Depardieu Days

Laura

I threw my head back and laughed as I watched my two grown children, Pierre and Emilie wrestle on the couch. It was always so much fun when the family got back together as we were now and my husband, Lucien, and I always enjoyed it so. As did the children, apparently. Though they were hardly children anymore. Pierre, 22, was done with University and on his way to a successful engineering career and Emilie, my Emilie, was expecting her own baby in less than a month. Their bond (as twins) had always been strong, and it was very apparent now as even in play, there was a connection between them that was almost tangible. Pierre rolled on to the floor.

“Oh, Em,” he gasped “We need to go easy on you and the baby, don’t we?” Emily giggled.

“You always treat me as if I am a child! I am fine, and not made out of glass.”

“He is right, though, Emilie. I will not have anything happening to my child. . . or my grandchild.” Lucien smiled. He was as excited about the baby as I was. Almost as if on cue, there were murmerings from the next room.

My own infant, Pascal, had woken up for his late-night feeding. Obligingly, I walked to the nursery to get him. Even with his scrunched up “feed me” face, he was darling. An unexpected darling, but one nonetheless, and once they’re born, well, what can you do. Planning isn’t everything, is it? I picked him up and carried him back into the sitting room. The nursery was certainly quieter, but it wasn’t often that both my other children were home.

“You don’t mind, do you?” I asked, as I unbuttoned my blouse. I mostly expected silence, but the three other adults were almost too quick in their affirmative responses. Laughing again, I led Pascal to my bare breast. What I hadn’t counted on in the presence of my entire family was the familiar stirring between my legs as Pascal’s lips touched my nipple. Deep in my heart, I knew it was wrong, but the kneading of my breast, the pulling of my nipple feels so good. Almost involuntarily, I leaned my head back and briefly closed my eyes. Luckily Pierre and Emilie had become engrossed in conversation and didn’t notice my (fearedly) obvious state of ecstacy but Lucien, fully aware of my reactions to Pascal’s mouth, had his eyes fixed on my heaving chest. I shot him a “the children are right here” look and pretended not to notice the thick bulge appearing in his trousers. Unfortunately, my self control is not what it used to be and my eyes were stuck just where they shouldn’t have been. Hungry Pascal’s sucking sped up and it was all I could do to keep from moaning out loud.

“Is he hurting you, mama?” Emilie’s voice seemed to be awfully far away. I turned to her, curious. “If he is, well, I can probably take him.” She looked down, blushed and continued rapidly. “I mean, I think I am ready to, I have been for almost a month now. . .”

“Go, on, Laura, let her take the child,” Lucien’s voice had a strange ring to it. . . on that I wasn’t familiar with. But I couldn’t think of a reason not to so I pulled Pascal off my breast and handed him to her.

I noticed mine weren’t the only eyes glued on Emilie as she unbuttoned her blouse and unclasped her bra. It was a bit awkward due to her very large stomach, but she eventually led Pascal to her swollen nipples. After a moment, she looked up.

“It isn’t working.” I smiled and placed my fingers on her breast, positioning her nipple against the roof of Pascal’s waiting mouth. She was so soft and smooth and. . . “It’s ok, mama, look” Emilie interrupted my train of thought. Just as she indicated, drops of white milk were appearing on the tip of her nipple. Pascal noticed, too, and begin to suck. Emilie’s eyes grew wide. The sight of my son taking milk from my daughter’s breast, and the sight of her obviously enjoying it was too much for me. I collapsed back onto the sofa next to Pierre. Trying to regain rational thought, I noticed two things: tears in Emilie’s half-open eyes and a large bump forming between Pierre’s legs.

“Ok. Gentlemen, if you could excuse us for a moment,” I looked pointedly at Lucien and he stood up. Pierre followed. As the men left the room, I turned towards Emilie. “What is the matter, darling?”

“Oh mama!” Emilie cried, “This is going to sound horrible but Pascal’s mouth feels so good on me. Jacques has been gone on business so long that I feel like. . .” her voice trailed off.

“What, love?” I asked, though I knew what was coming.

“Well it’s been almost four months and now I’m so desperate that nursing Pascal is making my panties wet!” She finished speaking with a sob. I was taken aback. My daughter was never this open with me. . . perhaps it was the impending motherhood or perhaps the wine that had flown freely earlier in the evening. In any case, I hardly knew what to do. In the meantime, Pascal had finished and Emilie stood to take him back to bed. I followed and in minutes, we were walking back to the sitting room.

When we returned, Lucien and Pierre were waiting; Lucien on the loveseat, Pierre on the sofa.

