If Dan and Erin hadn't been so caught up in the moment...
If Dan hadn't been so engrossed in pushing his length into his sister's hot, deep pussy...
If Erin had glanced away from her brother's face, twisted into an expression of ecstasy...
Perhaps one of them would have noticed the eye, peering through the crack between the folding doors that separated their rooms.
Perhaps they would have seen that eye, guessed at the expression of frantic lust on the face to which it belonged.
Perhaps...
*
John had married young, had kids young, and now, at the age of 42 with two grown up children and a wife whom he was desperately trying to still be interested in, he was regretting it.
He was horny all the time.
He found himself staring out of bus windows at the rain-soaked streets, fantasising about fucking every woman he saw. The tall, elegantly dressed 20 something with short, dark hair, sheltering under her umbrella. In his mind's eye he pictured her toned, curved back, her shoulders tensing as he plunged deep into her pussy.
He found himself unable to concentrate at parent-teacher meetings at Erin's school. Her English teacher was particularly sexy: short, curled hair tumbling over her dark shoulders - he thought she must be at least partly Indian - full lips, perfect for sucking and slobbering over his erect cock, heavy breasts beneath a loose top. He imagined her mouth clamped to his shaft, and completely forgot to listen.
His wife had noticed how distracted he'd been. The whole family had. His son, Dan had even commented that he seemed 'oblivious' to what was going on around him. But he wasn't. He was very aware of one thing that was happening in his home. His daughter, Erin, had become a young woman.
It had started with little glances: Erin, dressed in a long white t-shirt one morning, her hair scrunched up into a loose bun, tendrils of soft brown hair falling over her rounded, lightly blushing cheeks, her black panties just visible through the thin white material, bending down to look in the fridge. John had watched as her muscular, pure white thighs tensed, the bulge of her chest hanging, swaying as she reached into the fridge. And he'd felt his dick stir.
Then, there was the time a few days before they were due to go on holiday. It had been the last day of college and Erin had come in wearing her uniform, shouting 'Last time ever!' shrugging off her blazer and throwing it over the bannister at the bottom of the stairs. John had been sitting in the living room and Erin had come straight in, plonked herself down on the couch right next to him, grabbed his face and planted a huge kiss on his cheek.
'I can't believe school is FINALLY over!' she'd said, but John hadn't been able to concentrate. He'd been too busy thinking about the fact that her bare, toned thigh was pressed hard against his; in fact, her skirt had ridden up slightly when she sat down and he could see a lot more thigh than usual. He'd been too busy noticing the black bra through her thin cotton blouse, the smell of her hair, sweet, intoxicating... and then she'd gone, tits bouncing as she leapt up from the couch.
That afternoon had been the first time he'd actually masturbated to the thought of fucking his daughter.
Sure, he'd felt a little disgusted with himself, but it was all just fantasy, right? No one would ever know. Besides, as of a few days earlier, she was eighteen.
He'd taken out his heavy cock in the bathroom and started stroking it, lightly, imagining his daughter's innocent lips parting slightly to accept the head of his penis as he pushed it into her waiting mouth. He imagined her on her knees before him, still in uniform, the straps of her bra visible on her rounded, slight shoulders. He imagined his fingers in her hair as her sucking became more insistent, taking more and more of his hardening cock into her sweet young mouth, pulling her head towards the base of his shaft until she could take no more. The gagging, slurping sounds and the feel of suction on his cock, his daughter's tongue running up and down his length, pre cum leaking from the corners of her mouth...
Eyes closed, he fired his load onto the bathroom floor and fell to his knees, shuddering.
He didn't even feel guilty. If anything, this felt right. He knew this would be the first of many orgasms inspired by his daughter, not least because they were due to go on holiday in a couple of days' time - a prime opportunity to see Erin in a skimpy bikini.
What John didn't realise, was that he was going to see a lot more than that.
*
That night - the night his children, Dan and Erin, had first explored each other, hiding away in their upstairs rooms - John had been shovelling overcooked meat into his mouth at the 'charming' local restaurant recommended in the guidebook.
As Dan had first slipped his fingers into Erin's skimpy, tight-fitting shorts and she had shuddered with pleasure, John had been staring across the table at the wife he didn't love anymore, sitting in a silence that had gone on too long to be broken.
Miserably, he reached for the wine bottle, poured another large glass and downed it greedily, desperate for the fug of alcohol to settle on his brain.
'Maybe slow down a bit...' his wife said, indicating the almost-empty wine bottle with her eyes.
John just stared at her.
It wasn't that she was unattractive. In fact, John was sure other men in the restaurant were looking at her.
She had made a big effort, and it depressed him all the more that this had become routine, something he took for granted.
At 39, Karen was a few years younger than him and, to an outsider's eye at least, still looking hot. She'd had Dan and Erin when she was still very young - in fact, she'd had Dan when she was still at college - and her body had had a long time to recover from the trauma of childbirth.
