Slow Burn To A Family Threesome Ch 01

All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.

I wanted to explore how people begin incestuous relationships as adults. Another story I read here on Literotica pointed out that you don't just wake up one day and decide to have sex with a family member. I've written a lot of stories about incest and I sometimes struggle to build a context around family sexual relationships. This story contains all of my favourites -- mother/son incest, brother/sister incest, mother/daughter incest, and pee. Always pee.

A party, lots of merry drinkers, and a pool. There were maybe twenty of us, and the pool was the centre of fun. I watched with delight as wrestling got bold -- girls ganging up on boys to pull their bathers off, mostly ending up losing their own tops in the process. My sister Emma was one of them. She's quite buxom and despite having three pairs of tits to look at, I gazed at hers. And she saw me.

Later, while she was catching her breath, she sat next to me, still dripping wet, with a towel around her shoulders. "I thought you liked Jenny."

"I do."

"Oh. So, her tits didn't grab your eyes like mine did then?"

They're not as pretty.

"Don't know what you mean." I sipped my fresh cold beer.

"Bullshit. Jesus Mike, they're just tits."

Yes, but they're fabulous. And they're yours.

"Not

just

tits. My

sister's

tits."

"Like you haven't seen them before."

I laughed: "Not the same when I'm sneaking peeks as when you're showing them off."

"I was not! Thomas pulled my bikini bra off."

"While you were trying to help him pull Alice's off."

"So? I always wondered what hers would look like. And what did you mean 'sneaking peeks'?"

"Oh, nothing."

I got a punch on the shoulder. But that night, in my fitful sleep on the loungeroom floor, my dreams were full of Emma's glistening wet body and her precocious smile. If I'd been at home in my own bed, I would have seen to the persistent erection I woke up with.

At home, another day. It's the afternoon before Emma's best friend's 20

th

birthday party. My own was two weeks away, Emma had her 21

st

almost a year back. She was wriggling into her 'little black number' as she called it -- strapless, skin-tight, short, and v-necked very low. I was walking past her bedroom.

"Oooh, hubba hubba Em."

"Perve! Um, is it too tight? I haven't worn it for a while."

"Might look better without the bra straps."

"I'm not gonna wear a bra, stupid."

"Oh. Right. In that case the tighter the better so we can all see your nipples!"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

Fuck yes.

"Hell no. You're my sister. By the way, you better wear black panties -- the hem is so short I can see your whiteys."

Fuck! Is that a cameltoe?

"Oh. Thanks. I've changed my mind. Um, you wanna close the door so I can change?"

I stepped into the room and closed the door, grinning.

"Idiot! From the outside! No wait. Help me get the zipper."

I undid the zipper down her back, all the way to the elastic of her silky white panties. I looked at her pale skin, straight spine, and the outward curve of the top of her butt with growing appreciation. I could not deny my cock appreciated it too. Like a creep, I stood outside the closed door and heard the rustle as she peeled the rejected garment off and I imagined her standing there in her silk underwear. I remember feeling no guilt that my sister had turned me on. After all, nothing had actually happened...

Emma got a little merry, but not drunk at Lily's party. She wore tight white pants that ended just above her ankles and a sleeveless blue satin blouse with no bra that gave everybody plenty of side-boob views. Including me. I had stopped drinking early because I was driving her and two of her girlfriends home. It was two a.m. by the time we left, and two-thirty when we said goodbye to ... I still can't remember her name.

Anyway we were twenty minutes from home, I took the freeway and then Emma piped up: "Oh, maybe I shoulda gone inside with..." (shit, what

was

her name?)

"Why?"

"Cos I need to pee."

"Twenty minutes, mostly on freeway. Can you hold it?"

"Gonna have to."

Ten minutes later, Emma was wriggling and clenching her hands between her thighs.

"Mike, can we pull over. I'm not gonna make it home."

"Um, we'll have to get off the freeway, there's no cover for ages."

This might get interesting.

"Um, I'm not gonna care soon. I'll have to squat between the front and back doors."

I gulped. Within seconds I felt the blood rise in my cock. My sister was about to pee right next to my car and I so, so wanted to see her do it.

On a bend, I pulled over so she had maximum protection from the few cars that would pass us. I hadn't even fully stopped when she began fumbling with her belt and zipper. As the car stopped, Emma jumped out and wrenched the back door open. Then she began swearing: "Fuck!

Fuck!

The fucking zipper is stuck half-way!"

I leaned over and tried to help. There was not even anything sexual in it -- she needed help and I tried to get the zipper down for her, not even thinking how close my fingers were to her pussy, despite the faint cameltoe I could see there.

Those few seconds robbed her of the chance to squat in total privacy. I would have looked away but just as the zipper gave way, Emma ripped her pants and panties down at the same time and immediately, even as she began to squat, her pee burst from her in a loud hiss. The first of it hit the side of the car, then she peed underneath it, while I straightened up then tore my eyes away.

