A New Day Dawning

I was trying to prepare myself for the most horrible story anyone could ever tell a middle-aged mother of three grown kids. I had taken the precautionary step of adding some 80-proof sweetener to our drinks and taken a big gulp because I had been forewarned that the following tale would be a bitter pill to swallow. I made a mental note to control my blood pressure and watched intently as my nineteen-year-old daughter Christy first inhaled deeply and then haltingly began the crude narrative that would outline the future confusingly-intertwined history of our family sexual dynamic. A sordid and twisted story that no mother should ever have to hear from her daughter... or anyone else for that matter. It was just a surreal adventure into debauchery that I hoped I was strong enough to stomach.

And still, with my daughter's first utterance that began with, "We have all been sleeping together for about a year..." I shrieked and nearly dropped my coffee mug on the rug. It was a jolt to my senses and my morality. Both of which were under an unseemly attack. But really, if I had started my side of the conversation first, it might have been Christy who nearly spit her coffee out through her nostrils and gasped in horror. And wondered if morality was merely a quaint ideal in this "me-first generation."

Or maybe not. Since I now had a chilling reason to believe that both Christy and her older sister Linda, not only knew in advance about my own little incestuous affair with their brother Jason, but very possibly helped in the arrangements and were looking forward to an outcome that might provide even more sexual fireworks. As for Jason, what can I add? My first born and apparently the suave, sensuous irresistible type, had scored the super-rare trifecta of having bedded both of his sisters at one time and then added his mother's panties as the coup-de-gras. My brain was whirling with distasteful and forbidden scenes and a throbbing ache started behind my eyes that left me virtually incapacitated. Any normal response to this acrid discovery would be wholesale therapy sessions and family counseling. But then, I wouldn't have this ribald, incestuous tale to tell.

After this morning's blockbuster dual-confessions, I asked for a brief parting so that we could both collect our thoughts and resume this sordid chronicle with atleast an arm's-length distance from the crude tryst that we had all played a considerable part in. So, we separated to clear our thoughts and to be able to credibly explain to the other, why everything that happened was awful; but each one of our little parts in it, were forgivable because no one got hurt and the closeness was actually good for the family. It was these little diversions into Bovine Scatology that allowed us to accept what we couldn't change anyway and to hope that the dim light at the end of the tunnel was not just another oncoming train.

I took a long hot shower to wash away the lingering filth of my own role in this kink-fest and the nightgown that had once been a favorite before I was attacked and seduced while wearing it, had been relegated to the rag bag. Christy came back after a long walk looking refreshed but wary, she was about to deliver some extreme news and hoped that I respected the role of the "messenger" in this transference of disturbing information.

All three of my children lived with me in a large house that my deceased husband's insurance had provided, since he wasn't much good for anything else. The two girls had bedrooms on opposite ends of the first floor and Jason had the entire furnished basement. My room was on the second floor. I was thinking about those logistics while in the shower and could see how the sexual shenanigans could be perpetrated in secrecy. Every lewd detail known or imagined, brought vulgar images to my mind. Now it seemed, that the only thing we could do would be to make certain that these "indiscretions" could be kept in the family and the sexual urges and connections could be managed and contained. Am I going crazy or am I just searching for some "familial loophole" that will allow us all to tumble into bed with each other and to insert body part "A" into body cavity "B" with ample impunity.

We resumed our conversation after lunch when we were the only one's home, though why we needed the seclusion, I guess was only a matter of formality, since it seems that I was the only person not yet completely in on the secret. This is a situation that no parenting book quite covers. My daughter and I settled on the couch for an uncomfortable "tea-time" chat. The topic being how three seemingly mature women could all have had sex with the same guy, under the same roof, and knowing that the guy was either a brother or son. It started awkwardly and got worse from there.

She was attempting to appear mature beyond her years yet still remember that it was her mother, that she was about to open-up to, about the dark side of sex. Christy wanted to begin by asking me for more details about my previous night's debasement with my son. I was not quite ready to admit to my perversions until I understood the extent of this family compunction with incest. I interjected that she mentioned earlier that her story began by inadvertently catching her two elder siblings having sex.

