This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of 18.
Hello again. Just a heads up, this story features adult child/parent incestual sex and partner sharing/swinging. If that is not your jam, then please move on to greener pastures. This ordinarily wouldn't be mine either, but comments on a forum thread on the subject got me thinking and I decided to cross that line. And I figured if I was going to cross that line, I was really gonna DO it. This is a family affair.
Pretty Please
Tim would have bet money that he had the most unusual family. But recently his new fiancé Kayla had made him realize that those odds weren't as good as he'd thought.
***
Kayla cleared her throat. "So, babe ... there are ... some things I think I should tell you about my family."
Tim glanced briefly at his new fiancé as he drove. "We're twenty minutes from their door. You're bringing this up now?"
Kayla smiled abashedly. "Well yeah. It's kinda hard to talk about. So, I've been ... procrastinating."
Tim frowned. "All right, I'm listening."
She rubbed her arm absently. "So, umm ... my family is wealthy."
He glanced at her again. "Well, I sort of figured that. We're driving to Cocoa Beach. You can't buy a sandcastle there for less than a half-million."
Her voice took on an irritated edge. "And how would you know that? Did you look that up? Maybe see how much my folks are worth?"
Tim frowned deeply. "As you know, my family has lived here in Florida, between tours, for my whole life. So, you'll forgive this southern yokel, for knowing about where he lives," he said tersely.
She sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that ... well ... they aren't just wealthy. They are incredibly, stupidly, absurdly wealthy."
Tim threw on his directional, pulled into a gas station, and rolled up to a gas pump. After starting the pump, he sat down behind the wheel and looked at his lovely fiancé. For the ten thousandth time, he was struck by her beauty. She was classically pretty with high cheekbones, a tiny nose, big full lips, and pale skin. Her straight black hair shone in the sunlight.
"Okay, let's hear it."
Kayla squirmed in her seat. "My grandfather on my dad's side was a successful businessman. He started a construction company and did very well. Dad followed in his footsteps, building the business, and investing heavily in East Coast real estate."
Tim whistled. Forty years ago, the land was cheap in Florida. But not today.
She looked down at the floorboards. "I didn't tell you because ..."
Tim held up his hand. It had taken him about three seconds to figure out this mystery. "Nope, I get it. How would you know if my feelings for you are real, or just an act to get a wealthy wife, right?"
When she looked at him there were tears in her eyes. She put her hand gently on his forearm. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know you love me. I know it."
He couldn't help feeling a bit hurt, but he did understand. Seeing it from her perspective, it would be a constant doubt in her mind. He leaned over and kissed her tenderly. The gas pump handle clicked shut. Tim secured the pump and got back in. "So how did you go from that life to being an orthopedic nurse with RB?"
Kayla shrugged. "Mom and Dad raised Coral and me so that we knew that they weren't raising a couple of useless rich bitches like the Hiltons. We had to get educated and get jobs, move out on our own, and become useful people. Our trust funds don't kick in until we're forty-five. Grandpa did the same thing with Dad and my Aunt Lori."
Tim was impressed. That was a very blue-collar mentality. As Tim pulled his used Toyota out of the gas station, he smiled. "So, anything else I should know about your folks?" In the year he'd known Kayla, she'd been remarkably close-mouthed about her parents. He only knew they lived on the East Coast and were in real estate. He'd proposed two weeks ago with his family around but hadn't yet met hers.
Kayla took a big breath before replying. "Umm ... yeah. My parents, they're umm ... nudists."
***
Tim's parents were the most unlikely pair. His mother was an acrobat and tumbler from Romania. Tim had inherited her lovely Mediterranean skin tone and dark hair. His father was a juggler and clown from Texas. They met and fell in love under the lights and excitement of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus. Tim was raised there, traveling with his parents and wintering in Sarasota, Florida with the rest of their extended circus family.
Like all the circus kids he'd been mostly home-schooled with support from Ringling Brothers, including tutors and equipment like PCs and textbooks. He'd completed his education at sixteen. His parents had trained him in both their specializations and though he'd enjoyed clowning and tumbling, they weren't really his thing. At the age of sixteen, he was working as a roustabout, helping set up the three rings and everything above them. He helped wrangle the animals, helped the clowns suit up, and helped in any way he could. He loved circus life.
