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In case you couldn't already tell from the title and short description, this story features hardcore bisexual activity between a father and son. If you aren't into that, that's fine. Just go back and read something else.
I also mapped out detailed descriptions of what all three characters look like, but couldn't find a way to work it all organically into the story text. So those descriptions are included below.
Mom and Dad are in their early 50s, both graying at the temples. They lost their virginity to each other, and they've never been with anyone else before the story's events. The son has had a few college girlfriends and one-nighters.
Mom Annie (Annie May Turner) looks like she could be Amy Adams' older sister. She has auburn hair, hazel eyes and thick-rimmed glasses. An average/slightly curvy body type, D cups which have only recently started to sag. A thick bush (carpet matching the drapes) but she keeps it trimmed.
Dad Joe (Joseph Michael Turner) has a neat beard, dark brown hair, brown eyes, and has started developing a pot belly over the last couple years. Thick, dark body hair. 7 inch cock, circumcized and average thickness. His thick, dark bush is untrimmed.
Son Nick (Nicholas Charles Turner) is 24, a recent college grad living at home while trying to find a better job (he's currently a barista). Nick's a younger, more athletic doppelganger of Joe, with less body hair. His cock is thicker but identical width. Like his mother, he trims his dark pubic hair.
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Something was going on with his wife, and Joe Turner wasn't sure what started it. Over the past few weeks, Annie had grown distant, almost awkward around him. She didn't seem to want to have sex much, when up until a month ago they'd average at least twice a week. Hell, April and May was when she was usually at her horniest, so if anything, they should've been fucking way more than average.
He tried to reason with himself, thinking it was probably menopause finally catching up with Annie and killing her sex drive right off. But that didn't explain its suddenness, let alone the growing distance between them.
It finally bothered him enough to ask her about it one Wednesday night as they climbed into bed. They were both sitting up, Annie was about to start reading her novel.
He just came out with it. "Annie, is something wrong? You haven't been yourself the last few weeks. And we've only been intimate, what, maybe twice in the last month?"
Annie flinched a little, then took a moment to gather her thoughts. "I've been wanting to tell you, but haven't found the right moment. Plus I've been too scared to tell you. But... you're right, I'm sorry." She grabbed the pillow from behind her and held it against her chest like a life preserver. She stared at it intensely, unable to look her husband in the eyes.
Joe was silent, suddenly bracing himself for worse news than "menopause killed my libido."
"It's Nick." Their son. He'd finished college last fall, and had been living with them since graduation while he tried looking for work. "He and I, we..." she trailed off, struggling to get the words out. Her hands clenched the pillow, her knuckles turning white. "Nick and I... Oh god. I've been having an affair. With Nick." She pressed her face against the pillow.
Joe was shocked into silence. He so desperately wanted this to be some sort of twisted prank, but Annie was way too upset for this to be a joke. But there was no way he heard that correctly, was there?
Annie continued. "It just sort of...happened. I don't know. But never in this bed; never in our room." Like that was somehow the part he'd object to the most.
"Nick? Like, our son Nick?"
She nodded, still only looking at the pillow she was strangling. "I wanted to tell you right away, but..."
Confusion and denial were starting to give way to anger and betrayal. "Annie, what the fuck? You cheated on me? With our own fucking son?! That's...incest! Jesus Christ! What the fuck?"
Annie watched her husband's fists clench and open over and over. He'd never hit her before, but she'd never admitted to an affair before, either. She stayed silent and still, hiding behind the pillow.
"Tell me how it happened. Before I kick you both out onto the fucking street." Joe demanded through clenched teeth. The only reason he was still sitting in the same bed as her was because he was paralyzed with rage.
Annie couldn't see how that would help anybody, but she didn't dare risk provoking Joe by talking back. "That day you went out fishing with John and Tim? I was on the computer, trying to print my casserole recipe for Gwen. And the damn thing wouldn't print. Nick just came home from one of his runs, and he heard me cursing at the computer."
Annie looked up at Joe, who had found a very interesting piece of lint on the comforter to stare at.
"So he came over to help me. And he leaned over my shoulder - I was in the chair, y'know - and he went to grab the mouse at the same time as me, and our hands touched, and he smelled so good with his sweat, and I could feel his breath on my skin and he was breathing in my ear. And I was missing you, and..." She risked it. She reached out her hand and touched her husband's arm.
