Hey readers, thanks for stopping by. In my writing, sometimes I like to dive headfirst into a scene, with no preamble, no backstory, nothing. This is a small collection of said scenes. I'll give a list of tags before each scene so you can skip it if you think it'll be triggering/unenjoyable for you.
This is the fourth in this series, and for the theme I've decided to stick myself fully in the taboo with incest once again! I've got four shorts this time, with the final one being substantially longer, and substantially more hardcore than the previous ones.
Like always, if any of these stories particularly piques your interest, please let me know in the comments. I may build it into a full story.
***
Mommy issues:
Incest, mother and son, older woman,
***
"Don't moan."
Too late.
It slipped out--low, involuntary, uncontrollable. The kind of sound you make when your mom's tongue traces a line up the underside of your cock. Maybe that's not relatable.
She paused. Smirked.
"You moaned." She purred, the same tone she'd use when I didn't put my laundry away like she'd asked me to.
"I didn't mean to," I croaked, fists tangled in her sheets.
Every breath I took was her--coconut shampoo, expensive perfume, god, everything that made her my mom.
"You better keep it down," she warned, fingers curling around my base. "Your dad's next door in his home office, and I don't think you want to explain why it sounds like you're having sex in his room."
"God no."
She giggled, then sucked the head of my cock into her mouth with a slurp so loud it echoed.
My legs spasmed. My soul left my body and filed a pleasure complaint.
Fuck, she was good at this. Scary good. Like she'd majored in cock worship and graduated summa cum laude.
"You know, I married your stepfather for his money," she whispered, tongue flicking over the tip. "I certainly didn't need his cock."
That should've horrified me. That should've sent me running for a therapist and maybe a lawyer.
Instead? I grabbed her hair and gently pulled. She moaned.
"Sick little fuck," she breathed, eyes glittering. "You love that your mom is on her knees for you."
I didn't deny it. Because she was right.
She climbed up, straddling me--black lace panties shoved to the side, tits practically bursting out of her silk robe--and stared down like she was about to conquer a new country.
"You want Mommy's pussy?"
Oh my
fucking
god.
"I--"
She gripped my pulsing cock, guided it to her soaked entrance and sank down with a sigh so obscene it should've come with a warning label.
"Say it," she panted, grinding slow. "Say 'Mommy, please use me.'"
"Mommy, please... fuck, please use me--"
"Good boy."
She rode me like she was trying to break the bed.
The worst part?
My stepdad
was
next door. I could hear the faint clicking of his keyboard. His stupid little podcast on finance. He had no idea his wife was currently bouncing on my cock like a pornstar on a pogo stick.
That was the final nail.
I bucked up into her, desperate, sweat-slick, already too close.
"Not yet," she growled. "You do
not
get to cum until I say."
I whimpered. Actually fucking whimpered.
She leaned in, lips brushing my ear. "Now be a good son and make me squirt on my your cock before your daddy finishes his meeting."
White. Hot. Nuclear. Explosion.
And she just
smirked.
***
Siblings who cum together stay together
Siblings, younger woman, virgin, cunnilingus, large cock, incest,
***
It started with a bad dream.
At least, that's what I told myself when I padded down the hallway in my tiny sleep shorts and an oversized tee that did nothing to hide the fact I wasn't wearing a bra. My nipples could've cut glass. Not that I was trying to wake him up looking like that.
(Okay. Maybe I was.)
I hovered outside my brother's door for a full thirty seconds like a little creep before I knocked.
It took a second, but finally I heard his voice.
"Come in," he muttered, voice low and groggy.
I peeked in. He was shirtless, sheets bunched around his waist, one arm flung behind his head. His chest rose and fell slow and steady, carved by sports.
"What?" he asked groggily, blinking up at me.
"I... had a nightmare," I said softly, stepping in and hugging my arms around myself.
He frowned, retaining a hint of the typical sibling annoyance.
"Wanna stay in here?"
I nodded. Of course I nodded. Like that wasn't the whole damn plan.
He lifted the blanket and scooted over. I crawled in like a good girl. My leg brushed his. He was warm. So warm. And when I got comfortable beside him, the heat between us made it impossible to ignore the obvious.
We were a lot older and larger than we'd been years ago when we used to have 'sleepovers'. We didn't exactly fit on his bed now.
I felt him shift. Felt the tension in his muscles like a livewire between us.
"You're trembling," he whispered, brushing my arm.
"Scared," I lied. God, I was a liar. I was a liar and a sinner and seconds from doing something I might regret or dream about for the rest of my life.
He turned onto his side to face me. "Want... You want me to hold you?"
