The Sweetest Sin

This is not a continuation of

The Sweetest Sin

series. When I finished Chapter 10, that was the end.

Several readers have told me they think the two couples are busily bed-swapping in their future lives, swinging four ways. I can see how you thought that, because it certainly can be interpreted that way, but it's not what I intended. I'll have to go back and rewrite that bit.

I wanted the stories about Jack & Susan and Cassie & Doug to be Love Stories. I wanted the two faithful, loving couples to live happily ever after. Awww!

The way I see it, they move to a mid-size MidWest town where they can start life anew. They live in neighboring houses connected by an annex, so that it's basically one big family home. Jack and Cassie, the twins, pretend to be a married couple. Doug and Susan also pretend that they're a married couple, which isn't difficult because they used to be. But Jack sleeps in his mom's bed and Cassie sleeps in her father's bed.

Two couples, blissfully wed, just not to each other. Monogamous. Momagamous, even.

The millions from the sale of Doug's business means they don't have to work, although Susan still takes on a case or two from clients at eye-wateringly high rates. Doug coaches little league baseball. Jack is pretty much Susan's full-time stud and editor of the family's growing library of sex videos.

Cassie and Susan delivered four bonny babies between them.

Oh -- and Susan is pregnant again; Jack's sperm were just in time to catch her last egg!!!

And yes, they do all live happily ever after.

So what is this new chapter? Well, as I said, it's not a continuation of

The Sweetest Sin

. More

The Sweetest Sin

in an alternative universe, if that doesn't sound too pretentious. I know I said I would not be writing any more stories. But some very supportive messages, public and private, have changed my mind. I'd had a few ideas swirling round in my brain that sort of took on a life of their own. It seemed a shame to waste them. I jotted down a few words, then a few more, and then I thought why not develop them into a proper story. So...

It was 7.30am. Sunlight broke through the blinds, patterning the comforter. I stretched languidly. No rush to get up. Jack, my son, always brought me breakfast in bed - well, a pot of freshly brewed coffee, anyway, not to mention his own special cream.

His twin sister Cassie was staying overnight at her friend Kelli's, so we had the house to ourselves. I could hear Jack downstairs, opening drawers, singing out of tune. I imagined his big 19-year-old dick swinging as he moved around the kitchen, and I smiled.

My hand went to my stomach: today was the day; today I would tell him the news he had been longing to hear.

I lay back and listened to the birdsong. I was drifting off when I was woken by Jack's phone ringing on the bedside table. I ignored it, but it rattled annoyingly. I reached across for it. "Cassie", the screen said. But before I could answer it, she had rung off. A few seconds later, a text appeared on the screen.

Cassie: Have you told Mom yet?

Now, no good ever comes of reading other people's texts. But in all our time as lovers, Jack and I had had no secrets from each other. As I told myself over and over, I trusted him completely. So I didn't think twice about casually scrolling up, reading in reverse order.

Cassie: C'mon!!!!

Cassie: Have you told Mom yet?

Jack: Soon. I'll tell her at breakfast

I smiled. Seems Jack was keeping

one

little secret from me. He'd been teasing me about my birthday present. Was I about to find out? I kept scrolling - and my smile died as I watched my life crash and burn on the screen in real time.

Cassie: Tell her now Jack or I will!!!!

Cassie: I want to know what 8 inches feels like!!!

Cassie: OMG. I just got Mom's tape measure out again. EIGHT. FUCKING. INCHES. That's insane. TELL HER NOW! I want that monster up me as far as it will go.

Jack: Haha LOL. Eight inches will fill ya but not kill ya.

Cassie: No!!! A 13 inch cucumber would be the death of me!

Jack: LOL.

[Three eggplant emojis]

And...?!?!?

Cassie: Nope. The only thing bigger than you in the whole house: a cucumber. Seriously. 13 inches.

Jack: LOL. Deodorant can? Flashlight?

Cassie: I'm so horny. Do you know I was looking round the house for something the same shape as you but bigger. Guess what it was???

Jack: OMG, stop! I'm almost cumming. It won't be long. I just have to tell Mom first

Cassie: I'm literally dripping. I've shaved especially - it's like a poolball down there. A very wet pool ball

Jack: I'm so stiff it hurts. Just be patient and keep that sweet hole wet for me.