I assured her that I was willing to listen- if not totally condone whatever more I was about to hear- so, taking one more big swig of my liquid confidence, I sat back and signaled my consent. Christy looked as if she were in a police interrogation room under a bright light. I could see the goose-flesh ripple her arms and watched her velvety tongue wet the lush pink lips as her hooded brown eyes darted between mine and her painted, pink toenails.

"Mom," she hesitantly began. "I can only tell you my side of all this, you should probably hear it from Linda or Jason, but because I've questioned them both trying to figure-out the logistics, I can give you the basic outline." I could see that she used the long walk to rehearse this small preamble, and the thing that captured my attention most, was that she wasn't exactly contrite but was merely trying to excuse or ameliorate her participation and subterfuge. If this is what I was going to get from my nineteen-year-old, then I'd imagine the older two would be preaching like sexual evangelists.

Ofcourse, I had to be careful about the amount of definitive, incriminating evidence she already had on me. It was evident that they all talked and I guessed that she was on her phone instantly to gather information. Nobody was pure here, there were only levels of debauchery and incest to be labeled. That might have been the source of her comparative boldness. So, I let her continue with her story, only interrupting with random inquiries about modesty and repentance, or when the sudden gasps of air brought-on by the stupefying catalog of carnal inhibitions nearly strangled me.

"Remember last summer when you visited Aunt Ruth and stayed until her baby was born, the three of us were on our own for about six weeks?" I smiled and nodded lovingly, thinking that this is the type of family memory we should be talking about, not what I now anticipate happened, while I was tending to the need of my younger sister. "When we were alone, the two of them got much closer." I understood what she was implying but I needed more clarification. If they wanted me to accept this narrative and to somehow grant my blessing to it, I would require more facts. She was ready with the answers, it was actually verbalizing the demeaning and derogatory terms that caused her anguish.

[This is how Christy's version of events began]

Apparently, they both came home from separate nights of partying and were more than a little drunk and not-at-all excited about their evenings. I had been in bed when I heard the racket and tip-toed to the edge of the basement steps, where I could see and hear them down in Jason's room. They were both sitting on his bed and from his small refrigerator, he produced a six-pack and a chilled bottle of something. Linda's stockings were torn, and she was bitching about having lost an earring, while tussling with a very handsy guy that she had been set-up with. Jason said his nice shirt had gotten a beer dumped down the back and he had a bad case of "blue balls" because a girl that he bought drinks for all night, left with someone else.

I could see in the darkened room that the television was on and for some reason, there was a porn movie playing. They weren't paying much attention to it and seemed mostly to just want to continue the drunkenness while laughingly complaining about their respective failures in the dating pool. I never saw two people drink so fast, especially since they had been out all evening. It wasn't long before Jason was wearing only his jeans and Linda was down to her halter-top and leather skirt. They were both bare-legged and swilling from the bottle and by now- only minutes after they'd arrived home, they were both laying back in his bed critiquing the porno and getting comfortable being half-dressed and in such close contact.

He was saying that her tits were nicer than the plastic ones of the girl in the movie, which made her giggle. She answered that the sex-scenes would appear more natural if the man attempted to ensure that the woman enjoyed herself. I figured it was just the inebriated ramblings and boastings of siblings who knew that this would result in a convenient lapse of memory and a dull headache in the morning. I was about to return to bed when Linda asked if he really thought that she had nicer tits than the porn star. He replied that there was only one sure way to tell. Everything happened so fast at that point that I thought I had fallen asleep for a second.

To "prove his sincerity" Jason's hands were under her shirt and in the next moment her arms were above her head and the shirt, and her bra, were being tossed aside. She truly does have nice tits. I know that she's a full cup size larger than me, and when he had them "in the flesh," he wasted no time groping and suckling on them. This is apparently a weakness of my sister's and she made it known that if a man knew how to approach her correctly, he could have a good time with her full breasts. Jason acted as if he never heard of such a thing and was willing to learn. I watched as he seemed to weigh them in his palms and to circle the pinkish areolae with his tongue, while kissing the delicate undersides of her plump tits and remarking on their tenderness. Linda squirmed on the bed and moaned deeply, while her hands combed through his thick hair and she coiled her legs around his lean body.

