Whole Famn Damily

Story so far: Two days before his sister's wedding, Paul awakens to find all the women in his family transformed into hyper-sexualized versions of themselves. The whole family seems to be living a waking fantasy. Paul and his older brother have just had sex with their cousin bridget. Contains elements of sci-fi/fantasy and incest/taboo.

Essential Dramatis Personae:

Paul: Narrator. 26-year-old graduate student. Second of four children.

Anthony. 28-year-old civil servant. Oldest of four children.

Ted. 24-year-old lieutenant in the US Army. Youngest brother.

Cassie. 22-year-old private in US Army. Youngest child. Getting married in two days.

Elaine. 55-year-old housewife. Mother of the bride.

Austin. 60-year-old attorney. Father of the bride.

Bridget. 27-year-old attorney. Cousin of the bride (mother's side). Only child.

Liz. 52-year-old teacher. Aunt of the bride (mother's side). Widow. Elaine's sister.

Allie. 56-year-old housewife. Aunt of the bride (father's side). Austin's sister.

Jake. 25-year-old publishing assistant. Cousin of the bride (father's side). Older of two.

Mark. 19-year-old student. Cousin of the bride (father's side). Younger of two.

Mack. 58-year-old financial consultant. Uncle of the bride (father's side).

Chapter Two

While my brother and Bridget showered, I cleaned up and went downstairs to see what my mother was up to. She asked if Anthony was up, and when I said he was showering, she didn't ask any other questions such as why it had taken me so long to figure out if he was up yet. Which suited me just fine, as I realized I didn't entirely remember the answer. Just as I knew this world wasn't quite real, the memories formed within it apparently didn't take a very firm hold, because it took me a few moments to recall that I'd just had my cousin straddling me, riding my cock, while my brother fucked her ass.

Mom she just told me to hang out for a bit, that once she talked to Anthony and made sure he knew everything that needed done while he was out besides picking up his tux, she was going to ask me to help her make decorations.

I don't know why, but I was sort of surprised that the hyper-sexualized version of my mother was still around. In the back of my mind, I had assumed that this dream state was cooked up by my subconscious to address the fact that it had been a long time since I'd last gotten laid. Having just fucked my cousin, I would have expected the fantasy world to recede. But it had not. My mother was still sporting a figure I suspected was biologically impossible, with breasts close to the size of her head and an ass to match, but a waist I could have fit in my hands. The gray hair she'd started to get was gone, her mane jet black. Her skin was as firm and smooth as her daughter's. Her every movement caused a reaction in my pants. That body would have demanded attention in any clothes, but the flimsy dress she wore not only left a lot of delicious skin exposed, but swished to and fro across her hips and ass cheeks liberally as she moved.

My thoughts were broken as Anthony and Bridget came down the stairs. If mom noticed the guilty smiles on their faces, she didn't let it show. She just launched into her spiel on what had to be done. Big surprise, Bridget volunteered to go with Anthony, leaving me home alone with mom.

We went into the living room and set about making paper flowers to decorate the community center. She sat right next to me on the couch, one thigh pressing up against mine, and leaned in very close to show me how to make the flowers, her breasts inches from my hands.

Unlike earlier this morning, I couldn't be sure whether she noticed me staring lasciviously at her or not. A few times she paused in the middle of relaying the instructions, looked me in the eyes with a hint of a grin, then continued.

This was crazy. I didn't know what had changed, but for whatever reason some members of the family seemed to be caught up by it while others weren't. I allowed myself to not feel guilty about fucking my cousin because she had initiated it, and was clearly as subject to this fantasy within the waking world as I was. But there didn't seem to be any indication that my mother was, and yet here I was contemplating how to make a move.

Still, why was she looking at me like that? It hardly seemed like an invitation, but she never grinned awkwardly at me in that way.

As I worked on the flowers, I leaned closer to her, until before long I had one leg propped up on her thigh as I worked, my arm brushing against her left breast. She offered no objection, nor did she make any attempt to move away. As I finished the first stage of assembly, I handed the pile to my mother.

When she took the flowers from me, I decided to lean in and kiss her. Not as a son kisses a mother, but as a man kisses a woman. She didn't react at first, neither recoiling nor returning the kiss. Then she kissed me back, slipping her tongue into my mouth. Her full lips were soft, lush, and I was in heaven. I repositioned myself, sitting sideways on the cough, and slid one hand up her thigh. Her skin was soft, but there were thick muscles underneath giving them beautiful shape.

At last she pushed me away. I waited for her to demand to know what they hell I was doing. But she didn't. It was as if it was perfectly natural for me to act this way. "We have to get these flowers done, Paul. There are a million other things that need to be done in the next couple of days, we can't fall behind."

