Degrumpification Ch 02

Degrumpification Ch 2

The parents take the twins to their colleges

Warnings:

There is Mother-Son incest, Father-Daughter incest, group sex, gangbangs, and light bondage in this story.

Introduction:

Molly Hanover was totally degrumped. She had gone to Spa X outside Marrakesh, Morocco, which is her special spa to get degrumped, as her husband Ethan calls it. At Spa X they give those magical X massages. First, they give you the best massage imaginable, while you are naked on the table. When you are totally relaxed and your muscles are all mush, you are strapped down, hands and feet, spread eagle on the massage table, usually on your back, but by special request it can be on your stomach. You are given a serious blindfold, too. Oh yes: You're naked.

A man comes in. He's either local talent, or one of the male guests of the Spa. It's your choice. Then with him anonymous to you, and you anonymous to him (thanks to the blindfold), he fucks you silly, with a climax guaranteed. If you don't have a climax, you get another man, then another, until finally you climax.

Molly had an X massage every day. She always opted for the hotel guests to be the men who fucked her. They would then place a coded bracelet on her ankle, special to the man who enjoyed her charms. For the guests, as opposed to the local talent, it would be stripes of two or three colors. The men would wear the special Spa X signature polo's in their own color pattern. That way she could identify the man or men who fucked her, later in the bar, or perhaps by chance in the hotel, or even at the accompanying beach. In return, the men could identify her, by her ankle bracelet.

This past, most recent visit to the Spa, she foolishly brought with her the twins, Samuel and Samantha. To her great surprise, it worked out fine. She saw the numerous anklets on the right foot of Samantha, and she smiled to herself. Her daughter was becoming the slut that she once was, when she was her daughter's age. Some might say she still was a slut, and a married one at that, but she viewed her promiscuity at Spa X as therapy. It sure worked better than those long, pointless, talks she had had with her therapist, Dr. Eberlein, at a cost of hundreds of dollars an hour.

Her son Sam seemed to enjoy his time at Spa X, too, even if he had not really needed to be degrumped. She could not help wondering if he had taken advantage of the chance to fuck lots of women anonymously, but she had never seen him in a Spa X signature polo, and lord knows, she had looked. Still, he seemed happy simply that his twin Samantha and also his mother Molly looked to be deliriously happy. What a kid!

One of her anonymous lovers at Spa X placed a red and white anklet on her, but she never found any man with a red and white striped polo at the Spa. He ended up being her mystery man. Her daughter Samantha also had a red and white striped anklet, so she had enjoyed the same man. She so wondered who he might have been, but she supposed it would forever remain a mystery It's good to have a little mystery in one's life, from time to time.

Ethan and Molly alternated with the laundry, and it was her turn. With the kids home for winter vacation, there was more than usual. The kids shared their own hamper, and she had already gathered hers and Ethan's laundry, separating out the colors and also the delicates. She now had to tackle the kids' hamper. She dug into it, throwing the clothes into the laundry basket, taking out Samantha's sexy French lingerie, preferring to leave that for hand washing.

She saw it. The red and white striped special Spa X polo she had searched for in Marrakesh. Her only anklet she had not matched up to one of the guests was her red and white striped anklet. Now the mysterious polo was in the kids' hamper? As the significance of this find slowly dawned on Molly, her mind raced through what it meant at the speed of light. She felt weak, as if her heart were racing. She felt lightheaded, and she collapsed to the floor, the striped polo falling over her face as she fell.

Samantha:

I was home at the time (I'm Samantha), doing the lunch dishes, when I heard the thud of my mother falling upstairs. I ran up the stairs, and found, to my dismay, my mother lying prone on the floor, with Sam's striped, special Spa X polo covering her face. I instantly knew what had happened, but kept enough of a presence of mind to call 911.

I rode with Mom in the ambulance. Mom had regained consciousness but was still in a confused state. I hoped that she had not had a heart attack, or a stroke, or something like that! In the meantime, I called Dad, and

inter alia

I was launching a broadside of angry texts to my twin brother Sam. How could he have been so moronically stupid to have put the tell-tale striped polo in the hamper? Now Mom knew that her one remaining mystery fuck at the Spa X resort in Morocco was with her own, 19-year-old son! It also revealed that I, too, had enjoyed sex with my brother! This was beyond horrible.

