Surreal Incestuous Flight

To write in a somewhat surreal way about incestuous fucking The greed of fuck tips us upside down, inside out, like pockets dribbling from a demon's condom, upon a cunt covered in slippery metaphors.

This is what I don't get. A sexy dose of sister, fucking her brother. A son who weighs a bit between the legs joyously standing up, fucking his mother. Unfortunately there is no father, or brother. What is up with that?. A nice piece of ass called mummy, enjoined with her son's fleshly goblet, a wine cock which is in character. The body will fuck whoever, and whatever it likes. The sexual body doesn't fuck minds. It's all in the animal body.

We get around the house naked. We eat our meals naked. We watch TV naked. We answer the front door clothed. We fuck on the father bedsheets stained in stale cum. I am putting the keyboard of my writing into your musty cunt. I don't want my description of our incestuous fucking to become lengthy. Look at the penis. Look at the vulva. Break it down to the eye. We play in the puddle of our urine, sometimes. Go on glance at the puddle of urine on the kitchen floor. My sister pissed there pleasantly. I slipped on the puddle bathing my ass, and balls, in it. Geronimo!.

My testicles are a handful to play with, and my cock is like a steam train entering a station. My eyes would linger upon my sister's cunt throughout the day. They roved over her pearlescent body. But like I said once already, my eyes would linger very often on my sister's vulva. The same for her, she would need a ladder to climb to the tip of my hyperexcited cock. We did not pretend our genitals had a life of their own, as they did. My mother would rub my balls occasionally sacrificially. A lamb to the slaughter.

My mother's cunt was dark shaded by hairs, and her somewhat long outer labia drooped like a tongue at a thirsty waterhole. Her tits were too long for my weighty taste, and somewhat saggy, but my cock didn't care a damn. My mum liked to sit on my lap, while all the while my cock explored her secret forest places. Remember we wore our birthday suits, ironed and creased.

Placing a hand on my shoulder was the signal to fuck. Incest was written on our genitals, displayed across neon flickering billboards. The spread of dainty fingers on my skin played a deft tune inside my cock. My sister's cunt swelled, and my cock plumed. My fingers were like a sticky anus running over her body, making circles around her tits. What is the worst that could befall me?. The bottled up joy of sperm I feel deep down in the dark forest of my cock, transports decays of passion to you dear reader. Witness the fleshy periscope in her cunt, seeking out visual pleasures.

The secret fingers of my sister's anus, feeling my skin like toilet paper wiping the excrement from my body. Her fingers all absorbing, exploring my youth-tight skin. Her breasts quivered, and I quieted them with my wet mouth. With the innocent expression of a small child at suck, I looked up at her, and drowned. My sword going in, and out, of her twat. My mother came upon us, as a character in a story book forest. Her reading eyes grazed over our hills, and vales. She sat there spreading her thighs, and played in the sandpit of her clitoris. Anything was possible in my family. I fucked her moaning daughter, as I nudged my mother's nipple which was close to my face, and kept getting in my way. Each nipple was an inch deep that forced them rigid. We were a manage-a-trois. Visualize tongues in space searching for saliva.

In spasms of superiority, I joyed my sperm into my sister's catcher. "Finish me. I beg you" my sister implored in her dress of sperm. Her cunt clenched around my end away as I boned her. Mother pulled me off my sister, to look at the fish kicking in its dying spasms. "The King is dead!" she cried. "Long live the King!".

My mother pulls on the sensitive skin of the foreskin ending, which heats up the testicles, and I am on her like a shoe. Dear reader I am producing more spunk than ink. It can't be helped. Already the caravan of death spasms are left far behind us in the vacant desert. My sister sits there, and watches with sperm rolling from her orifice like leftover popcorn. My bouncy balls are slapping our mother's cunt. My sperm dressed sister grabs, and squeezes my two balls like a lost lover. My sister won't let go, and follows my cock into the folds of her mother's gaping majora. She rides with me, holding my ball-sack like a whip to the stallion. My two solid bouncy balls plugging into my mother's cunt, with my sister's curious hands firmly on the soft soap of my balls. Santa couldn't have wished for more.

My beautiful cock demarcates where the the bloodlines bold. But let's not anticipate the debauchery of anticipation. I want to cum, but in my own time in the moist cubbyhole of my mother's pelvis. I am granting you dear reader to indulge a look, or a voyeuristic perve at our inner workings. My slick cock, sawing through her inner channel, foaming, milky. My mother's resilient cunt bouncing on my balls. Welcome to the holy church of incest. My Jesus gloating in its coating, of the satiny oil of Mesopotamia. My hips, my ass, are vigorous to my jutting cock entering her glorious cunt, which is crazy to rub those grabby mummy lips against my hard on. I thrust, and I strain inside my boggling testicles. My sister's hand tight around my ball bag, feels the hoards of soft sperm worming its way from the tender eggs, filching its way up the splendor of the dorsal, spending the Jesus, his vomiting predicted by pleasure's fate.

We climb over each other, feeling the hard bone, the swamp, and the dark forest. We kiss somewhat long in those places that are covered in a lather of sexy metaphors. But the place I love to kiss is on the lips. Lips full of saliva with a cock-like tongue snaking inside. We do it because we feel sexy as cucumbers. When my mother, and my sister are standing side by side, my sister's tits are higher, looking as perky as a skyscraper on a Friday night in "A' cup, while our mother's tits portion long with weight bearing nipples. Their cunts nearly look the same, nectarine, and peachy as a ripe fig. Both cunts are a poke for the tongue, and very eatable. If I stand beside them both my ball bag looks like a deformed cunt, and my cock challenges as an oversized clitoris. Our anuses are the same, and are as mucosal as our lips. The anus, and the mouth, are made of the same material, small wonder at the out-of-breath excitement.

So if people talk about us, they can hold their tongues. They can finger their neighbor's clitorises, and play with their straight poker faces. They can moisten their customer's ass holes with dollars of art, sensitivity, and a regular social finger. Suck, want, or fuck, it doesn't matter how incestuous the shape. The naked body is made of many interests. We each have skin in the game, and Google is the biggest internet pervert, made from bodily excitement, to satisfy hysteria. Sister, brother, daughter, son, mother, father, I am a filthy, perverted, motherfucker, sisterfucker, sticker-upper.

White cube institutions may introduce the grandparents to the incestuous plethora. Granny with her shrunken paps, a wizened belly, a crazed, leathery cunt, her mouth is a killer, and with eyes as old as God. She places her hand on her belly, and scratches her cunt. And grandad as loose as the sands-of- time down there, his ballbag shrunken like a wizened apple, and his cock well past the juicy side, he pisses into a bowl of consecrated communion wine, which the whole family proceeds to drink. Be off mosquitoes!.