That was it. No mention of how wrong it was for a son to be feeling up his mother as they made out in the living room. Just the no-nonsense "we have work to do" tone she would have used if I'd asked if I could go hang out with my friends.

"I know," I said. "I know."

She ran a finger along the bottom of my jaw. "Everyone's busy running errands, and won't be back til later this afternoon. If we finish these quickly enough, maybe there'll be a reward for your hard work." With that, her hand trailed down from my face, over my chest, lightly across my crotch.

Well, if that wasn't an incentive to work hard. "Well that first part went pretty quick. I bet we can have them all finished long before everyone gets home." I gave her another kiss, lingering enough to savor it but not as though I were trying to do anything but sneak in one kiss.

Mom glanced at the flowers in her hands. "That was pretty quick. It took me a lot more than twice as long working on these by myself last week."

I dared a quick kiss against her neck, just below her ear. She moaned softly, rolled her head to the side. "Mmm. Well, then let's hurry up and finish. I'd like to have these done and woven into the lace and ivy within an hour."

"No problem. It'll be done in a half hour, just watch."

She laughed. "Is that so?" Her hand went to my crotch again, but her touch wasn't so fleeting this time. She rubbed her fingertips up and down against the fabric of my jeans. "Well if you manage that, I'll let you have me any way you want me."

That said, I moved down the couch to avoid the temptation of diving on my mother while I worked. Attaching the other layers of petals went even faster than the first round, inspired as I was to be as efficient as possible. It was tedious and repetitive work, pushing the green plastic stem through the paper cutouts, but I built up a rhythm soon enough. All I had to do was imagine it wasn't a plastic stem going into a paper ring but my stem parting my mother's eager flower petals.

But weaving the flowers into the ivy and lace proved more difficult than I'd imagined. I kept close watch of time, and realized pretty quickly that there was no way I was going to honor my boast. At the rate things were going, it wouldn't be hard to get everything done within the hour my mother had wanted, but there was no way we'd make a half hour. She hadn't specified what reward that meant I'd get, but something told me I wouldn't be able to do all the carnal things to her that I was imagining as we worked.

I was about halfway through my second strand of lace and ivy when I realized I was doing them wrong and had to start over. I was crushed. As it turned out, when I finally finished the last strand, the whole job had taken just a bit more than an hour.

"Well that's the last one," I said. I resisted the urge to remind my mother of the deal none-so-subtly by glancing at my watch.

"Yes it is. Thank you very much," my mom said. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Nope. Although, the added motivation to finish early helped." I tentatively placed my hand on her thigh, gauging her reaction.

"Yeah, it did," she said. "I'd have to agree with that." She slid her thigh up on the couch and the dress rode up her leg. I could almost see her panties. "Too bad you didn't get done sooner. I was actually looking forward to seeing what you would do with the blank check."

I caressed her thigh, moving my hand inward in concentric circles. At first, my fingers only grazed her mound, but as they moved closer I began massaging her vulva through her dress. "It so happens I might be willing to show you nonetheless."

She arched her back just so. "Mmm. I don't doubt that you are. But who knows how much longer your father will be out, let alone your sister. We're going to have to make this quick and save the rest for later."

Later? That took some of the sting off the refusal.

Mom got up, took my hands in hers, and pulled me up from the couch. "Let's go," she said, and led me by the hand into hers and dad's bedroom.

I couldn't resist the urge to slap her ass as we walked. I was mesmerized watching her cheeks sway, her hips roll, as she walked. That airy little dress was as hot as lingerie. As I expected, her cheeks jiggled lightly on impact. I wanted to shove her up against the wall, spread her legs apart with knees, hike her dress up to her waist, and ravage her from behind right there in the hall. But I didn't have my blank check. I could only imagine how it would feel to have those glorious globes of flesh cushioning my every thrust. Bridget was a beautiful girl, and she did give head every bit as well as my brother had promised, but she didn't have the curves on her this sex goddess in front of me did.

As my mother eased open the squeaky door to her bedroom, my thoughts strayed just long enough to wonder if whatever had come over the house worked outside. Clearly it didn't just effect me, given what I'd walked in on with Anthony. Was Cassie giving my younger brother road-head while Aunt Liz fingered herself in the backseat? Vice-versa? Were they both crammed in the front seat, with his cock in one beautiful mouth while the other pair of lips pleasured his balls?

There would be time to wonder about the limits of the fantasy bubble later. Just then, I had more pressing matters to attend to.

Once I walked in the room behind her, my mother spun on her heel and shoved me none too softly backwards. I pressed the door closed behind me with my back. Mom pressed one hand firmly against my abdomen, kissed me firmly, then dropped to her knees without ever moving her hand.

