I felt too hot to wear my nightdress.

I had no idea what time it was when I heard the connecting door click shut, although it was still dark outside. I picked out the darker shape of a tall slim figure approaching my bed and sat up in surprise. Nicole's voice whispered "Amy's dead to the world and I feel lonely."

After our previous encounter I felt terrified. I tried to tell myself I managed eight women, most of them older than her, it was ridiculous of me to be intimidated by this immoral child. Yet I heard the tremor in my voice as I replied "Too bad, I'm tired and I don't want your company, now bugger off." I rarely use such strong language.

Apparently completely unperturbed, Nicole whispered "I don't think that's what you really want Jacqui." I shuffled back across the bed as she raised the corner of the duvet and slipped beneath it. Trying to sound more authoritative I snarled, "This is wrong, it's perverted and I don't want it. Go away right now, please." I felt the heat of her naked body as she leaned into me.

Feeling desperate now I edged back again, until my bum was pressed to the wall. I reached my hands out to push her away but they landed on her breasts and I withdrew them as if I'd cupped hot coals. Nicole made a sound somewhere between a throaty chuckle and an animal-like growl and dipped her head under the duvet. A moment later I felt hot breath on one of my boobs, followed by lips closing around my nipple and a tongue flicking it. A hand began tweaking and pinching my other nipple. I groaned "What if Amy wakes up?"

Through a mouthful of my boob Nicole mumbled "With the booze she's put away she's out cold till morning." Sobbing with alarm I pushed at her shoulders but she was immovable. My hips jerked involuntarily as fingertips tickled across my lower belly, exactly what Chris does at the start of foreplay. Nicole was half leaning across me now and she forced a hand between my thighs; I tried to resist but yelped as sharp fingernails painfully pinched my inner thigh, then she wormed her fingers forwards and several entered my pussy, which I registered with shock was wet and ready for her.

I was beginning to pant with unwanted arousal. As Nicole's mouth slipped from my breast down my ribcage and into my belly button I wheedled between gasps "Nicole, don't please, I really don't want this." She ignored me and I felt her tongue trailing across my pubes, then downwards again.

I was now lost. My thighs had already spread at the urging of her teasing fingers, and now my legs stiffened, toes flexing, as her tongue and teeth agitated my clit. In all our years of marriage Chris had never done this for me and it felt as if she'd lit a bonfire inside my belly. I heard wailing and realised it was coming from me, clamped a wrist to my mouth to try to stifle it. Nicole now swapped mouth and fingers, her tongue licking deep into me as her fingers massaged my button. Within moments I felt an explosion in my pussy, my brain began to spin like a carousel and my hips bucked over and over as I gushed to the most incredible orgasm of my life.

I slumped into the bed, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath, my pussy still twitching. Nicole straightened up and smacked her lips to mine. She forced her tongue between my slack lips and for the first time in my life I tasted my own love juices, sweet and salty at the same time. Then she placed her hand on top of my head and pushed it down onto one of her boobs. Meekly I opened my mouth and sucked, grazing my teeth across her big spongy nipple. I felt tears running from my eyes and dripping onto her skin, though I couldn't tell whether they were tears of shame or joy at my full sexual awakening. As I sucked her boob Nicole pressed a thigh between mine and rubbed it firmly against my pussy. Within seconds I began to heat up again and, as my hips began to kick at her stimulation she threw me onto my back and sucked at me again, wrapping her arms around my thighs to pull me more firmly onto her hungry mouth.

After a few minutes of us both laying on our backs, bellies heaving as we gulped air, I said weakly "Please, go now." Nicole rose from the bed and I thought she was going to, but instead she walked to the open balcony door and stood there, presumably enjoying the relative coolness of the night air. She looked magnificent, the light of the moon turning the front of her body a ghostly silver. I flicked an arm to throw the duvet off my torso, exposing my nakedness to my...rapist or lover?

I didn't resist when she returned to my bed, but I was confused for a moment when she straddled my chest. As she shuffled towards my face I realised what she had in mind and pleaded "Oh no Nicole, please, I can't..."

She chuckled again and muttered "It's my turn now." I opened my mouth to say something, god knows what, but that was the moment when she clamped her thighs around my cheeks, her pussy pressed to my mouth, the scent of her sex filling my nostrils. She ground against me until, seeing no alternative, I tentatively touched my tongue to her burning labia. She twitched and pressed even more firmly to me. I didn't know what to do, but her words and her fingers, wrapped threateningly in my hair, guided me. Her pussy was like a furnace as I explored it with my tongue, and it was only a few minutes before she began to rock back and forth and I felt her juice soaking my face.