In look, she was the classic English rose. Soft white skin, an easy blush to her cheeks, rich brown hair and a fair complexion. Her figure had filled out over the years, and the push up bra she'd chosen to wear tonight accentuated her cleavage and heavy bust; beneath her tight black dress nestled breasts which, from John's forbidden observations, their daughter Erin had inherited: full, heavy and pouting, with light pink, perfectly proportioned nipples.
'Don't just stare at me... say something.'
John snapped out of his daze long enough to mutter, 'You know, telling me to say something makes me far less likely to say anything...'
'Well why don't you just fuck off home then, you miserable twat...' She'd always had that sassy side to her; a vicious tongue and a devilish glint in her eye that called to mind buxom barmaid far more than innocent rose. John had used to get off on it, he reflected. 'You've been nothing but a misery since we got here. This was supposed to be it John, our last chance to do something nice as a family. And...' she added, 'another chance for me and you.'
As their daughter Erin tossed her brother's stained trunks to the floor and stripped off her cut off tee, causing her pink and creamy teen breasts to bob invitingly, John and his wife sat silently, staring at each other. John said nothing.
'You know what then, fuck it. You do whatever the fuck it is that makes you happy and I'll do the same,' she said, standing up suddenly. 'There's dancing here after the food. Who knows, perhaps I'll find a man who can satisfy me!' She turned and stormed off.
John watched her ample ass, clad in a figure-hugging black dress, as it disappeared into the darkness of the restaurant.
He sat for a minute, wondering if he cared enough to do anything, to follow her, to apologise. Then he grabbed the wine bottle and left.
Outside, the moon was shining on the ocean and, as John began the five minute walk back to their villa, wine bottle swinging at his side, Erin grabbed her brother's cock and guided it smoothly into her dripping pussy.
*
As John reached the door of the villa he took a final swig from the wine bottle then tossed it into the undergrowth. He drunkenly fumbled his key into the lock and opened the door.
Inside, the lights were off, but the TV in the living area was playing mutely to a dark room and a half eaten bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table. John switched off the TV, grabbed the bowl and took it into the kitchen, then headed upstairs.
Kids have gone to bed early, he thought, glancing at his watch.
As he reached the first floor landing he heard a noise. A gasp. It sounded like a gasp. Or a moan. It was coming from upstairs.
His stomach did a back flip. Was something going on up there? Were the kids ok?
'Dan? Erin?' he called, softly. There was no reply.
John climbed the stairs to the second floor and stood for a moment on the tiny landing. Both doors were shut, but he could hear the gasps, louder now. They seemed to be coming from Dan's room.
John raised his hand to knock, but something stopped him. Intrigued, he pressed his ear to the door, then drew away quickly in shock. He knew those sounds. A wet slapping. Moaning. Gasps. He felt his cock harden.
But surely... No...
John thought about his daughter in her school uniform, dark bra showing through the pure white blouse, skirt riding up her toned thighs. He thought about her in one of her oversized tees with nothing underneath, heavy, pouting breasts swinging and full. And he made a decision.
Silently, he opened the door to Erin's room and crept through the darkness to the adjoining folding doors. They had been pulled shut but had slid back a little on their tracks, leaving a sizable gap through which a low yellow light spilled.
The sounds were much louder in here. He could hear his daughter moaning with pleasure. His cock felt ready to burst out of his trousers. It pressed urgently against the waistband. John knelt down by the doors. This was it. He was all in.
He pressed his eye to the crack.
At first, all he could see was rhythmic movement, but as his eye focussed, he saw his daughter's beautiful bare back, smooth and white, her soft brown curls bobbing and tossing as she rode.
He saw her perfect teen ass, grinding, and there, her gaping vagina, clenched tightly around a thick shaft. If only that was me, he thought, watching as she moved slickly up and down the thick length. And whose length was that exactly? It could only be Dan!
John reached down and unbuttoned his trousers at the waist, then dived his hand into his boxers and wrapped his fist around his aching cock. He masturbated in time with the movements of his daughter, imagining his cock peeling back in Erin's tight pussy.
As he watched and tugged, the couple shifted on the bed as their fucking grew more insistent, and the side of Erin's exposed breast came into view, round and full, bouncing wildly as she ground ever more enthusiastically.
John also saw the face of her lover for the first time, and his suspicions were confirmed. Well, if it couldn't be him, then he guessed his son was the next best thing.
What's more, if Erin was willing to fuck her brother, perhaps...
A sound from downstairs startled him from his reverie. The front door. He pushed his eye back against the crack. Dan and Erin hadn't heard. They were in a world of their own. All that existed for them was cock, wetness, breasts, wet mouths, firm flesh, deep warmth.