Mom was dropped off at the ER and immediately taken to a private room, and Dad showed up shortly thereafter. I was excluded from the room, as was Sam, when he eventually rolled up to the hospital. Sam and I had nothing to do, so we just sat in the hospital cafeteria, nursing cups of horrible coffee, and worried. I told Sam of course how Mom had found his striped polo and why, oh why, did he put it in the hamper? I decided he was either a moron, or just had a moment when he was on auto pilot and not thinking.

"You do realize Mom now knows that we had incest, and that you and she did, too?" I said, steam coming out of my ears, I'm sure. "The shock may have given her a heart attack, or a stroke! How could you do that to Mom?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Let's hope it's not so serious," Sam replied. He was always the optimist, while I worried my little heart out. "Perhaps, though, she doesn't know that you know that you and I had incest, Samantha, right? Maybe we can get away with just me being the evil one, here. You can emerge smelling like roses. What do you think?" Sam offered.

"You're willing to take the complete fall? If you do, you'd best watch out, Bro, because I'll reward you, big time!" I said. "By the way, Dad is driving me to USC next week," I added as a kind of non-sequitur, but that's how my brain works. I had incest with my brother, and now I'd be alone on a car trip with our Dad?

"Mom is driving me to back Reed College," Sam said. I knew what gutter Sam's thinking was in. I guess we shared the gutter, just then.

"All the way to Portland? That's a ten-hour car trip! You'll have to help with the driving," I said. "Unless you stop.... Oh!....Do you think you and Mom, on the way up, now that it's out in the open...?" I asked

"I surely do hope so," Sam said.

"Sam, you're disgusting. I'm not enough for you; the sluts at Reed College are not enough for you either, and you want Mom, too? If I ever have a girl child, I'm keeping her away from you!" I said. Sam just smiled.

"What about you and Dad? It's what, eight hours to LA, without traffic?" Sam retorted.

"Dad said we'll take the coast road. He wants to show me Carmel and Monterrey," I said. "That will slow us down a lot. But you know as well as I do that we can't argue with Dad."

"Didn't you see them with your boyfriend Bruce, already?" Sam asked.

"Former boyfriend. Former. Remember, shithead? Bruce is somewhere fucking Marybeth's brains out as we speak. They don't get much

former

than Bruce. Got it?" I said. Sam had killed my mood.

"Well, it might be nice to overwrite those memories, and who better to do it with than Dad?" Sam said.

"Do it with?" I said. "What are you implying?"

Sam held his hands up, in an innocence gesture. "I was talking about the pretty vistas and all. Not the sex you probably had with Bruce at those spots," Sam said. "Your sensitivity is on a hair trigger. Why, are you considering seducing Dad?"

"Jesus H." I said. I was really exasperated, now. "Sam, I'm not into incest. The time with you in Morocco was an accident, and I was unaware it was you until it was over. You know that!"

If Sam had been smart, he would have changed the subject, letting me win our little argument, but no, he wasn't. He began well, but then...

"You're right of course. The first time was a complete accident, on both of our parts. I didn't know it was you, and you didn't have the slightest clue it was me," Sam said.

"I even thought you were French, or maybe German," I replied.

"Right. But then we repeated our little sin every day that was left of our time at the Spa, sometimes twice a day, and we've been repeating it here at home, too; not that I mind! I love you, Samantha, and sex with you is over the top great!" Sam said.

"Keep your voice down," I said. "We're in the bleeping cafeteria, for Pete's sake. People can hear us."

Sam smiled smugly.

"It's not enough, though, is it? Now you're planning to get it on with Mom again. Where are you going to spend your night of sin? Eureka?" I asked.

"I'm lobbying for Crescent City, myself," Sam said. "They say you can walk to the lighthouse at low tide."

"You're so strange," I said. "You're such a guy."

"That I am," Sam said, as he leaned forward and looked down my blouse, pulling it away from my body to enhance his view. I could see his disappointment that I was wearing a bra that revealed almost nothing. At that moment, of course, Dad entered the cafeteria, looking for us. Just in time, we adjusted ourselves to look totally correct.

"Mom is okay. She had some kind of shock. She can't tell me what it was, but then she fainted. The doctor said it was probably due to something called a Vasovagal Syncope, which basically means she fainted, but in doctor speak. However, they need to make sure it wasn't her heart, so she has to wear a monitor for 24 hours, to rule out heart arrhythmias," Dad said. "She'll be here for another few hours for observation. Want to leave the hospital and go grab some pizza?"