To further tutor him in the proper care of her D-cups, she held-out each breast to him and offered her nipples for him to softly caress and to nip at the engorged nipples with his teeth, driving her wild. He fondled each one and as she squealed in delight, he gradually tugged harder and his grip tightened, listening as her sultry wails grew ever more husky and charmingly insistent. Her shaky hands held his head steady as she guided his mouth to her firm, stout tits.

Her breath was coming in quick, gasping spurts and her head lulled back while her body arched. When opened, her chocolaty brown eyes rolled back until only the whites showed and she mumbled lewd, suggestive comments that urged him onward. His kneading and licking never ceased and I saw his other hand slowly slip under her skirt, which was now riding high on her abdomen, and into the waistband of her tiny, dampened panties. She let-out a low, purring howl and allowed the moist undies to be drawn down her bare thighs and then added to the pile of warm, wrinkled clothing that was collecting under the bed. Her skirt joined the heap and she was unabashedly naked and willing, writhing on her brother's bed. The porno on the TV took-on a secondary role.

Jason knew exactly what he was doing and he understood now, that Linda would not complain as long as she was rewarded for her complimentary role in this little debauchery. Everything played-out well for those involved. The pressure rose and libidos soared. Each movement caused a vibration. Wet bodies slithered and melded together. She looked so much as if she were approaching sexual ecstasy, that I snaked my own hand under my flimsy pajama top and squeezed my tits, too.

I cupped each firm, rounded mound and my fingers compressed the soft flesh around the tender nips and my palm abraded the pinkened area at the tips. I tried to close my eyes and imagine myself on that bed. It wasn't nearly the same! But I knew that when I returned to the privacy of my own bed, I would soon be imitating my brother's hand movements between my own thighs, so I watched every motion intently. I've had sex twice before but both times I was too nervous to enjoy it and neither guy managed to do any more for me than I could do myself. Besides, though a few guys have played with my tits and one even sucked on them rather sweetly, my true pleasure center is my pussy. My mind was wandering.

I was distracted by an abrupt sound and I turned to watch. There was a squishing noise coming from Linda's pubic triangle along with a trilling hum from her puckered lips. And his long, thick fingers pumped in and out of her fiery cunt like a piston engine. Her cunt lips were reddened as if blushing from the inappropriate manipulations. Juices were freely flowing, lubricating the darkened path that his probing digits followed in and out of her steamy cavern. She writhed on the bed, her body twitching and twisting in a series of convulsions and she hooted and screamed obscenities.

She was by turns one after the other, whispering and begging for something close to his ear and shrieking at the top of her lungs that she would do anything if he made her cum. She was seconds away from liftoff and he was shaking like a leaf on a tree. Together, the two of them lunged and tore at his pants. The belt buckle made a clinking and swooshing noise as it was disengaged and yanked swiftly through the belt loops. He wiggled out of his pants like a contortionist and soon they were both naked. I next saw his firm naked ass as he mounted her and I could see him struggling, with her assistance, to direct his hardened pole inside of her quivering pussy.

My view only permitted a side angle, but it was clear that he was suddenly now balls-deep in her volcanic cunt and he pounded her insides like he was driving a stake into fertile ground. Her eyes closed tightly and he had the look of a man determined to drive his head through a wall. My fingers began to trace a well-traveled path to the erogenous zone at my "Y." As they pressed their lascivious performance to its climax, I followed with the tried-and-true two-fingered rub of my pouty clit. My pussy worked in unison with what I was watching, and my eyes shut to experience with my mind, what those two were feeling in the moist flesh. I wanted to know that sense of perverse and lurid sex, so hot and so shameful that it couldn't be shared with anyone who hadn't known the experience. I was antsy to see more but aware that what I was witness to, was a display of incestuous hedonism that could haunt the family forever.

