Dear Reader, what is incest? Webster defines an incestuous relationship as one that involves sexual intimacy between close relatives, typically those related by blood or lineage.
Our family's definition of incest is broader. If you were born or married into our family, we believe it is permissible for you to have sex with any willing family member. Intercourse with your mother, my mother, our fathers, aunts, uncles, cousins, and the spouses of any near or distant relatives is acceptable and encouraged.
Our family ruled the Kingdom of Luxembourg for over three hundred years. To keep the family united, the Grand Duke Adolphe-Hazar, decreed that our family members should practice incest. The royal house kept this behavior secret from outsiders.
We continued this secret behavior during our transition to the New World. We were fearful a gang of Puritan bible-thumpers might interfere and smack us in the net egg with a paddle.
To align ourselves with the powers to be, we sought important members. George Washington, known as Big George because of his large gastropod, was an enthusiastic member and was known to never miss an Incest celebration. New female inductees were told not to mention Big George's bad breath because of his wooden teeth. In the War of 1812, Dolly Madison mistook British forces as well-wishers for the Incest Harvest Ball and welcomed them while wearing no undergarments. After she'd had sex with a number of them, she realized it was an invasion.
I never knew about the incestuous proclivities of my family until I reached the age of eighteen. To my surprise, I was informed that the ruling members of the family reunion committee had scheduled a coming-of-age party on New Year's Eve in the Grand Hotel in New Orleans. On the first day, new inductees were instructed on our family history and traditions. On the second day, when the New Year's Ball was held, we were encouraged to socialize and become intimate. A large group of hotel rooms above the ballroom were set aside to allow us to pair off and indulge ourselves in whatever incestuous activity we preferred.
In addition to party favors, there were large stainless bowls filled with assorted foil-wrapped brands of condoms, including extra-large sizes to fit all porpoise snouts. Viagra pills in plastic wrap were available. Although many of the girls were on the pill, condoms were still favored for STD protection, medical reasons, avoidance of pregnancy, or for the few who had a weird allergy to the pill. Women who had latex allergies lifted their hips, opting for bare-back, anal sex as a safe alternative. No one ever got pregnant from a butt-fuck.
Tastes being tastes, as our Italian cousins remind us, variations of sex were evident. I looked for females who preferred both anal and vaginal sex on the same night. Vaginal sex, for hygienic reasons, is preferred for the first sexual contact. The secondary act, anal sex, may be less hygienic; but slipping your cazonga into a willing button hole provides an exciting, refreshing finish, like seeing the twinkling stars on a winter night.
Later in the year, a springtime festival was planned for all the family members to attend. No one was forced to have sex with a near relative, but frequently, daughters paired off with Daddy. A few gay members of the family might try a tryst with Pops, Uncle Bill, or a male cousin. Those who preferred same-sex partners were instructed to wear a green shirt or dye their hair Irish, that is, green.
There were no limits on how many trysts a family reunion member might have. The more virile young men might exercise their erections two, three, or more times. The older folks were satisfied with one or two pops. There was a notice on the table warning that the use of more than one 100mg Viagra tablet might limit the user's ability to ejaculate. This was ignored by younger rebels hoping for a super boner, but the truth of the warning was borne out by the testimony of those who defied it. My cousin Hamlet said, "I had a strong boner for an hour, but I couldn't cum no matter how many times I inserted my lubed weegee into her grommet."
My wife, Brenda, has always been the most popular party girl. She often takes a Viagra pill, which allows her to climax more than her usual six or seven times per tryst. At social events, an oak tag poster is placed on a table or taped to a wall for box scores. Family members are encouraged to list each of their incestuous encounters and rate the success of their coupling by marking if the encounter was passionate, perfunctory, or dismal (meaning one partner needs more practice).
I still recall my first incestuous experience. I had just turned eighteen, and the wonder of youth had filled my ball sack with youthful hormones. It was necessary to jerk the mule's tail nightly in order to fall asleep and wake refreshed. I tried to contain myself for five days before the incest ball. My abstention proved to be quite embarrassing. During the nude dance event; my penis was drooling sperm like saliva out of the lips of a stroke victim.
