Blac & White & Red All Over

Author's note: This fictional tale includes interracial incest, mature and group sex, and a bit of violence (non-sexual). All depicted sex involves conscious live humans aged 18+. This sequel to a requested revision of AS SIMPLE AS BLACK AND WHITE? (With significant changes in relationships) is told from Isadora's POV. Enjoy!

*****

(Who the fuck are we? We are family!)

*****

It all started when Rory saved my ass. It all ended with... well, no, it has not ended yet. How will it end? WILL it end? I dunno.

Let me set this straight. I did not know Rory was my brother when I started fucking him. Really, I did not, no way! And Vanessa, our mother? NO! Not just no, but HELL NO! We did NOT know she was our mother when we started fucking her! How could we?

But once we started fucking our mother, we did not stop.

I was going to pose a question: "...we did not stop. Was that wrong?" But that would be asking for judgment. Who are you to judge? What gives you the moral authority to approve or condemn how people live? Do not give me any religious or psychobabble crap. Just judge your own heart.

Judging right or wrong... That can get tricky, depends on who appoints themselves to the task, yeah? I see it like this: 'Right' is helping people. 'Wrong' is hurting people. 'Morality' is about survival. If something helps people survive, it's moral. If it doesn't, it's immoral. Is that too simple? Well then, write your own fucking rules. Have fun.

But I'm getting away from the story. It all started when Rory saved my ass. Or when I rewarded Rory by giving him my ass. Or it started when Vanessa and I started loving, or when we all did. Or maybe it actually started when we found who we were. I'll get to that.

*****

"So girl, how're you doing with that white guy?" My best friend Lucinda drained her coffee and poured another cup. We sat at my kitchen table, remains of chocolate donuts scattered on paper plates. "That save-your-ass shit, yeah, that's wicked heavy."

"That's where it all started. Next step was, I brought Rory right here to my apartment, and I fucked him to death. Then he fucked me to death. Then we fucked each other to death a few more times, and a few more, and again. And we survived! Praise the Lord!" I waved my palms in the air. Lucinda grunted.

"Hmmph. Sounds dangerous. How does he compare to the brothers, y'know, anatomically speaking?" Lucinda patted her bleached hair. She is so vain!

"He's no midget and he knows how to use it! I tell ya Luci, he's great."

"You're making me jealous now! Oh well, you were always the pretty one. Go on now, tell me all about him, and you, and everything."

"Not all our fuck-to-deaths were that first night, of course not. We've got it stretched into a fucking full-blown relationship. First in my rooms here. Then in his house, it's a long hour away from Long Beach, way up in Fontana. His neighborhood's about like here, maybe a little whiter, but not by much. Yeah, Rory's stayed over with me sometimes, mostly weekends. Do we fuck a lot? Well, yes", I grinned big. "I take all of him I can!"

"But that's not all. Good thing I'm taking my classes online; I couldn't do all this if I was working and on campus too. I started helping him take care of his aunt Vanessa. She's a mostly Iroquois woman with sharp features and a tight, copper-dark body, yeah, lighter than mine but redder too. She was pretty mental when I first met her."

I told Luci how Rory set up one of Vanessa's rooms as a mini-gym so she is well exercised and healthy. Another room became an office where she wrote and sold imaginative pieces fueled by her mental states. Her expanded 1920's California Bungalow was guarded by fences and spiny hedges and was nice and comfortable inside. Rory had really knocked himself out, fixing the house.

"Now, taking care of her... at first, that meant helping with waking, bathing, dressing, and feeding her. But she reacted very well to me, especially when we began showering together. And then talking - she actually spoke! For the first time in years!"

"What, was she a mute or something?" Lucinda was so indelicate at times.

"No, like I said, she was mental, very withdrawn. My being there has really brought her out! Now she talks, and tells me tales, and she's so beautiful! And she has this attitude. Like, 'It's much too late to relax now so I'll just go straight to bed'. Pretty phat, hey?" Luci grunted at that one, too.

I told Lucinda about the caring and laughing, and how much better Vanessa was now. But I could not tell her everything. I could not tell her about our lovemaking, me and Vanessa.

Oh, don't get me wrong - I really loved Rory, fuck yes! And I didn't want Lucinda to think I'd gone queer on her. I certainly was not queer

for

her, not Luci. I didn't play dykey games with my old friends. But Vanessa... I dunno, there was just something about Vanessa, something... magnetic.