I stood back and let her do her job. She unbuttoned my pants and yanked them down with her free hand. She peered up at me through her unnaturally long and lush eyelids, licked her rosy lips, then devoured my cock.

She was not as expert as Bridget, I was disappointed to discover. By no means was she inept. But Bridget found the perfect balance between deep-throating and teasing my head, never lingering on one method of pleasure too long. I wasn't sure any woman could rival her. My mother's tongue-work was skilled, to be sure, but she was a bit too aggressive, never teasing me enough to built the blissful tension that Bridget so effortlessly created.

Perhaps that was why I had enough clarity of thought to feel a wave of crushing shame and guilt.

Or perhaps the guilt was already building before she started, and that was why I didn't feel like she was as amazing.

One way or the other, I was enraptured, frozen in ecstasy too pure to truly contemplate putting an end to it, but at the same time my stomach was turning as I thought about what was happening. She didn't look like my mother, but she sounded like her, at least while she was explaining how to make decorations. The woman on her knees in front of me, eagerly servicing me orally, may not have worn my mother's guise, but there was no mistake that it was my mother and no one else.

I loved it. And hated myself for loving it.

Which somehow only made it more exciting.

Having already blown two loads that day, it took a long time before I shot a stream of sperm down my mother's throat. I was almost surprised I even managed to muster up another ejaculation, but I wasn't complaining. In fact, it only meant I got to savor the blowjob longer.

I lifted my mother up by the shoulders and took charge the way she had earlier. I half-led and half-forced her over to the bed before gripping her shoulders firmly and spinning her around. I then slapped my hands over her hips rather firmly and used my thumbs to pressure her into bending over. All the while she gave little squeaks of approving surprise. Once I had her bent over, her arms stretched across the bed with a fistful of quilt clenched tight in each hand, and no sign of resistance anyway, I slowed down. I wanted to enjoy this, even though I knew we had to be quick.

My hands explored her thighs and her ass. Her body defied belief, so extreme were her curves. She wasn't as exaggerated as a cartoon, but about as close as I'd ever laid eyes on. Her big, round ass gave nicely beneath my kneading fingers. But she tensed her cheeks at one point, and I swear a walnut pressed between them would have cracked.

By this point, she was good and wet, and I could smell her sex wafting up between her legs. I wanted so badly to taste her, to kneel before her and gently part her petals with my fingers before licking her stamen until I tasted her nectar. But I couldn't forget the time constraints.

I also wanted to find out what it felt like to fuck her in the ass, despite having just realized she could easily break a walnut if she squeezed hard enough. It would have to be the tightest hole I'd ever been inside. But again, I'd ruined my opportunity to take her any way I wanted her.

A dark circle engulfed the better part of her panties, I discovered after tearing them away. I held her round hips like handles, lined myself up behind her, and pressed my helmet against her waiting lips. Slowly, I worked in the tip, then another inch or so. But the gradual approach died there. She was more than adequately lubricated. I thrust all the way to the hilt, eliciting a grunt from her.

A hundred images of all the different positions, styles, and speeds I would love to experience with my mother filled my head. Too bad there was no time.

I savaged her, pounding her pussy mercilessly. Her ass cheeks rippled against my thighs. Were it not for my firm grip on her hips, she would have collapsed onto the bed. But not because she didn't want it. She pressed back against me as best she could, more or less timed with my thrusts. But I wasn't going easy on her. I was overcome with lust, fueled in part by the guilt of knowing that my cock was reveling in the tight grip of the same canal through which I'd entered the world. I was also mesmerized watching her ass. Bridget might have my mother beat in the oral sex department, but I'd take this slab of ass over my cousin's trim and athletic form any day.

I felt thick, sticky liquid trickle slowly down my shaft and collect on the top of my sac. My mother was cumming, and quite a bit. I, on the other hand, was completely empty from earlier. I was too aroused to lose my erection, but I doubted sincerely that I would cum again. I just kept fucking my mother with reckless abandon. Eventually, I felt her walls pulsing, squeezing against my shaft like a vice. I decided that was as good a time as any to change positions.

Mom toppled forward on the bed. Sweat coated her neck. "Oh my. That was unbelievable, Paul. I can't remember the last time I had sex that good."

I climbed onto the bed beside her, leaned in and nibbled on her ear. "Well there's plenty more where that came form," I said. I rolled onto my back and held my glistening rod up proudly with one hand, beckoning her to impale herself atop of it.

"Mmm, I don't know, honey. I think you just wore me out. Besides, I think we're both going to need to shower before everyone gets home, and it's already getting late."

Just going to have to save the rest for later, I guess.