Surrounded by so much cultural diversity he picked up a working knowledge of Russian, Spanish, German, and a bit of Mandarin, on top of his mother's native Romanian which he spoke fluently. It all just came naturally to him. He turned eighteen in early 2017 and shortly thereafter lost his virginity to a beautiful Chinese contortionist, who spoke about ten words of English. She'd taught him so much that night, in positions that defied the Kama Sutra. It turned out that two English words she knew well were "fuck" and "good".
Later that year, life changed drastically for the troupe. Low attendance combined with animal rights protests had the company in dire straits. Ringling Bros. performed its last show in New York City. Afterward, the troupe returned to their winter quarters to lick their wounds.
***
"We're not done, Tim," Jack the talent manager, assured him and his parents. "The company has plans to roll out a brand-new show in about five years. Without animals. Just extraordinary people like your parents." Tim's mom had long since stopped performing and had become the head trainer for all the Ringling acrobats.
Jack looked him in the eye. "We're going to find work for your mom and pop and you ... we'd like to send you to college. We're going to be scouting the entire world looking for amazing people. We're going to need someone who can teach them fluent English. With your already impressive language skills, we'd like that person to be you. You're family."
Tim hadn't given much thought to a college education.
Jack laughed. "I'm told there is already a young Chinese woman whose English has remarkably improved due to your tutelage."
***
Four years later Tim returned to the troupe with an AA in English, a BA in creative writing, a CELTA certificate for teaching English as a second language, and fluent in American Sign language thanks to a lovely blonde he'd dated his junior year.
Four years of scouting had been wildly successful, and the training grounds were full of new people and their families. New trailers dotted the grounds. Tim had more work than he could handle.
One day, he was carrying one of his mother's tumblers to the medics for a sprained ankle, when he first laid eyes on Kayla. The dark-haired young woman spotted them coming into the clinic and her look of concern turned to a delighted smile when she noticed Tim. Their instant attraction hadn't taken long to become something much, much deeper.
***
"Nudists?" Tim said incredulously.
Kayla giggled. "Yep."
Tim's mouth gaped. "How long has this been going on?"
She smiled. "All our lives. Coral and I grew up that way."
Tim frowned. That explained Kayla's penchant for wandering their apartment nude most of the time. It drove him crazy. "Will they be ... umm?"
"Nude when we get there? No, they will be clothed when we arrive. They know you aren't used to the lifestyle."
Tim breathed a sigh of relief. "We're staying for a week. Will we be expected to ...?"
She giggled. "To get with the program? Yes. Definitely."
He'd long since gotten used to Kayla finishing his questions for him. "Whoa boy," he whispered under his breath.
"C'mon, it won't be that bad. You do it just fine with me at home," she said with a lascivious grin.
"Ugh. You like it when I walk around with a hard-on. I doubt your mother will."
He was so caught up in his thoughts, that he completely missed that she didn't reply.
***
Tim's heart was in his throat when the front door opened. The house was a modern masterpiece of architecture built to withstand hurricanes and look great doing it. He could hear the surf on the beach side of the house and could smell the sea. An ornate wrought iron fence surrounded the front of the house. Towards the rear of the home, it turned into an eight-foot stucco wall for privacy.
A tall, lean, and tanned, older man clad only in a blue Speedo, opened the door. His wide smile was genuine and welcoming.
"Daddy!" Kayla rushed past Tim, leaping into her father's arms.
The man swept her into his arms and spun her around in a circle. Tim stepped into the home.
"Kayla, sweetie!"
Tim looked past his fiancé and her father, and his breath caught in his throat.
Years ago, his father had told him, "Boy, if you want to know what your wife is going to look like at fifty, then take a hard look at her mother."
When Tim laid his eyes on his future mother-in-law, he knew he'd hit the jackpot. Kayla was five foot seven and curvy enough to turn heads wherever they went. Her mother was all that
and
a bag of chips, so to speak. Her frame was more Rubenesque than Kayla's, slightly shorter, with lovely big breasts at least two sizes bigger than her daughter's, perhaps more. Her hourglass frame was nicely tanned, and her generous curves were barely covered in a red thong bikini.
"Ah hell," Tim thought. "Clothed when we arrive, my ass."