I had a salad and watched Dad and Sam devour two large pizzas. Dad was looking at me strangely. I wondered what Mom might have told him? I worry he might know about me and Sam? Sam, on the other hand, was happily devouring his pizza, seemingly without a care in the world. Life is so unfair.

The trip to Reed College, as Sam tells it:

We left home (the San Mateo area, a part of the San Francisco Bay Area) fairly early, with Mom driving. I actually hate the way Mom drives, so I was lobbying to drive, while Mom sat in the passenger seat. Once we cleared all of the Bay Area rush hour traffic, Mom pulled over to let me drive. "If you get tired, Sam, let me know. I don't want you cracking up the car."

"I worship your Porsche, Mom. I'd never crack it up!" I said, as I entered the driver's seat. It was such a rush to drive her Porsche. It was a Porsche 911 model, Turbo. I was always amused that they use the number 911 for a model name. They had begun with 901 as the model name, but Peugeot claimed that the 0 in the middle belonged to Peugeot, so they just changed the 0 to a 1. I had always wished for a more prosaic reason for the name 911, perhaps related to calling 911 in an emergency. Oh, well.

We drove along in silence for a while and finally, Mom spoke.

"You're speeding, Sam," she said.

"I'm only going 75. It's hard to drive slower," I said.

"Yes, I know. That's a problem with this car. Well, you can explain it to the cops when they ticket you," Mom said.

I slowed down. I think Mom decided if she talked to me, I'd be less likely to speed. "So, tell me about college. What are your favorite classes, so far?"

"Oh, I had this great class on the classic Greek plays, and I love linear algebra, and my class on the philosophy of modern art. Those three are my faves," I said.

Mom quizzed me about the Greek plays and the philosophy class, leaving the subject of linear algebra untouched. I had long ago learned that talking about math killed a conversation. Nevertheless, I was thinking about a Math major. Maybe Statistics, or Data Science? We fell into silence again. I began to speed a little, and Mom started talking again.

"Did you enjoy your time at Spa X? I know your sister Samantha did," Mom began. Here it comes, I thought to myself. With Samantha it was hard to hide: my sister had acquired eleven anklets there. I began to think of her not as my sister, but as my slut sister. Of course, I had fucked five anonymous women, plus -- as it turned out -- my Mom and my sister, and my sister numerous times, at that. But I'm not a slut, of course. It just doesn't work like that, luckily!

"Yeah, it was great. The food was out of this world, the massages were super good, and I also liked the other guests from all over Europe," I said.

"You know about the Spa X special X massages, for women, right?"

"Yes, Samantha and I discussed them," I said.

"I'll bet you two did," Molly replied. It was now obvious she knew, just from her tone of voice.

I remained silent.

Finally, Molly said, "Sam, I found your special Spa X polo. I know you were the mystery man who, ..., I man with who..., I mean, you know, when I was strapped to the table and you, uh,..."

"I didn't know it was you, Mom. You were face down, and all I saw was your perfect, luscious, inviting, naked body. It was every guy's dream to have a woman like you," I said. I saw Mom was blushing.

"There was a moment when suddenly..."

"I know," I said. "I noticed your tattoo and suddenly realized it had to be you underneath me, and I got so turned on it was almost painful."

"That's when suddenly your thing got harder, and bigger, and you began to use more force?" Molly asked.

"Yeah, I guess so. I had never experienced anything like it before; it was magical. It was fantastic," I said.

"It was for me, too," Molly said, and she blushed again. "Sam, are you ashamed of what we did?"

"Me? No. Nothing that wonderful can be shameful. I'd even love to do it again," I said, knowing I was taking a risk. I was putting myself out there, as I drove north on Interstate 5 at 70 mph.

There was a long pause, and then Mom spoke again.

"You realize that Samantha probably knows both what you and I did, and more terrifyingly what you and she did, Sam," Mom said.

"Yes, I know," I said.

"She's only 19-years-old, and a rather sensitive girl. I was surprised she was doing the Special X massages. I'm worried abo0ut her, now that she knows," Mom said. "She told me before Marrakesh there had only been one guy, namely her boyfriend Bruce, who dumped her for another girl," Mom said. "I worry about her, once the gravity of having committed incest sinks in. She's quite young, you know."

"Mom, we're twins. We're the same age," I said.

"Oh yeah. Quite right. Well, you're both quite young to be having incest," Mom said.

"It was an accident, of course, and what exactly is the right age to have incest?" I asked.