*****

It started in the shower. We had a routine: I woke Vanessa, got her out of bed, out of her pajamas, and into the shower. I stripped too - no need to soak my clothes. Before I started helping Rory, he did all this wearing swim trunks. Not me. I got naked. I lathered and scrubbed her lithe coppery body, and shampooed and massaged her scalp. After a few sessions, she opened up and did the same for me. I felt like I was almost her shadow.

I know that Rory watched us sometimes. Vanessa probably knew, too.

We were not serious there. No, it was always fun, touchy-feely, giggly fun. And more and more fun. We moved from sudsing and scrubs and scouring, to tickles and giggles, to light kisses... to deep kisses. And more.

I remember the first deep kiss. We washed each other's breasts, and torsos, and legs, and crotches. We usually exchanged light lip-pecks afterwards.

Not this time. We soaped and rinsed. Vanessa wrapped her arms around my neck. "You are so sweet, Isadora. You feel so good. You make me feel so good." She kissed my mouth. My lips parted. Our tongues danced. We were at a red line - would we cross it?

Not that time. We kissed and embraced, but that was all. Vanessa seemed to feel no need to push anything, and neither did I. We broke from our shared kiss, and smiled, and dried off and dressed, and emerged into the day.

We crossed that red line gradually.

My body knew what it wanted, but my mind was much less certain. We went slow.

Kissing, longer; embracing, tighter, with hands stroking backs, and sides, and hips, and butts. And thighs. Outer thighs, then inner thighs, then vulvas. Then fingers inside, probing and twirling - mutual masturbation. Then breast-worshipping, nipple sucking.

And then she took me to her bed, and laid me out on it, and kissed her way up my legs from my feet, to my knees, to my trimmed pubic hair, to my inner core. I felt her tongue tasting my taint and teasing my clean asshole, then lapping around and inside my lower lips, and then circling my clit. Oh fuck.

This was not the first time I had cum on girls' and women's tongues. Not that I was queer - but some of my friends were, and they insisted I try it. They were very, very good. But Vanessa was magical.

I am very glad Rory worked late that night and I had come to Vanessa's home on my own. My scream would rattle the dead in their crypts and sure would have brought Rory running. But Rory was not there, and I was. I screamed and screamed. Wow!

I calmed. Vanessa lay beside me, and held me, and kissed me. I tasted myself on her lips. I tasted good.

And I jumped the red line.

I kissed Vanessa's mouth, and neck, and breasts - oh, those wonderful, full breasts! I kissed her firm belly, and licked her navel, and I slid between her legs and nuzzled her alluring mound of Venus. And I tasted her.

Vanessa tasted... right, that's the only word I can think of. She felt and tasted right, like I was meant to be here, my tongue in and around her wet pussy, my lips nibbling her stiff little clit. I pressed and stroked her thighs. I eased my fingers into her hole, first one, then two and three, and then only two again, feeling for her rough patch while I kissed her nub.

I found the spot. Vanessa twisted her nipples, and gasped, and tensed, and flooded, and moaned, long, low and loud, like a mermaid's warning call echoing over the waves. My fingers and tongue stretched-out her moan for what seemed like hours.

Vanessa lay gasping, almost wheezing. She reached a hand into my frizzy hair and pulled my face up to hers. We hugged and kissed and cried.

"Oh baby! You're so good!" Vanessa sobbed against my face. She kissed my eyes and squeezed me tightly. I only held this amazing woman and felt her snug body burn against me.

She tasted me again, and I tasted her, and we tasted each other together, our first 69. More magic! I felt like we became one person, one soul, joined into an eternal golden braid of love and life.

*****

Rory found us the next night - just like we planned.

I did not hear him come into the house or stand in the bedroom door. I was busy loving Vanessa as she knelt over me, our tongues and fingers in each other's pussies, our bodies sweating, our juices flowing. We moved faster. My tongue was nearly lashing Vanessa's excited clit. She moaned, and lifted her face from my vulva, and YELLED! Oh, a sweet, happy cry, of exultation and joy! I continued licking. She continued crying.

She finally ran out of breath. I felt her body shift, and I knew something had changed. Rory is here, I thought, and she sees him. I felt her tongue return to my pussy. She licked me very obviously, playing to our audience. Then she rolled around and off me. We lay together on our backs, panting.

I raised my head and looked at our man.