“Would a massage help you at all, Em?” Pierre asked, his dark blue eyes looking into hers. She nodded, tears filling her eyes, and sat down next to him. Lucien pulled me onto his lap and dragged a blanket over the top of us. Through his thin slacks I could feel that he was still hard.

“Not here, darling! The kids!” I whispered to Lucien.

“They’re not paying a bit of attention,” he said “Look. . .” True to his word, Pierre was completely focused on Emilie’s back and her eyes were closed. Slowly, Lucien brought his hand to the dark, warm spot between my legs. He only touched me lightly but my body responded in full force. Not able to contain myself, I turned to him and met his lips with a long, deep kiss. Lucien brought his hands up to the waistband of my pants and undid the zipper. Before I knew it, his fingers were inside me. I groaned. Glancing quickly over to the kids I was surprised to see that neither of them seemed to have heard me. Pierre was whispering softly to Emilie and she, apparently, could hear only him. Lucien adjusted my body so that my back was to him and, with one deft movement, unzipped his own pants and slid his now rock-hard cock deep into my body. His familiar skin felt good against my own and I rocked backwards, pushing him deeper inside of me.

Emilie

I closed my eyes as Pierre’s fingers explored the tender muscles of my shoulders. His hands felt so good I could concentrate on nothing else.

“How does that feel, darling?” Pierre whispered close to my ear. Involuntarily, I shivered. How long had it been since my husband was this close to me? Pushing the thoughts out of my head, I replied with a murmmur of contentment. I leaned back a bit against Pierre’s body but straightened immediately when I felt his manhood, thick and hard beneath his trousers. Before I could collect my thoughts, Pierre leaned forward into me again. “You’re beautiful, Emilie” Tears sprung to my eyes.

“Why isn’t Christophe here to say that? Why doesn’t he say that?” I looked down disdainfully at my pregnant body. Christophe, my husband, was turned off by my swollen stomach and breasts and used any excuse not to come near me nowadays.

“God, Emilie, I have no idea.” Pierre sounded truly shocked. “Look at yourself! You are amazing!” I adjusted myself so that we were facing each other. He reached up and gently ran his fingers across my face. “Your eyes, your cheeks, your lips. . .” my breathing deepened as his hand moved downwards. “Your shoulders. . . your. . .” Gently, Pierre touched one of my nipples through my thin blouse. I trembled. His other hand reached for my other breast and he supported their fullness in his palms. Unable to control myself, I moaned at his touch. “How long has it been, Emilie?” I felt a wet spot forming between my legs as the words left his lips. Bashful at this unexpected wave of feelings, I looked down. Pierre took my chin in his hand and tilted my face upward, meeting my lips in a full, deep kiss.

A moment later, I pulled away, surprised. Quickly I looked over at mum and dad but they seemed just as absorbed in what they were doing. In fact. . .

“Pierre,” I whispered, “Do you think he’s fucking her?” Pierre smiled.

“God, if he is, I envy them.” He turned back towards me. Without a word we stood up and he led me into the guest bedroom. Slamming the door behind us, we fell on to the bed. Frantically, Pierre tore at my blouse and skirt until I was lying completely naked on the bed in front of him. My huge breasts were heaving, my nipples tall and hard in the cold of the bedroom. My stomach, 8 months into my pregnancy, was swollen and tight and my pussy was fat and slick in anticipation. Pierre’s tongue found my skin, I gasped. . . it had been so long. He moved his mouth from my collarbone to my left nipple. I started to protest, telling him that after nursing Pascal, it wouldn’t take much for my milk to flow again. He didn’t respond, only clamped his lips down over the swollen bud and twirling his tongue over the sensitive tip. As promised, the milk did flow, and Pierre suckled eagerly. The sight of my handsome, grown brother taking milk from my breast was too much and I almost orgasmed right there. I could feel his thick cock pressing against my dark pubic hair. Kissing my lips gently, Pierre turned me over so I was on my hands and knees, my thick belly hanging down and my wet pussy exposed to the air. Putting both hands on my ass, my brother positioned the wet head of his cock at my enterance. With a swift thrust he was inside me, his 10inch prick filling my dark, wet, hole. I heard a gasp and quickly turned towards the now open door.

Lucien

My cock almost erupted as I took in the sight on the bed. Concerned about Emilie’s well being, I had opened the bedroom door where I though Pierre was consoling her. What I saw, however, was completely unexpected. My dark-haired son was pounding his thick cock deep into my very pregnant daughter. Their young bodies were covered in sweat, and Emilie was dripping milk on to the bed. She must have heard my gasp as she suddenly looked up and saw me there. The look on her face was horrified, but another deep thrust from Pierre caused her to forget all about my presence. It was painfully obvious that my daughter hadn’t been fucked in quite awhile, the way she was pushing back against his hips.

