The first few days of a new affair are always the most exciting. For the next week, Stacy and I hid out whenever we could, doing everything we could think of with each other's bodies. The fact that we were brother and sister failed to matter; we were both (thoroughly) consenting adults and she was on the pill. When I was with Stacy, I felt as giddy as an astronaut the first time up, gazing with wonder at all the beauty of the world.
But on planet Earth, we had more mundane things to deal with, including the depressing task of what to do with Dad's personal effects. Mom sent me to the garage to take inventory, while she, for the first time, set foot in Dad's study. He had never allowed that while he was alive.
So, for the next couple of hours I sorted through fishing tackle, power tools, books, boxes, and toys. I went to the study with the results of my findings, only to be shocked by my mother's appearance. She sat on the sofa, sobbing quietly, and uncharacteristically, had put away a few belts of Scotch. On the coffee table were several photographs and a stack of videotape. I looked up at the screen, and watched in shock as my gorgeous little sister sucked merrily away on Dad's cock.
A wave of irrational jealousy flooded through me. It's one thing to hear her tell it, but quite another to see it happen. They were in this room; Stacy was on her knees only in bra and panties while Dad's head rolled back against the sofa, his pants open. Despite my anger, I found an erection growing in my pants. Did Stacy know about this? I wondered.
I followed the natural camera angle to the mirror behind Dad's desk. As Mom continued to watch the tape, I found that the mirror was on hinges. Pulling it open, we discovered that what we thought was a tool shed was actually a small recording studio. A digital video camera was aimed right at the couch.
"That-- that-- bastard!" Mom spat when she saw what I had discovered. Then her delicate, birdlike face softened and she came over to me.
"I'm so sorry, Charles," she said after blowing her nose. "I never meant for you to see any of this."
I gave her a quick hug. She went back to the sofa, shut off the TV, and drained her glass. I joined her.
"That wasn't rape," she told me. "He and Stacy were actually having an affair. Here! In my house! And all this time I thought it was Karen at the country club."
Mom poured herself another glass of Scotch while I sorted through the photos. Stacy jacking Dad off, Stacy impaled on his prick, Stacy nude, Stacy in lingerie. My cock was now fully swollen, and bent in half under my zipper, but I was hardly in a position to adjust it.
"How did they fool me like this?" she asked the empty air. "How long has it been going on?"
She started to cry again. I took her in my arms and, much as I had with Stacy, let her cry it out. I caressed her soft blonde locks, which only now showing a little gray at the roots. I kissed away the tears on her high, proud cheeks, and resisted a powerful urge to keep kissing, to nuzzle her slender swan's neck, part the zipper on her tight black skirt …
Mom pulled free, took another sip of Scotch, and got a look at the oversized tennis ball throbbing in my pants.
"Oh, my," she said. "Is this turning you on?"
I blushed to my toes. "Sorry, Mom, I can't help it."
"Straighten it out, Charles, before you hurt yourself."
Mom stood up when I did and went to close the door. With great relief, I straightened my difficult dick. Mom was a little shaky on her feet when she came back to the sofa. I took her arm to steady her and try to puzzle out the look in her eyes. I fired a shot in the dark.
"You're a little turned on yourself, aren't you?" I said.
Mom swallowed and our eyes, our identical green eyes, searched one another as she nodded slowly.
"I've never been a passionate person," she said softly. "I knew your father had other women, and, really, I didn't mind. It took the pressure off me. But seeing this … Charles, I don't know what to feel."
She did not resist when I pulled her into my embrace, and tilted her chin for our first intimate kiss. Even considering what I had been doing with my sister, the experience of kissing my mother like this was strange and overwhelming. I put my hands on her pert little ass and pulled her close, letting my heat and hardness radiate against her pussy. I probed her mouth with my tongue and she yielded. I ground my cock against her and let my hands roam all over her body. She broke the kiss when I tried to cup her small, perky tits.
"I haven't been kissed like that in a long time," she said. "Kiss me again."
This time I found the zipper to her skirt, startling her. It slid slowly down her hips and legs to the floor, and I shoved my burning cock against her again.
Mom reached between us and gave it a cautious squeeze. "It's so hard, Charles." Mom surprised me by dropping to her knees and unbuckling my belt. She slowly opened my zipper and my pants fell to the floor. She ran her fingernail along the outline in my underwear, fascinated with it, watching it twitch with desire, desire for her. She squeezed my balls, and I began to wonder if she was going to change her mind.
I was too far gone to let that happen. I yanked my briefs down and there it was, eight inches of florid, torrid incestuous lust bobbing just under Mom's nose. I dug my fingers into her hair and maneuvered my cockhead just under her lips.
"I'm not sure I'm ready for that," she whispered.
"Play with it, Mom," I said in a hoarse whisper. "Get to know it, because it wants more than anything to know you."
"Do they still call this a hand job?" she asked as her fingers slid up and down my throbbing meat. As she stroked me with one hand, she was opening her white blouse with the other. I could feel my balls getting tighter when she suddenly stopped.
"Don't worry, Charles," she said, shirking the garment to the floor, and was now down to her lacy black bra and panties. She started masturbating me again, only now with a more intense effort.
Mom's world had now shrunk to her hand and the pulsating fiery cock in it. Her eyes shone with concentration as, she told me later, the erotic skills she'd acquired as a young girl, long in disuse, came back fresh and new. Her strokes slowed, her free hand came up to tickle and tease my balls, which were getting tighter by the stroke.
"Mom," I rasped, "I'm getting pretty close."
She just looked up at me, gave me a tight, conspiratorial smile, and went back to the job at hand. How I wanted to thrust my hips forward and get my dick between those thin, elegant lips!
I could wait no longer. My balls exploded, sending gobs and gobs of white, hot spunk into the air, raining on Mom's nose, cheekbones, hair, shoulders, cleavage. She laughed and playfully caught a drop on the tip of her tongue, which gave me an extra erotic thrill. Yet her hand never slowed as she milked my prong for every spurt it was worth. When I stopped spewing, she rubbed some of my jism into the skin above her chest, and then went into the small bathroom on the other side of Dad's desk.
As I heard the water running, I took the opportunity to remove the rest of my clothing. So did Mom. I stood there and stared, watching my mother reveal more and more of the slender, delicate body she had done so much to keep youthful. I hadn't seen her breasts since I was an infant. They were small, about the size of grapefruits, but her nipples were standing out like cherry pits, and that's when I knew she was sincere about this, that it wasn't just the Scotch making her behave this way. Soon Mom and I were standing naked before one another, hot and ready.
My cock was back at attention when we kissed now, our naked bodies writhing together with raw sexual hunger. I pushed Mom back onto the sofa and buried my face in her dark blonde bush.
"Charles!" she cried when my tongue slithered into her pussy. "No one's ever-- Uh! Uh!"
I replaced my tongue with two fingers and began to lick at her fully distended clit, which poked at me like a little red penis. My finger action and my tongue were having the desired effect: Mom cried out and mashed her thighs together, trapping my head and making it hard to breathe, but I continued licking away.
"Coming! Oh, God! Coming!"
Mom's thrashing slowed down after the third orgasm. I licked my way up her sleek body, caressing her ass and thighs. She cried out again when I took one of her nipples between my teeth. My cock stood poised at her pussy, just waiting for me to give a thrust.
When our lips met again, I felt Mom's hand grasp my cock and pull it forward. That moment of first penetration was sweet and electrifying. Mom's lovely face was a confused mix of lust, drunkenness and a little bit of terror. I slid half way in and stopped.
"Oh, Charles," she whispered. "What are you doing?"
"Mom, are you sure?"