The momentary glimpse of her smooth pussy lips, crowned with a neat little tuft of near-jet black hair, was emblazoned in my mind, and I closed my eyes to hold the picture there while I listened to her peeing hard, the hissing and splashing mixed with her moaning at the relief it gave her, for maybe ten or twelve seconds before I heard her stream weaken and falter to little splashes. I imagined a big puddle of bubbling pee, maybe even steaming in the cool summer night, running in a river to the side of the road.

Next I heard her panties glide across her thighs, then the less glorious sound of her pants and zipper.

"Damn. I think you broke the zipper."

I looked and sure enough there was an opening below the button through which white satin panties bulged slightly way down where her pubic mound started.

"Oh, sorry. We're almost home though..."

And I need to jerk off.

"Enjoy the show, sport?"

"Huh?"

"Jesus Mikeie. You've got a tent pole in your jeans."

Wanna see it? Just say so...

"Mmm. Sorry. It's just..."

...It's just that I saw your pussy and I saw you pee and the sound drove me wild and I can't wait to get home to jerk off.

"Not sure what to make of that, little brother!"

I tried to smile it off and concentrate on rejoining the sparse traffic for the rest of the drive home. And as soon as I got into the shower, I jerked off and within two minutes I splashed my jizz all over the place.

The very next morning Emma decided to tease me about it. She reminded me that I'd got a hardon because of her. After a while, I decided to turn the tables: "How do I know you didn't plan the whole thing? Maybe it's

you

who's the perve?"

"Right. I made it so my brother could watch me pee."

If only that was true.

"Glad you admitted it!"

"Hah. I'm still just a little creeped out by your reaction though, Mike." This was said with a degree of seriousness, so I responded in the same vane: "OK. Look, it's a kink of mine. Girls peeing."

"Even your sister?"

"Em, you looked so hot in those pants and..."

"OK, forget it. Mike? How much did you see?"

"Oh, nothing. Funny place for a birthMike, though!"

She laughed at my joke. She doesn't have a birthMike in any place that I saw.

Later that day, I left for the gym. Usually I'd be away for two hours, but a sign on the door said they were closed due to a family tragedy.

The fan in the bathroom at home had failed, so when nobody was home we left the door open so as not to steam the room up. By accident, I walked past the door just as Emma stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. I saw her for no more than a second in the mirror, full naked and glistening wet.

Emma pulled the towel around her, and said: "Get a good look, sport?"

"Sorry, but the door was open."

"I didn't expect you home."

"No, gym was closed. Sorry Em."

"It's OK. Starting to make a habit of it though, mate?"

I laughed: "Seriously Emma, both were accidents but..."

"But what?"

I tried to lighten the moment: "Well, if you weren't my sister, I'd wanna ..."

Jesus, I'd try anything. Everything.

"Haha. If you weren't my brother I might let you." She grinned like the cat with the cream and closed the bathroom door in my stunned face.

As if that little tease weren't enough to make me horny, twenty minutes later at the sink my mother dropped something and splashed her cotton dress right on her left breast. As she turned I saw her nipple, brown and dollar-sized, as clear as if the garment weren't even there before she dabbed at it with a towel. Now my mother is quite well endowed in that department so everything jiggled as she tried to dry off. I watched, in part to get another glimpse of her breast but also because in the sunset light through the kitchen window her short brown hair looked golden and I realised, not for the first time, how lovely she is to look at and how much Emma resembled her. They have the same face, mum's barely shows the extra years, and if you took Emma's figure and added two inches on every important dimension you get my mother's shape. Womanly, promising to be soft and motherly. And sexy. I let myself recognise the fact.

I went for a run and showered. In bed, I drifted off and slept soundly until a bunch of images began to invade my brain. Emma's pussy, peeing loud and strong. Her tits dripping water from her shower. In the way dreams have, in my remembering of mum's splash incident her dress became completely transparent altogether and the recollection of Emma's dripping breasts I'd seen for real fuzed with an image of mum's wet brown nipples, and I looked in my dream to the corner and Emma stood there, holding her towel by her side, naked and dripping wet. When I looked back to mum, she had squatted like Emma had beside my car, hitched her dress out of the way and peed hard all over the kitchen floor. Still in my dream I looked down at my shorts and my erection. I heard Emma laugh. Then she was pulling down my shorts and said something like: "Hey mum. See what peeing pussies does to your son?" while she stroked my cock.

Mum replied with: "Oh it's OK. I needed to go so bad. I don't mind if my son watches."

In that discontinuous way that dreams have, suddenly I was on my back in bed and on fire with the feeling of a warm, wet mouth on my cock. Looking down, the short brown hair told me it was mum. In a half-sleep, the conscious part of me ejaculated weakly while the dreaming part held mum's head gently on my cock.

I didn't often have wet dreams, I masturbated too regularly for that. But in the pre-dawn light, as I felt my ejaculate on my thigh, I rolled over and groaned at the realisation that the two females who made me the horniest were my own mother and sister.