Always a good looking girl, Emilie had become even more beautiful during her pregnancy. And now, God, she looked fucking amazing. Her dark hair swung down over her flushed cheeks and shining eyes. An avid runner, her body was trim except for the grotesque swelling around her middle. And those breasts. . . unable to contain myself, I walked over to the bed. Pierre saw me, but was so engrossed in slamming his sister’s pussy that he didn’t say a thing when I undid my trousers and dropped them to the floor. My own cock stood at attention, still slick from Laura’s pussy juice and I took it in one hand, jacking myself off at the sight of my children. Pierre was obviously turned on by my presence and turned Emilie over so she could see her father, as well. Kneeling in front of her, Pierre continued his fucking and Emilie kept her eyes on my steely cock. Her breasts were positively dripping now and, not caring what the kids thought, I leaned down and took one in my mouth. That was all Emilie could take and she came hard around Pierre’s cock, the warm liquid from her tits flowing into my mouth. He screwed up his face and tried as hard as he could to hold on but I could tell it was a struggle. I took my mouth off Emilie and went around behind my son. Wetting one finger in my mouth, I slowly placed against his tight asshole. He gasped. I smiled. With no warning and with his mother’s cum as my lubricant, I knelt behind him and slid my cock into his ass. He groaned audibly as I thrust myself into him and within seconds cried out. Looking over Pierre’s shoulder, I saw his hot cum streaming out of Emilie’s swollen cunt. It was too much for me and I came, too, deep inside my young son. Pierre pulled out of Emilie and I pulled out of Pierre. Exhausted, we collapsed on the bed.

Pierre

Still panting from my recent orgasm, I collapsed against the bed. When my eyes finally opened, I saw my beautiful, pregnant sister lying next to me and my father lying next to her. Both of their bodies were covered in a fine sheen of sweat; they positively glistened. My wildest fantasies since puberty have been of my twin sister and I could hardly believe they had finally come true.

“Ahem” a cough came from the open doorway. There stood mother, her eyes wide at the sight of her naked family. Expecting a reprimand, I was surprised to hear her say “Why wasn’t I invited?” A mock pout formed on her smooth lips and I found my cock hardening again. She walked over to the bed and stood between Emilie’s partly open legs. “Do you feel better, darling?” she asked. Emilie, her heart still beating audibly, nodded. Glancing down at Emilie’s cunt, still dripping with my cock juice, mom licked her lips. “Which one of you two handsome men fucked my little girl?” When neither of us answered, she bent over and, to my great amazement, began to lap it up. Emilie’s eyes widened and it was clear that this was making her horny all over again. In fact, it was making me horny all over again, and by the looks of it, dad, too. “Now,” mom said, between licks “This doesn’t taste much like Lucien. . . but I’ve never tasted Pierre so I can’t really be sure one way or another. Unless. . .” she moved her head from between Emilie’s legs to between mine. Her soft, warm mouth only covered half of my hardening cock, but God, it felt good. I felt the drops of precum rising to the head of my dick and felt her lap them up eagerly. “So it was you, Pierre. How did it feel?” I groaned in response, arching my hips up to meet her mouth. Next to us, Emilie was on all fours with dad’s face buried in her pussy, her pregnant belly hanging over his head.

“Oh daddy, fuck me with your tongue, oh GOD!” she groaned. The temptation was too much, I scooted over and joined my father between her legs, our tongues entertwining as we probed her dripping hole. “Oh shit,” Emilie’s body suddenly tensed up. We stopped, afraid that our princess was hurt. Even mom took her mouth off of me and listened. “Excuse me for a minute. . . I have to use the restroom”. I caught dad’s eye and we grabbed her wrists “What are you doing? I’ve really got to pee!” she complained. But that was exactly what we wanted to hear. With increased vigor we attacked her swelling pussy with our tongues. Mom bent back over me and rapidly sucked me off, teasing my balls with her delicate fingers. Emilie began to moan and I could feel her tense up, trying to hold her urine back. I tightened my lips around her stiff clit and nibbled on the sensitive skin. Dad fucked her with his tongue and fingers. Suddenly, she shuddered violently and cum streamed out onto my chin. And then it came. A fast stream of hot piss covered our faces. We lapped at it like puppies and Emilie tried as hard as she could not to collapse. Waves of orgasm rippled over her and the urine came in hot spurts as her muscles tightened and relaxed. It was too much for me. Grabbing mom’s head, I shot my cum down her waiting throat.