"Never. Never is a good age, but in any event 19 seems rather young to me," Mom replied.

"Samantha is okay with it. Don't worry so much Mom," I said.

"The two of you have been fucking like rabbits since we got home, haven't you?" Mom asked.

Damn my Mom, she always knows everything, and I have never figured out how she does that. Well, no point in lying; she clearly knows. I'll try not answering. No answer is an admission, and that should be good enough for Mom, I figured. Mom pushed, though, so I said,

"I don't know, Mom. How exactly do rabbits fuck?" I said, and that shut her up, at least for a while.

Mom broke the silence and almost caused an accident, when she said, "I told Dad, you know, that the two of you were having incest, and fucking like rabbits."

"You did?!?" I asked. "Why???"

"Dad and I have no secrets from each other. You and Samantha are our babies. I need his help to deal with the two of you. It's natural for parents to share," Mom said.

"Did you tell him too you and I had incest?" I asked. I was now doing 80 mph on Interstate 5, and edging upward towards 90. The Porsche seemed happy about my speed.

"No, of course not," Mom said. "That was only the one time, and it was a mistake, and there's no need to upset him about that. It will never happen again, of course."

"Never?" I said, as I slowed the Porsche down to 70. The car had a mind of its own, and it wanted to go 80 or 90 mph. I felt I was restraining it at 70 mph. What a car!

Mom didn't answer. Finally, I broke the silence.

"How did Dad handle the news of Samantha and me and our incest?" I asked, more than a little curious. I had slowed to 65, as I waited for Mom to answer.

"Surprisingly well, as it turned out. He thought it was within the bounds of natural, that twins should eventually have sex. He was concerned about possible babies, but as you know Samantha is on the pill, so when I told him that, he relaxed. After all, he said, Samantha is both gorgeous and sexy. It's unnatural for Sam not to want to lay her. Those were his exact words," Mom said.

"Really? He said that?" I asked. Dad used a double negative? Seriously?

"Yes, and he said much more, but I'll let him tell you those details himself, if he wants to do so. It's not things you need to know," Mom said.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to know them!" I said.

"Nevertheless, it's Dad's decision," Mom said, using that voice of hers that brooked no argument.

"It's getting late. Shall we stop for supper? I made us a hotel reservation at Crescent City, at the Lighthouse Inn. It gets top marks on one of the travel sites," I said.

"You did what?" Mom asked. She was incredulous, clearly.

"It's too far to go all in one day to Portland. I've never seen Crescent City and it's supposed to be pretty," I said.

"You're taking me, your Mom, to a seedy motel? I don't think so!" Mom said. Mom's preferred hotels were some expensive, high-end European chain hotels. I'm not sure she had ever before stayed at a motel! Perhaps I should explain: We're rich. Dad is a Silicon Valley venture capitalist.

"I reserved a room with two beds, Mom. Aren't you getting tired? If not yet, you will be by the time we get to Crescent City, you know. You've always said staying safe is a priority. Besides, this way we'll arrive in Portland relatively fresh, and rested," I said.

Mom knew my hidden agenda. And we'll arrive well fucked, too, I'm sure she thought. I knew I thought that!

"Sam, we're not doing again what happened in Marrakesh at Spa X. If you want to sin, you can fuck your twin sister, not your Mom," she said.

"Yes, Mom. Sleeping in the same room is not synonymous with fucking," I said.

"It might be, with you. I heard Samantha's moans every single night as you fucked her senseless. Your own sister! Have you no shame?" Mom said.

"Mom, I didn't fuck Samantha," and I held up my hand as Mom began to scream at me. She had that fierce inhalation of breath she does before a scream. "We made love. Samantha wanted it as much as I did. Maybe more. We fucked each other, if you have to use the word fuck."

Mom just glared at me. "We'll get two rooms," she said.

"Okay, whatever you want," I replied, knowing I had snagged the last room to be had in all of Crescent City. It was a busy time of year, as people returned their kids to colleges all over the West Coast.

We then fell into silence, as we drove on to Crescent City, veering off to Highway 101, to go to the top of California, on the coast, just before reaching Oregon. At one point we stopped for dinner. As Mom got out of the Porsche, I checked her out. I've checked her out many times, too many to count, but never before with the hope of laying her in the near future, even if she seemed to be adamantly opposed to the idea. Mom gave birth to us twins at a young age, so even though Samantha and I were nineteen, Mom was only 37, and she was a

bona fide

MILF.