"Oh fuck Rory, this is so great! Oh, I love being here! But I want YOU, Rory! I *need* you! Get your fucking clothes off and fuck me! Fuck me, NOW!!" I felt the greatest need of my life, the greatest desire ever.

Vanessa nakedness and smile were glorious. She murmured, "Yes, Rory, Isadora loves you and needs you! She IS your woman! Come here! Love her!"

Rory stripped his clothes off, and ducked into the bathroom, and came back quickly, clean (enough) and roaring ready.

I opened myself to him. He kissed my calves, my knees, my thighs, my pussy. He ate me until I reached down to grab his hair and forced his head up. "Enough of that, boy," I demanded. "Get up here! Get that thing in me!"

He climbed between my thighs and slid his solid steaming cock into me. We both sighed with the deep, smooth penetration. Oh fuck! I pushed my loins to meet his thrusts. He bent his head to my chest, sucking one nipple while Vanessa took the other. He pushed up, and pounded me harder, pulling my legs over his shoulders for deeper penetration, oh fuck! Oh fuck, yeah! He pinched the pebbled knots of my nipples. Zap! And Aunt Vanessa pinched his nips, and he exploded inside me, WHAM!

I felt his heat and flesh and sperm fill me to overflowing and beyond, far beyond the limits of mere flesh. I felt an infinite, eternal jolt, like we were atomically fused together. His mouth sucked in my tongue and breath and sobs. My pussy grabbed and squeezed him, emptied him, absorbed him. MINE! Deep inside me. MINE! Almost endless...

He fell onto me. I wrapped my legs and arms around him and clutched him as tight as I could. He eventually slipped out from inside, and rolled off me.

Vanessa leaned over us, kissed Rory softly, and kissed me hard. We held each other like lost souls. Our faces nuzzled together, washed with tears that we kissed and licked away till no tears remained. We muttered of love and hope, and fell asleep like dazed kittens, spooned sweatily together - and then shifting, and stroking, and kissing, and dozing.

I half-woke when I felt the bed move, and other motion. Vanessa was blowing Rory - her own nephew! And then she mounted him, and aimed his cock inside her, and she rode him, rocking and rolling and sighing, ah, ah ahhhh...

I watched the lovely movement and I knew I had to be there too. I straddled his head with my knees and lowered my pussy to his hungry mouth. His tongue probed into me and then circled my clit, oh fuck! I leaned forward to suck on Vanessa's spicy dark nipples. She moved faster, and then stopped, and came, slowly, oh so slowly, with a low guttural moan.

Vanessa pushed me upright and kissed and fingered my boobs while she sped up again on Rory's cock. His tongue blurred around my clit. I came, very wet, and screamed, and nearly passed out. I felt Rory's body stiffen under us as he shot load after vivid load into his aunt's cunt.

We fell apart and clung together and giggled and cried and eventually slept.

*****

We were drawing together. Rory put his Fontana house up for rent and moved into Vanessa's home. I would move in too when my apartment lease ran out in a month. Rory and I each had rooms in the house, but they were not exclusive. It was like we were married as a floating threesome, with some or all of us spending time in whatever bed was handy when we wanted. We felt like family.

Like I said, it all started when Rory saved my ass. Or, it started when Vanessa and I began loving. Or, it started when we three made love that first time. Or, it started when Vanessa told us who we were.

We soon found out.

Vanessa and I (clothed, this time!) were scrunched together on the couch scanning a pile of old photo albums. She named the rogues' gallery of faces in the snapshots and portraits. I was enchanted by this window into their family history. At first, anyway.

(Are you interested in our clothes? Vanessa wrapped her long form in a lemon-paisley caftan; her elegant coppery legs and arms emerged like magic. I wore my favorite denim miniskirt and an apricot sleeveless blouse nicely showing my taut dark muscles. Rory wore his work uniform of navy trousers and wheat button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. No tie; he hated ties. His coat hung on the back of a kitchen chair. All shoes and sandals had been kicked aside. Now you know.)

As pages and names flew by, I got a really weird feeling in my gut. It showed in my expression. Rory walked to the couch and stood behind us. I pointed at various photos. "I think I know some of these people."

Vanessa sighed. "Yes, you do. It's time to tell you why."