Cassie: My pussy's aching for you. That big juicy dick is all I think about. Tell her now!

I dropped the phone on the bed. The room fell away. There were more texts, but I couldn't focus. My vision was blurred. I couldn't read on. I didn't need to. My life, my future, my

everything

, had been ripped apart, crumpled up, dropped carelessly in the trash.

I blasphemed under my breath. That cock-hungry slut. That built, blonde Jezebel. That jumped-up little dick-monkey. We had been getting along so well, she and I. Gossiping, going to church, cooking, clothes-shopping ... all the while knowing that she would be kicking and moaning under her brother later.

Of course, I thought bitterly, he's just like every other male, trading up to a newer model.

How many men does it take to replace a lightbulb?

I saw what he would do with her. He wanted babies. Desperately. At her age he had time to fuck a dozen babies into her.

We would make such beautiful babies, you and me

, he had told me. Well, Jack and his twin sister were superhumanly gorgeous: their offspring would be miniature gods.

My hand went to my stomach, to the scraps of life fluttering there. I had left it too late. If only I'd told him last week when I found out, maybe he wouldn't have turned to Cassie.

The rage, the tears, would come later. Right now, all I felt was numb. Weary, empty and numb.

I understood. Really, I did. Hadn't I always admired her beauty, taken pride in the knowledge that

I

had helped create

that

.

That perfect face with its exquisite bone structure. That flawless figure. I had a flashback to last week's shopping trip, in the changing booth while she tried on clothes. Big breasts, impossibly high and firm. Unblemished milk-white skin, except for her nipples flashing hot pink. And her moist, hairless slit -- that would be hot pink too, I realised with a jolt of emotion that stabbed through the numbness.

She was a gorgeous young lady, with a body made to be ridden, and with years worth of eggs to be fertilized. A brood mare for her stallion to mount half a dozen times a day.

Then the emotion flickered, hot and acid.

That fucking bitch. Blonde, beautiful, stacked beyond belief. She could have had any man she wanted.

Just as quickly as it had flared, my anger faded. I had no right to be bitter. Yes, she was taking away the most precious thing in my life. But what claim did I have on Jack. We'd had our fun. Mom had served her purpose, an old cum dumpster to use until something younger and prettier showed up. And, by God, was Cassie younger and prettier.

If anything,

I

was the cock-hungry slut. It was her he'd always wanted, I should have realized it on that night I had interrupted their first virginal fumblings. Jack and I shared half our DNA, which made our attraction so powerful. Jack and Cassie shared half their DNA ---

plus

they had spent nine months in my womb together. That must make the attraction so much stronger.

I recalled the first time I had measured Jack - and it takes a surprisingly long time before a mother feels comfortable about taking a tape measure to her teenage son's erect penis. "EIGHT. FUCKING. INCHES." I had uttered the exact same awe-filled words as I held up the tape. "Aw gee, Mom," he had said, shy but proud, ducking his head and blushing behind his fringe.

Things had changed.

Aw, gee, sis

. That crooked smile would be for

her

; those long eyelashes would be fluttered at

her

; that awesome cock would be rocking

her

world.

Did they snigger to each other as they ran the tape over his erection, amused at the idea that

she

could ever think she owned

this

? Did they chuckle and shake their heads at the middle-aged mother who imagined her teenage son could possibly be in love with her? In

love

? Yeah, how they must have laughed at the lonely old lady who had put everything - absolutely everything - into this relationship, while all he had put in was his cock.

I could see now that my words, my actions, my giving and receiving of pleasure, were just content to share with his sister for some LOLs while they planned to jettison me from his life. Every stroke he gave, every touch, every "I love you" had been part of one big act. No love, just sex.

No, not sex: anti-sex, because it was the opposite of what good sex should be. I had given myself to him totally, without reservation. I'd held nothing back, emotionally or physically. He knew everything about my body, my needs and wants, my fantasies, my turn-ons. I had told him things I had told no other human being. He had seen me at my most vulnerable, orgasming on him. He knew the innermost secrets of my soul, the most intimate secrets of my body.

The unbelievable, unspeakable things we had said and done to each other, the dreams and plans I had been foolish enough to allow myself - all dust now.

