Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction and does not reflect the views or values of the author, nor does the author endorse any of the actions of the fictional characters herein. If you are having thoughts or urges pertaining to the abuse of a real human being, please seek psychological treatment urgently before you harm anyone. The actions contained within this work of fiction are reprehensible and evil, but are written here for purposes of pure escapism and fantasy. All characters are at least 18 years of age.
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Darryl backed away shakily from the poolside hedge where he'd been sneaking a smoke away from the prying eyes of his strict parents and spoiled sister. The ashes of the long-forgotten cigarette dropped from the cold butt in his hand as he struggled to take in everything he'd just overheard. His father had raped his mother? Then married her when he found out she was pregnant with him and Lacey? And now his uncles knew too and seemed fine with it?
He'd always known his dad was an asshole and treated his mother like shit, but he had no idea how bad it was. 'Poor mom,' he thought as he gazed towards the neat little house that she'd managed for the past 18 years.
All of that cooking, cleaning, juggling bills, soccer practice, college applications, neighborhood cookouts, family get togethers, shopping, organizing and on top of ALL of that he had her greet him at the door in nothing but an apron too? Darryl shuddered at the thought of her in her little frilly plaid apron bent over his dad's lap with her ass hanging out while he stroked himself in and out of her mouth. It was a strangely evocative thought. Darryl snapped himself out of his thoughts as he heard his twin sister calling for him from behind the hedge. Quickly he tossed the untouched butt behind his shoulder and made his way back towards the party.
"There you are!" Lacey exclaimed in exasperation as she rounded the corner, hair askew and firm little tits bouncing with every angry step, "I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"What's up sis?"
"Moms looking for you dumbass, she needs help in the house for party stuff, and now I'm out here chasing you down for some reason. Can you please just go so she'll get off my case already? It's MY party I don't wanna be stuck in the house the whole time!"
Darryl sighed and rolled his eyes, technically they'd only been born an hour apart, but Lacey had been born two minutes from midnight and so their birthdays on two consecutive days. She constantly rubbed it in that she was older than him, and though he'd never admit it, it still got to him a bit.
"Alright sorry, I was just getting kinda sick of Annie hitting on me constantly— can you tell her to back off, she's not my type and it's getting on my nerves"
It was Lacey's turn to roll her eyes this time. "Bullshit, Annie asked you out ONCE and she's got a new guy now she's totally over you. Plus I know you were back here smoking, you fucking reek. I'm not gonna tell dad, but just be more discreet, it's really obvious." With a flip of her auburn hair, she turned on her heel and traipsed back towards her party, her ample hips swaying with each step.
Darryl admired her figure for a moment. She had wide hips like their mother, but she didn't have that petite hourglass figure that his father had so admired. She was tall and willowy, with soft skin and long, toned limbs. The perfect physique for basketball team captain, and their school's most wanted sexpot. It was no secret that she slept around and had no qualms about who knew. He admired that about her, she was confident in herself and what she wanted, but her brashness rubbed him the wrong way sometimes.
For himself, he wanted a woman like their mother; quiet and unassuming, someone who wouldn't rock the boat too much. He'd always been good in school, and had managed to skip ahead a grade, even getting a full ride with his swimming scholarship. He had big plans for the future, and wanted to share them with someone who saw things the way he did.
He swung open the door to the kitchen and finally found his mom, balancing precariously on the seat of a barstool in her tiptoes, trying to reach toward the top shelf with all of her 5 feet and 3 inches, but failing quite spectacularly. "Darryl! Thank god you're here honey, come help me reach this jug of olive oil, it all the way back there," she said, pointing towards the top shelf as she climbed down, her see-through linen dress riding up slightly as she bent down to stabilize herself. Darryl tried his best to avert his gaze, but out of the corner of his eye he could still see her ample bosoms straining against the thin fabric of her candy-colored bikini.
Dad had probably bought that for her, he thought distractedly as he moved to take her place on the barstool; that horny old pervert only ever wanted her dressed like a playboy bunny, and he'd paid the price for it in school when all the other boys joked about how much they wanted to bang her. He gritted his teeth as he remembered dozens of falling-outs with friends any time "Stacy's mom" started playing on the radio. He swiped angrily at the jug of olive oil someone had carelessly tossed on the highest shelf; probably shit shit-head dad playing a 'joke' on mom.
As he pulled the jug down from its spot, he looked down and noticed his mother readjusting her top, and a flash of dusky pink nipple caught his eye. Fuck. His fingers went numb for a moment as his teenage boner started to spring to life. From that angle she would clearly see it, he thought in a panic. Quickly he tried to use his other hand to readjust the waistband of his trunks, without realizing he'd lost his grip on the jug.
For a moment everything turned to slow motion, as Darryl realized how badly he'd fucked up.
His left hand was still down his pants, while the barstool skittered out from beneath his feet. The jug of oil landed hard on the edge of the marble countertop where it exploded all over his shocked mother, who let out a terrified scream as she too lost her footing and began to flail about comically in a futile attempt to regain her footing.
