Chapter 02: Regina's Story.
I was only an adolescent when Mom and Dad sat me down, and hesitatingly told me the secret they had kept all these years. I suppose there are some people who would call it a guilty secret, but after hearing the full story, I honestly couldn't think of a single reason for them to feel guilty about anything.
The truth is, Mom is Mom, and Dad is Dad, and I love them more than life, so it really didn't matter to me then, and it matters even less now, when they told me that not only is she my mother, she is also Dad's mother. The only thing that mattered was that they were totally in love with each other. The fact that I was a result of their incestuous coupling was my good fortune, made even better by the knowledge that I was planned and wanted.
After hearing of how my grandfather had got away with murdering my Mom's parents, and then subjected Mom and Dad to almost two decades of brutal abuse, it seemed natural to me that they had found comfort -- and peace - in each other's arms. Although my body was going through its natural changes -- I had recently finished my second period -- I had never had more than the normal curiosity, but the thought of my Dad doing 'it' with his own mother had a strange fascination for me. It didn't occur to me at the time, but I guess it started me thinking. That night, after they had broken the news, I lay in bed, absorbing what they had told me. A little while later I heard their bedroom door close, and giving them time to undress, I crept from my room. For the first of many times I stood with my ear pressed against their door, hoping to hear sounds of them making love.
As the years passed I had my share of boyfriends, but nothing really serious. If I liked a boy enough, I would let him fondle my breasts as we kissed, or if he was really nice he could feel my pussy while I jerked him off. I never allowed it to go further, because although it was nice having my clit stimulated, it never really made me want more. A couple of occasions in the back row of a movie theatre, if the boy I was with made me climax, I leaned across and took his cock in my mouth, each time pulling away before he could cum.
By the time my figure had filled out as much as it was likely to, I had finished high school and was waiting to hear if I had been accepted into university, when Mom and Dad bought me a cute little three year old, bright red Toyota, which I promptly called Cherry Bomb. Dad was a bundle of nerves the first time I took Cherry Bomb for my first solo drive, and he was a total wreck when I finally returned after what was intended as a ten minute test run, but which stretched out to more than two hours because I couldn't resist showing it off to my envious friends.
Now that I had a measure of independence, I suddenly found myself more popular than ever with my old school friends, primarily because I was the only one with transport. After a couple of weeks playing taxi driver, Kelly, one of my three closest friends, suggested a belated end of school camping trip. The idea was enthusiastically supported by Joanne and Freda, and when I commented that I knew nothing about camping, they looked at me almost pityingly.
"There's nothing to know," Joanne said. "Just throw up a tent and roll out a sleeping bag and that's it."
"Maybe," I replied dubiously, "but I don't have a tent or a sleeping bag."
"That's easily fixed. I'll just borrow Tony's stuff. Me and him used to go camping every summer, so we have our own tents and shit. You provide the wheels, I'll provide the gear, Kelly and Freda can pay for the eats, and we can all chip in for juice for the car."
I allowed myself a small grin at the mention of Tony's name. There was no way I would ever tell her, but Joanne's brother was one of the boys I had sucked off in the movies. She must have mistaken my grin for agreement, and before I knew it, it was decided that we would leave on the next weekend. It was only when I arrived home and told my parents, that Mom reminded me that Dad's birthday was in just over a week, and he would be disappointed if I missed it. Glancing at the clock, I realised it was too late to be ringing round, so I left it until morning to call the girls, and tell them if we went it would only be for a week. They didn't like it much, but since they were relying on me for transport, they agreed.
Having sorted that problem out, I turned my mind to what to give Dad, since I had completely forgotten his birthday in the excitement of the last couple of weeks. Nothing I could think of seemed either suitable or good enough for my Dad, and then I began to get a germ of an idea that must have been sitting unnoticed in my mind for I don't know how long. I talked it over with Mom, and she not only agreed, but suggested a refinement. She took a few photos, and after picking out the one I liked best, I made a card with a hand written note inside, and asked her to give them to Dad on his birthday.
When the weekend came around, I packed a few clothes into Cherry Bomb, and went to pick up the girls. We drove until late afternoon, before finding a fairly cheap and somewhat Spartan camp site with little more than a shower block and a barbecue area. After unloading the car, the girls suggested I go into the nearby town to pick up half a dozen bottles of wine, and by the time I returned they had set up a couple of small tents, and were cooking some steaks. We cracked open a bottle, and as we ate we discussed sleeping arrangements, although it seemed to me it had been settled in my absence. Since we were all good friends, I was quite happy to share a tent with Freda, a statuesque blonde of Scandinavian extraction. As the evening wore on, we finished first one bottle, and then a second, and were well into the third.