My world had imploded. I saw myself as I really was. A deluded woman of a certain age, mutton dressed as lamb, laughable and pathetic. A punchline to the world's saddest joke. My sexy hairdo, my new clothes, the killer boobs on my trim body ... all meaningless now, if he wasn't my lover.

But there was nothing I could do. He had been railing his mother for months, so I suppose he considered twincest the natural next step.

But he was the love of my life. I mustn't alienate him. I mustn't show how grief-stricken I was. Losing Jack from my bed was unbearable, but losing him from my life was unthinkable. Even though it was tough, the idea of them pleasuring each other in my house while I lay abandoned in my bed, listening to their love sounds.

The stair creaked. Whistling tunelessly, Jack nudged the door open with his foot and put the tray on the bedside table. I couldn't tear my gaze from his cock, long and fat, swaying under his flat, hard young belly. Would this be the last time I got to see it?

"Morning, Mom. Look's like a great day outside. Hey, are you alright? Have you been crying?"

I took a big breath.

"You and Cassie, you'll be great together," I quavered, unable to meet his eye. "You have given me more love and joy in a year than any women has a right to expect in a lifetime. I understand why you want to move on."

The words tumbled out easily, like a speech I'd been rehearsing. And in a sense, I had been. All these long, loving months of jungle sex, there had been a background dread - sometimes loud, sometimes dialed right down, but never completely silenced. A whisper in the deepest recesses of my mind:

One day he'll find someone else.

Without really knowing it, I had been bracing for the moment when the most precious thing in my life would be torn from me.

I just didn't know it would be so soon. Didn't know it would be my daughter.

At the same time I had created the greatest love of my life, I had created the woman who would take him away from me. I had given birth to my own replacement, 19 years ago.

"Thank you for being honest and not carrying on behind my back," I continued, and it took all of my strength not to break down sobbing. "I want you both to be happy, Jack. I'll support you for as long as you want. You two can have the top floor to yourselves and I'll move downstairs into Cassie's room, to give you privacy."

"Mom, what are you talking about?"

I handed him his phone and quoted to him: "

That big juicy dick is all I think about ... I'm dripping for you ... I'm so stiff.

"

He looked stunned for a second, then said: "Jesus, no! Mom, you're my queen for all time, my forever fuck-wife. We're together for life - Mr and Mrs Quentin. If I ever carry on behind your back, it'll be because I'm doing you doggy style." He climbed onto the bed and looked at his phone. "These texts look bad, but I was going to tell you today."

"Tell me that I'm being replaced."

"No! Honest, Mom, it's not what you think. Cassie isn't

instead

of you, she's in addition to you."

I brushed the hair out of my eyes and sniffled. "I still don't understand.

In addition

? What's that?"

"Both of you."

"Both of us? What do you mean? I don't get it. How does that work?" I asked.

"Easier than you think, Mom," he said, and the puzzle pieces slowly began to fit into place.

The family that lays together ...

I dried my eyes. "So -- are you're saying what I think you're saying?"

He gave me that little-boy grin, the one that makes my honey drip. Suddenly the sun had come out. I could hear the birdsong again.

I reached out to cup his big warm fuzzy balls: "So you're taking on double the workload? Mother and daughter? You'll have to keep it up 24/7, mister. Teenage girls can be as hungry as us cougars. Will we have a rota? Will you service me in the morning and her at night? Or will it be one week on, one week off?"

He laughed. "Yeah, something like that - all of the above!"

He groaned happily as I fondled his fertile, life-giving balls. My mind was racing. I had to admit, things were looking so much better now than they did two minutes ago. The 20 orgasms a week that my son had been delivering was better than the 10 I would be getting if he took on Cassie too. But 10 orgasms a week with the man I loved was infinitely better than none.

"Are you beginning to see the possibilities?" he asked.

I giggled. "I'm beginning to see the possibility that I might get some rest!"

It was his turn to laugh. "Oh, Mom, what do you mean? Don't you see? Your pussy is going to be busier than ever. This thing, it's going to be me AND you AND Cassie -- it was the only way she would agree to it."

"Me? What -- me and Cassie? How? Surely you don't...?" I was several moves behind the game again.

He repeated slowly: "You. And me. And Cassie."

Realisation hit me in waves. Confusion. Excitement. Lust. So: Mother-on-daughter live action, is that what he was getting at? Sex with my own daughter? That certainly hadn't been on my cum-bucket list.