I was dancing naked with a big -breasted partner who pushed me away, complaining my leaky dick was getting her thighs wet. A couple dancing nearby yelled, "Get a room," and we thought that was an excellent suggestion. When we entered the room, I turned on the music and rolled back the sheets. My date suggested a blow job to start the night off. Her suck-off corrected my leaky sperm production, and I was able to perform coitus satisfactorily with Betty.
I recall with pleasure that it was my first time ejaculating without a dirty magazine in my hand. That night, I used both hands to play with Betty's big tits and tweaked her tiny nipples. A few years later, after she'd been married and had two children, we recoupled. I was surprised to see that her nipples were now much longer. I almost choked on her left nipple that slid down my throat like a sweet Jell-O shot. That night, I came quickly in Betty's mouth.. Betty noted on the oak tag that I filled her mouth with so much sperm that it took two swallows to clear her throat.
When Betty and I finished our incest, I was not ready to quit. The room next door had an open door. I tip-toed into the entry and spied someone fucking my mother-in-law. Who was it? From the big head of long dark hair, I thought it might be Jimi, but no, it was cousin Leo, busy plunging his bristle brush into her heynanny. As the middle-aged beauty lay back, her head cantilevered to the side, her wide-open mouth invited entry. I sidled up close to her head and stuck my magic dong into her gape without a word being spoken. She smiled up at me tenderly as she stoved-piped my hornet swatter. Leo gave me a wink and continued his marathon.
Not content with one pop, when my mother-in-law finished with Leo, I insisted on shoving the big kahuna where the sun doesn't shine. This was easy as she had reversed position, kneeling on all fours to blow her son, Junior. With Junior's pecker in her mouth, her big butt was an enticing target. I zapped her bull's eye with my interloper.
This time, as most second acts take longer to finish, I did not rush and at the opportune moment, I pulled Lancelot out of her tush and aimed the royal knight under her butt, making entry into her tender pearl-meat. That is the advantage of having a nine-inch kebab: you can first ram between the lady's buttocks and then swoop under and nab hubby's pride and joy.
It was a marvelous threesome. Brenda's mother skillfully contracted her hairy bear trap at the moment Lancelot entered her saddle. Mom carefully noted this on the oak tag after we finished our tryst. As a result of her reportage, I was deluged with offers to inseminate many of my female kissing cousins' derrieres and kaboodles, one dillywanger after the other. I headed to the bar to get a drink, passing my 3rd cousin's Peruvian wife, where twelve guys had lined up to get a taste of her nachos. Her breasts were so gorgeous that guys were jerking off just looking at her and dripping their goo onto her Double D's.
Being human, I took a break from the sexual activities, wishing my wilted pickle was made of steel. I had some refreshments at the back of the ballroom, where I met my chubby cousin Jill, a dimpled twenty-two-year-old. She was able to persuade my dingus into a semi-erect state using only her two hands. Hoping for the best, we retired to her room and at her request I spent a long time tonguing her large butt hole, which gave me time to recharge my dingus, before working myself forward and going in for a butt hole in one.
Not content to stop once Jill was on her back, I held up her chubby legs, and 'bidened' my time, inserting my twilight avenger into Jill's hairy pussy. The novelty of her sharp pubic hairs, that felt like sandpaper grabbing at my Bentley's cat-skin, was a reward in itself. Afterward, I sucked all my sperm out of her honey pot until there was just a moist cum lining in her twat to welcome the next relative. My mother told me that this was the best way to leave a sex partner's pussy.
When I finished lathering Jill, I felt sleepy, so I took a short espresso break in the cafeteria and indulged in a slice of whipped cream cake. Afterward, I felt sufficiently recharged to ask my sister Malinda to go upstairs to an empty room so she might split her legs for me. We'd never had sex before in a public place. At home, I was always in a constant state of erection, with her living in the next bedroom. As we share the same bathroom, the smell of her pedericca was always in the air.
I used to listen carefully to keep track of my sister's midnight bathroom trips. On more than one occasion, I snuck into the bathroom after her and licked the toilet seat where a few yellow drops remained. None of us is perfect, but I thought my behavior, driven by primeval necessity, was on the borderline of perversion. When my sister entered the bathroom and saw me stooped over the toilet seat licking up her urine, she said,"Why don't you just ask, brother. I'll let you lick me clean whenever you are desperate for a taste of yellow nectar."