Regardless of the illicit consequences, I was enthralled by the sexual intensity and moral abandonment of my older brother and sister. My own PJs were feeling warm, dank and confining. The upper part was clinging to my heaving chest and the gusset of my bottoms was already fighting to absorb the creamy liquid oozing from my lusty loins. Finally, after prolonged and heavy rubbing, the buttons of my top were undone, allowing the cool air to refresh my hot skin and for my perky nipples to sprout proudly, hungering to be pinched and nibbled. I needed to shift the damp cheeks of my ass to quietly slide my soggy bottoms down to my ankles, allowing me the freedom to pleasure my horny cunt while noticing for the first time ever, the humiliating, musky aroma of my agitated pussy when aroused. My other hand had left my boobs and was now tickling the curly hairs that formed a tight, black VEE at the upper lip of my vulva, freeing my right hand to spread my outer lips and permit my exploring fingers to delve deep into my molten opening. I could feel the sticky flow coating my fingertips and running down the insides of my shaking thighs. I was quaking convulsively, and the familiar twitch was taking hold inside my tight little twat.

I leaned forward to secure a better glimpse of the erotic action, but the old wooden steps creaked. It sounded like thunder in my ears, but I thought that only I could hear it. It didn't appear to break their rhythm, but Linda seemed momentarily startled like when a dear senses the grass sway. She was on her back with her legs in the air, her toes wriggling and her big tits bouncing haphazardly on her sweaty chest. Jason was unconcernedly plowing a deep groove in her tight folds.

I was watching the serene yet determined expression on my sister's face as her entire anatomy was jolted and rebounded with the powerful thrusts from my brother's meaty frame. The bold muscles on his back and the strong forces generated by his hips were bouncing Linda's head against the headboard. Her eyes were clamped shut as if in heavy concentration and her brows were wrinkled as her soft lips hung open with drool forming. Her silky, brunette waves were haloed on the pillow but there was nothing angelic about her condition. She was swearing and urging Jason to continue and to thrust "harder, deeper and faster."

I felt dirty but I couldn't avert my eyes. Like a Peeping Tom, I was watching two people have sex and I was getting-off on it. But even worse, if I'd had any sense of propriety or if I had worried about the morality of my siblings, I would have shut-down this horrible, perversity before it got going. But I was captivated at the seduction. I could see that what began as Jason plying Linda with alcohol and complimenting her on her figure, a stratagem that no woman can refuse, took-on a life of its own. And I'm not even sure if Jason had any intention to seduce her until the soft talk and hard liquor proceeded to work. He definitely understood how to play the game and Linda seemed to be only waiting for someone who could make her feel this way. It was perfect... disregarding the whole incest thing.

Infact, it was working on me and I wasn't necessarily, even involved. The more that Linda permitted, the more Jason grabbed at. Was anyone at fault? Or was it all my fault? My body tingled with a lewd fascination. I wanted to see this seduction happen and yet I knew it was depraved and irreverent. And I somehow wished that I was in the middle of it. My body felt unexpectantly warm and wet. I ached to rip-off my clothes and join the crude coupling. And I wanted to see Jason fuck Linda. I could practically feel his thick column pounding deep inside my hungry pussy. My nerve endings sparked like electricity coursed through them and my own orgasm was a few strokes away. And I began to wonder how I would have reacted in the same situation. Was my resolve any stronger? Watching this physical, young stud use his tool so expertly and passionately made me nearly forget that he was my brother, and quite unconcerned that he was.

Jason was propped-up on his elbows and only his hips moved. He rammed back and forth into his writhing sister like a steam shovel hammering at a rock wall. He would take a minute to regather his strength and energy, holding back to take a breath and alternately kiss and then bite at her bouncing boobies. His perspiration dripped like rain on her quivering frame and their bodies glistened in the low, blue light of the TV. Then he would recommence and slam his forceful frame towards her undulating pelvis. On the upstroke he would roar with excitement and when his mighty cock bottomed-out in her cunt she would moan like a whore. I could see the thick, veiny column of white flesh spidered with bluish arteries as it popped in and out of her clinging cave. It looked so tempting that I needed to hold myself down and not reveal my presence to this depravity.