Until now.

Jesus. I was quivering. Was I ready for that? My nipples, always a reliable guide in such matters, gave me the answer: they were going off like sparklers on the Fourth of July.

"Cassie has been wanting to do this for so long," Jack continued. "I'm not the only one who's been sniffing your panties in the laundry, taking them to bed and jerking off with them stuffed in their mouth."

"Seriously? Wow." Under the sheets, I was creaming at the thought of my daughter's lovely face buried in my freshly used underwear, of my stains and smells in her mouth.

Just to think. My son in his room, creating rivers of jism while fantasising about me. My daughter, pleasuring herself, with my cunt-smell in her nostrils, my taste on her tongue.

God, if only I'd known.

"It must have been frustrating for her last year when I stopped wearing panties," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, while I was melting downstairs. "I mean, after having unlimited access to Mommy's secretions for so long."

"Yeah. She was distraught ... until she discovered the sheets."

Of course! Our sheets, dumped in the laundry basket every morning with our juices still damp on them. They must have been heaven-scent for a sex-curious teenage girl.

"She would put our wet sheets on her own bed and lie in them, enveloped in the smell," my son explained.

My pussy was twitching at the thought of my young daughter wearing our cum like perfume. Well, there'd be a lot more of that sort of thing from now on.

My imagination switched into overdrive. I couldn't get that nubile body out of my mind.

Those long legs, wrapped around my head. That sexy, sulky cherry-lipped pout on my clitoris.

Me sucking on those melons -- so monumental, they should be carved into Mount Rushmore.

Oh dear -- what sort of a mother was I turning into!

"Anyway," Jack went on, "She's been patient. She's been like a bitch in heat since she found out our little secret."

"Wait - no! Our secret? Oh God, surely not. She knows we're lovers? Please tell me no."

"Mom, we've fucked hundreds of times, all over the house. She can hear headboards banging, bedsprings creaking, she can smell sex in a room. And you think she doesn't know why your sheets always smell that way?" He took a deep breath. "And there's another thing."

My heart was thumping wildly.

Oh no. How much worse could this get?

"We've been careless," he said. "She's ... how can I put this? Well ... she's seen the movies. All the videos we've made of us making love. She found the memory stick in your drawer."

My mind went blank. Our whole sex life, Jack's and mine, was on that USB, hour upon hour upon hour of it, from the very first fuck. Every position. Every caress. Every climax. Every intimate love-word.

"So she's seen us, you know, doing it?" I croaked eventually, my mouth dry.

"She's seen

everything

. We have no secrets from her now," he said.

I sat back. Wow. So Cassie had witnessed me in all my hairy glory, moaning on my back or on my knees, her brother's enormous prick slamming his seed deep into me. I blushed. She'd seen her mother split open from half a dozen angles, mouth agape, big tits bouncing indecently, knees spread, being incestuously fucked to bed-rocking orgasms by my virile son, plunging over and over into my thick wet cunt-bush.

Those precious videos -- did she play them with the sound turned down, as I sometimes did, while I moaned silently on screen, wide-eyed like a gaffed fish impaled on a sweet pink spike? Did she play them at half speed, watching me arch and writhe in slow motion? Did she put our stained sheets to her nose and inhale deeply as she focused right in on the action, filling the whole screen with a close-up of her brother's mighty penis pumping into me, my hairy cunt lips stretched to the limit around his girth?

My heart was pounding, and not with fear or anger now: I realized I couldn't wait to see her in the same position, making the same movements and the same noises.

I began calculating the logistics. Jack would always be the bull who led the herd, but could Cassie and I get some girl time alone? Would Jack give her to me for my bitch? I even envisioned myself bringing her off with a 13-inch cock-cumber.

No! Better: I could raunch her with that weird Japanese bottle she'd brought back from New York after visiting her father. I visualised her pink labia clinging to the glass as I pushed its cold hardness into her intimate depths, withdrew it from her, slid it in again. My tongue on her clitoris, teasing, pleasing, eventually giving in to her pleading and allowing her to cum on her glass phallus.

Or would

she

be the debaser? Would it be

her

wielding the bottle? I could feel it now. The glass, black and frigid. The base bulging from my thick blonde bush, the rest of it inserted deep in my cunt, rigid and unyielding.