Yes. God, yes. I didn't answer. Just scooted in, tucked my head under his chin like a good little pervert. His arm came around me. Protective. Strong. But that wasn't what made me inhale sharp.
It was the very obvious, very hard bulge now growing against my stomach.
He froze.
"I didn't mean--" he started, voice strangled.
I tilted my head up to look at him. "It's okay."
He blinked. "What?"
I licked my lips. Deliberately. "I said it's okay."
And then I did something that should've gotten me banned from the family forever--I pressed my hand against the bulge. Palmed it gently through his boxers. And holy hell, he was
thick
.
"Jesus Christ," he hissed, hips twitching. "What are you doing?"
"Shh," I whispered, slipping my hand inside. Skin to skin. Hot and heavy and leaking with precum already. "Let me touch it. I just wanna see if it's as big as I remember."
His jaw clenched. "When the fuck have you touched it before?"
I met his eyes. "I've dreamed about it."
"You're my little sister," he whispered, like he needed a reminder.
I bit my lip. "And you're the reason I can't keep my vibrator charged."
That broke something behind his eyes--but it wasn't lust, not yet. It was
conflict.
A full-on civil war between his brain and the cock pulsing against my hand.
"Fuck," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "You can't say shit like that. You
shouldn't
say shit like that."
"And yet..." I trailed off, curling my fingers around him again, just enough to make his breath catch. "Here we are."
He let out a laugh--sharp, humorless, desperate. "Jesus, this is so wrong."
"Feels pretty right to me," I murmured, and shifted my hips just enough to press our bodies closer together.
He groaned--quiet, like it slipped out before he could stop it.
But he didn't move. Not away. Not closer. Just stared at me like I was holding a gun to his head.
"You've been... thinking about me?" he asked finally, voice raw.
I nodded, honest and unashamed. "Too much. For too long."
"That's not..." He looked up at the ceiling like it held answers. "That's not supposed to happen."
I moved in closer, so our noses brushed. So I could taste the panic and arousal bleeding off him in equal measure.
"You didn't know?" I whispered. "How I never let my eyes off you when you're shirtless at the beach? Always tell you how hot you look in your silly little uniform?"
His mouth opened--then closed again.
"I mean Jesus, didn't walking in on you showering so many times give you a clue?"
He swallowed. His throat bobbed. His cock twitched.
"I love you." I purred, staring up into his frantic eyes. "And not like a sister should."
He still didn't kiss me.
But he
did
touch me. A hand on my hip. Light. Shaking.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered. "Please. Because if you don't..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
I tilted my head. Whispered against his mouth, "I won't."
He let out a strained grunt and kissed me--finally. Like he'd been holding his breath for years and I was the air he was supposed to breathe.
Our mouths crashed together, all lips and tongue and years of denial going up in flames. His lips were soft, but his grip wasn't--he held me like he thought I might disappear. Like if he didn't anchor me to his body, he'd wake up and find this was just some depraved dream his cock had cooked up at 3am.
But I was real.
And I was grinding against him now, panting into his mouth, my slick pussy rubbing over the hard, hot length of him through both our underwear.
"Oh fuck," he gasped, breaking the kiss to press his forehead to mine. "You're soaked."
"You did that," I breathed, cupping his face. "You've been doing that to me for
years
."
He groaned like I'd stabbed him. "You don't know what you're saying."
"I do," I whispered. "And I'm saying I want you to take your sister's virgin pussy and make it yours."
That shattered whatever was left of his moral compass.
His hands were on me in an instant--skimming under my shirt, palming my tits like they were his and always had been. His thumbs brushed over my nipples and I
arched,
mouth falling open in a silent moan.
"Goddamn," he muttered, kissing down my neck. "You're perfect. You're fucking perfect."
He yanked my panties down, didn't even bother trying to be gentle. They were soaked anyway--might as well throw them in the fire.
"Open your legs for me," he growled.
I did. Wide. Willing. Wet.
And when he slid down between them and
licked
me--tongue flat and slow, from clit to slit--I nearly blacked out.
I grabbed his hair and
pulled
, gasping his name like a prayer.
"Shhh," he murmured, flicking my clit with the tip of his tongue. "You're gonna wake the whole house."
"I
want
to wake them," I whimpered, thighs trembling. "I want them to know how good my brother eats pussy."
He groaned against me--vibrations hitting just right--and in record time, I
came
.
Hard. Like a full-body shudder that left me breathless and messy and boneless on the sheets.
He didn't stop.
He
kept going
, licking me through the aftershocks, sucking on my clit like it was a lollipop with his name on it. Only when I was twitching and begging him to slow down did he finally lift his head.