She laid out her story: Growing up on the Mohawk reservation on the Quebec-New York border, and her wild, free-fucking days. Impregnated young, and running away, abandoning her child by a white man. Life on the street in St Louis; being rescued by a big Kiowa man, who gave her schooling and two kids before he died and she ran away again, leaving the children with his sister Carrie. Landing in Mobile doing secretarial work and living with a black stevedore who was hauled away on a fugitive warrant after fathering her daughter, then taken by his mother. Of ending in Long Beach a quarter century before, and being rescued by Carrie, and eventually by Rory - who she deceived. [See the first chapter in this series for details.]

"That's the outline of my life, everything but the names," Vanessa said. "My daughter and son by O-J, the Kiowa man, are Sandra and Jason. That white man who knocked me up when I was just a kid was a Dutchman named Willem VanOwen. Rory's father. The black man was Bradley Davis. Isadora's father. You kids - you are both my children."

Rory's mouth was a pale 'O'. Mine was darker and just as open. Holy shit! We've been fucking our mother! I've been fucking my brother! Holy shit!

*****

So, this is when it really started - when we all knew who we were.

What started? Our lives.

I had a pile of shit running through my head. Rory did, too. Morality shit. Social shit. Where-do-we-go-from-here-? shit, the practical kind. All sorts of shit to deal with. Shit Vanessa had already dealt with.

Watch out - I will philosophize here. You have been warned.

Things are funny. Some things, problem- or disagreement-type things, we can talk about. If the problem or dispute is too great, we may fight. Shit, even talking can be fighting, just like politics is war by other means, or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe the talking, or the fighting, will fix the problem, resolve the argument. Or maybe not. But at least there is a prospect of a fix, of resolution.

Morality shit and social shit are not like that. We can argue differences, but can probably never resolve them, except by one side stomping the other. Holy wars of extermination. Total subjugation, conversion by the sword, that tired old crap. Argue with moral and social rules all you want, but submit to them or be stomped. That is how human flocks work.

But there are other ways through the rules morass. Pick a morality, some social structure, and fly right into it, or out of it. Do not argue, debate, discuss. Do not fight. Just do it. Go on instinct, on what feels right, not on what you were taught is right. Cast your fate to the wind. Go for broke.

Morality shit cooked in my head; in Rory's head, too, I could tell. But we did not discuss it. We did not sit down and debate rightness and wrongness, the validity of social norms, let alone genetic implications or whatever.

No. Instead, it was like a spark, a flash. Illumination!

I knew, and I could tell Rory knew, the basis for our draw to each other, our attraction - biology, sure. We shared body chemistries: pheromones and genes, that kind of stuff. Close kin who have been long separated are drawn together, like magnetism. That was us. We felt right together.

We felt right - so we made it right.

Once we started fucking our mother, we did not stop.

*****

Yes, we

did

talk. Rory took the lead, pacing around the living room while Vanessa and I snuggled on the couch.

"We need... I don't know exactly. Protective cover? A good story? We're all free, independent adults. I'm Rory; and you're Dora; and you're Vanessa, not Mom, not Auntie. Well, I might still call you Nessie if you piss me off." He grinned, then got serious again. "In the house or outside, that's who we are; it's ALL we are; but we're more, of course. I love you both terribly; I can't help it. We're glued together. We're a team. Pretty obvious, right?"

"Yo, Mister Obvious," I teased, "tell us what we don't know."

"Sorry, it's the engineer in me. That's the way I think. Lay out all the preliminaries first; list the resources and constraints; start with the obvious and head out from there. Okay, so here we are. Are we enough? I think we should look for Sandra and Jason. Dora, we have a brother and sister! We've never seen them! I..."

"You should calm down," Vanessa said. "Sandy and Jase aren't lost. O-J's sister Carrie raised them. She told them about me. She's dead now, but I know how to reach them. But they don't want to see me, and I can't blame them, because I abandoned them." Vanessa spoke very quietly. "I abandoned you too, Rory, but Carrie brought us back together. You were taken from me, Isadora, but I didn't really fight for you. That you grew up well, that's great; that you and Rory found each other, that's a miracle."

I squeezed Vanessa. I was nearly crying. "We're here. We love each other. No, we NEED each other! And we have each other. We just need to make this work. We can, I KNOW we can! We WILL!"

Vanessa asked, "And what do you think that will take?"

"I got no experience here, and honestly, I don't think you do, either," I said softly. "But I'm taking classes online. Some are about counseling.

THE

big issue for most, oh, what to call them... family groups, yeah, that's right... most family groups have trouble with money, with who makes it and who spends it, and disagreements about that. So our first thing is, we've got to be clear about money."