"Oh honey, he looked exactly like you at that age. When we first started seeing each other. And I guess I got confused, or caught up in the moment or something. But I... kissed him, like how we used to kiss. And-"
"Stop." Something she said broke through the thick fog of rage, hurt, disgust and confusion that was clouding Joe's mind. She still loved him. This wasn't because she hated him, it wasn't because he'd done something to upset her, hadn't neglected her. He was just away for the weekend and she missed him and felt nostalgic for their early days as a couple. "You... thought he looked like me, and you missed me. So, you still love me? You still...want me?"
The desperation in his voice was heartbreaking. Almost pathetic. "Oh Joe. Oh sweetheart. Of course I do!" She grabbed her husband by the head and pulled him towards her, nestling him between the pillow and her soft, warm breasts. "I'll always want you. Now and forever." She kissed his head.
Joe sat up and motioned for her to continue.
"Umm...you sure?"
He nodded.
"Okay... so I kissed him, and then he started kissing me back, and grabbing at my..." she pointed to her tits. "Then, I'm not sure, it all happened so fast. But we started undressing each other, and...fuck, Joe, he looks EXACTLY like you did. Before this." She stroked his beard.
"And this..." Joe grabbed his pot belly and gave it a jiggle. It wasn't a massive beer gut, but it had started to get away from him in recent years.
"So... I don't know..." Annie trailed off again, hoping she didn't have to continue telling her husband about the first time she fucked their son.
"So you and Nick undressed each other. Then what?"
"Then...then we made our way over to the couch, and..." She had to tread carefully here. She'd gotten Joe back onside but she knew how tenuous it was. But fuck if she wasn't getting turned on. Recalling your first time having spontaneous sex with a new partner, it was hard not to get caught up in the emotions again. "Fuck, it was so much like when we first got together. He was on top of me. Kissing me, and I was kissing him too, and he just...felt so much like you, honey." She started breathing heavily, pitching her voice down slightly. "And I mean everywhere. And we weren't thinking, just...just fucking."
Joe knew that voice. She was getting majorly turned on telling him about the first time she fucked her son. Their son. Nick. Who apparently looked so much like himself, she'd use Nick as a substitute Joe to fuck. Whose cock looked and felt so much like his own. He shifted his legs, drawing his knees up slightly to hide the erection that was starting to grow beneath the covers. "Keep going."
Annie pretended she didn't notice the bulge, or Joe's belated attempt to hide it. She locked eyes with Joe and turned to face him. She was safe now. "I don't think it lasted too long, but it was intense. He was on top of me, pounding me, looking into my eyes, sweat dripping onto me, panting and getting faster, and I'm holding him against me, and then I can see it in his eyes before he even says it."
"He's gonna cum," Joe nodded.
"And so I wrap my legs around him, pull him deep inside me, and I tell him. 'Cum for me, baby. Cum in me.' Then he does. And again, he looks just like you. And we kiss again. And I know I should feel gross, fucking my son. But I don't. But I do feel awful for doing it behind your back. And he says something about, 'Wow, that was crazy. We shouldn't have done that.' And I agree, but we both can't stop touching and holding each other. And his cock is still hard inside me, and it felt so fucking good. Then he tells me my pussy feels so tight, and I say his cock feels so thick, and I start fucking him again-"
Joe scoffed. "God, to be young again."
"But this time he starts sucking my tits, and I'm touching myself, rubbing my clit. And I'm moaning - stuff like 'Oh baby, oh Nick,' and he's saying 'Oh mom, oh fuck,' and I start rubbing harder, and before long I'm cumming, moaning his name, then he climbs off and pulls me up so I'm sitting on the couch. Then he sits next to me and like, points at his dick for me to climb on and start riding. So of course I hop on and we start fucking again. He's watching my tits bounce, then puts his hand down there and starts rubbing my clit while I'm riding him. And we start making out again until he makes me cum, when I start squealing, and he's not far behind me, and he cums inside me again. And then we hold each other, and...I don't know, one of us said we should shower. So I let him go first." She shrugged. "So that's how it started."
Joe nodded. "You actually got horny telling me all that, didn't you?"
"Well...maybe. Kinda. Yes. And you didn't?" For the first time since climbing into bed, she smiled, nodding towards obscured crotch.
"Must've been the way you told it," Joe replied sheepishly.
She placed her glasses on the beside and returned the pillow to its rightful place behind her. "Come on, honey. Admit it. You liked hearing about me fucking our son." She inched closer towards him, following his gaze to the ample cleavage visible through the top of her loose camisole. "You liked hearing about him pawing at his mom's boobs. Sucking at my tits" She squeezed her large breasts. "These tits. Didn't you?"
