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.
The temperature didn't drop much as we sat under the stars, and as would be expected, the conversation soon turned to boys. As the level in the third bottle fell, our talk became more bawdy, and quickly degenerated into a girly confession session. The seemingly demure Kelly provided the biggest shock, by admitting that she was a secret exhibitionist. She didn't like to wear panties, and although she had never allowed any to actually touch her, it turned her on to let boys look up her skirt and see her pussy. Things went downhill from there, with Freda stating openly that that at least half a dozen guys had fucked her, whilst Joanne said that although only one boy had ever put his cock in her, she had licked more than her share of pussies. Eventually, after convincing me to confess my own 'sins', we decided enough was enough, and we paired up and headed giggling for the tents.
A small solar powered lamp provided just enough light to see by, and as soon as the tent flap was closed, Freda unrolled a sleeping bag and started to undress. Although we had seen each other naked countless times in the showers after sport or gym, there were always others around, but now that we were alone, no more than a couple of feet apart, I felt a little awkward. I sat on my still rolled sleeping bag, trying hard not to look at her, but she seemed to sense my unease, because she stripped off her bra and panties and squatted in front of me with her forearms resting on her knees.
"It's OK to look at me you know," she said quietly. "I don't have anything you don't."
I raised my eyes shyly and studied her firm breasts, tipped with hard points only a little darker than the surrounding flesh. She parted her knees slightly, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Down there too if you want." I don't know if it was the effect of the wine, or the conversation we all had earlier, or even a combination of both, but I raised my arms to allow her to slip my light sweater over my head as I looked down to the shadowy area between her thighs. Her voice suddenly husky, she looked at my bra covered boobs and whispered. "I envy Joanne. I've never done anything with another girl, and she has."
I looked at her uncertainly, knowing she wanted to touch my breasts, but unsure if I wanted her to, and equally unsure if I wanted her not to. I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice as I replied. "Me neither." My mind was made up for me when she took my hand and pressed it to her boob. Her resilient flesh and hard nipple felt so warm and inviting that all hesitation vanished, and I wanted to feel her hands squeezing my tits the way I wanted to squeeze hers. As my fingers tightened, I reached behind me with my free hand and unclasped my bra.
The instant my boobs were freed her mouth was busy, sucking my nipples into stiff buds as she fumbled with the fastening of my tight mini shorts. I pulled in my stomach to give her fingers room to work, then knelt upright so she could pull my shorts and panties down together. There wasn't enough room in the small tent to stand, so I crawled across to Freda's sleeping bag, taking her hand and drawing her close. We crouched face to face, knees apart, exploring each other's breasts and nipples, then Freda brought the lamp closer, and for the first time I was able to see her pussy up close. Despite her being a good six inches taller than my own five foot six, her slit, with its light fringe of silky blonde hairs, somehow didn't seem big enough to have taken the half dozen cocks she claimed, and I knew I had to taste it, and her.
With a nervous giggle, I touched a fingertip to her clit and she flinched as if she had been stung. "Oh wow!" she breathed, laying back and spreading her legs wide. "That's so different from a guy touching me." Putting a hand on my knee, she urged me closer and touched my own wetness. How right she was. Although no less insistent, her exploring fingers were softer and gentler than any boy who had ever felt me, and even though it was a first time for each of us, she seemed to know exactly how, when and where to touch me.
