Warning: this story contains father-son incest content.
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Prologue:
An hour or so ago we were in a posh restaurant celebrating our anniversary. Now, I am on our bed wearing nothing but my pink lace garter belt holding up my red toned nylons, my red pumps with the five inch stiletto heels, my gold looped earrings, and my anniversary gift, a gold necklace with an emerald tear drop that now rests in the soft valley between my 35 cup breasts.
As for the rest of this evening's attire, the red silk dress, my pink lace thong panties, and matching pink push up bra are all lying scattered around the room where ever it was I was when I had hastily stripped out of them. As for my lover, his black suit, white shirt, red silk tie, and black thong underwear are equally scattered about the room where he with equal haste and in stages stripped out of as we pawed each other in our lust.
Right now, I am once again on my hands and knees on the bed, my long blonde hair cascading down my shoulder blades like a rippling wave of warm honey, with my 37 inch hips and my ripe, shapely ass presented to him as an invitation to enter yet again.
I can even feel oozing out of my asshole his previous cum load as he sinks his wet hard cock, coated with my saliva, deep into my asshole, to fuck my once again doggy style. My breasts bounce with each of his thrust into me.
One of my delicate hands plays with my engorged hard bright pink nipple, my red painted nails squeezing that bright bud and sending shocks of pleasure into my sex. Between my legs, my own little cock is again hard even after shooting out my previous cum load onto the bed. I tease, fondle and stroke it's full slender two and a half inches with my other hand as he rhythmically fucks me. I murmur, "I love you Daddy" with each thrust into my ass. He responds with panting lust filled breathe, "I love you too, Geri, my precious son."
Chapter One:
Geri:
Hello, my name is Gerry, or as I preferred it Geri, with a little heart for the dot over the eye.
I have deep green eyes and honey blonde hair. I'm now eighteen years old, just five feet tall, I'm a bit small in the bust and a bit broader in the hips, I proud of my hour glass figure so I'll tell you that my measurements are 35-23-37. I'm was short and soft, pudgy is how my mom used to describe me growing up. I never lost that baby fat. Now, I have unusual parents and thus an unusual home life.
You see my Mom was twenty-nine when she met my daddy, Jack. My Daddy was one of those child prodigies computer geeks and was shy and socially inept. At fifteen, he was already finishing college tacking graduate level course. He managed to meet mom and her girlfriend, Martha, at the coffee shop where he hung out to study. Ginny's biological clock was ticking and she wanted to have a child, so when he got a high paying job right out of school and married mom, he was barely just sixteen at the time. Then, she, and her girlfriend and Daddy moved into together.
I realize now that my mom, Ginny was Bi-sexual and her lesbian lover, Martha, was like a second mom to me. They had me shortly thereafter. I'm an only child and the way they lived in separate bed rooms, even I could figure out growing up, that there wasn't going to be any brother's or sisters, since Ginny and Martha slept together and Daddy had his own room. I also realize now that she probably only had man-woman sex to have me, and then I suspected that ended.
I know that on occasions, the three of them would all spend time together and that's when Daddy got some, but I don't think it was intercourse. I think since he was so much younger than the two of them that they could control him and keep him happy doing things that wouldn't get mom pregnant again.
The other thing that was unusual about my home life, besides Martha's radical feminism, was that they were New Ager's and belonged to an Ashram here in the states, obviously vegetarians and lastly they were nudists.
So all growing up Ginny and Martha home schooled me so I was with them all my waking hours while Daddy was busy at work and he worked late hours most of the time, including weekends.
Now, when we did go out shopping and stuff that's when I got to wear all that pretty clothes. They let me choose how to dress and I preferred the girly clothes to the uncomfortable boy clothes. When Daddy was around on the weekends when he got to see me, we never got to go out so he never saw me dressed up. I was usually asleep when he came home from work and on the weekends, we were all naked, or nearly so. So, during the day I always wore girly soft panties, tops, and girly socks even on those occasions when I had to wear pants.
When Ginny and Martha had their periods, they word pretty panties, and of course, when they got dressed to go out they wore all their pretty things. Knowing what I know now, during that time of the month, they always walked around in lingerie, thongs, stockings, heels, and such. It was always warm in the house and wear we lived all year round so it seemed perfectly sensible to be naked or nearly so, all the time at home.
When I was eighteen, I even got to play dress up with Mom and Martha, getting to wear pretty things like what they wore, and even high heels shoes as well. Mom and I were both short and so we said we needed the height of the five inch heels to reach the top shelves.
I was always told, especially by her, that we looked alike. Same hair color and type, long curly honey blonde, I had her pouting mouth and long lashes as well. I have her delicate hands and feet as well.
As I said I was home schooled up until I was old enough for High School. I hated it! I would come home crying every day that year. First off, I had to dress in those ugly baggy boy clothes. I even had to wear ugly and uncomfortable boys white underpants, yuck! No more pretty soft panties or pretty socks, I was forced to dress like all the other boys at school, so I wore just boring bland utilitarian stuff. Worse of all it was because the kids in high school boys made my life miserable. They teased me and called me a fag.
Now, I was very late going through puberty, I don't think it would have started till I was maybe sixteen. Anyway, it was when I was eighteen that I started to decide I didn't really want to be a boy. I liked girly clothes, all my toys growing up were dolls, I like to paint my nails and dress up, I wasn't aggressive or enjoyed sports, except dancing and swimming. On top of all that I might have envied girls because they got to where pretty things all the time, but I found boys to be cute and sexy.
So, I just said I didn't care to be a boy and wanted to be more like Mom and Martha. Besides, my body was more like a girl's anyway. I was soft, and curvy, I had long eye lashes, pouty big lips, small delicate hands and feet, and teeny tiny thing down there. My penis was just barely an inch long and my balls were maybe the size of dimes, if that. I had no body hair. I had a soprano singing voice. I preferred my hair long, it was shoulder length at this time, and I didn't want it cut so I just kept it braided in a ponytail.
I pestered and insistent that I hated High School and I wanted to be treated like a girl. Finally, when I turned eighteen Mom and Martha said I was old enough to make this life choice and so I did. I began estrogen hormone therapy on my eighteenth birthday. So really, puberty and the treatments started up almost at the same time.
Now, that was the year that Mom and Martha became even more involved in the Ashram and talked about one day going to India.
It was when I was eighteen, that's when I realized that Daddy was no longer invited over to Mom and Martha's room for a sleep over. Though they did give Daddy a present, a toy chest to amuse himself with as compensation they said.
As the changes started happening to me and everyone was getting older, the full nudity started to cease. We all started wearing panties and tee shirts, or tank tops or something like that. Daddy, was told to start wearing a thong to cover up his penis, since Mom and Martha said they didn't want to see that hanging around all the time anymore.
