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a) Returning

Hello!

My name is Amber, and I am adding a little post-script to Andrew’s, my cousin, story.

I knew the story of course, but I wasn’t aware that he had written it down. It was his funeral last week, and I had sat down at his bureau to go through some paperwork, and rediscovered the hidden storage. So, I read his account, and thoughts; and decided to do this P.S.

With respect to his story – what I haven’t lived, I heard about from Aunt Rebecca, or Mum and Uncle Tony, or even Nan. Or so I thought. But there was much I didn’t know. ‘Much’, but just mostly subtle things, and mainly about the way Andrew saw things. And talking of that sort of thing: ‑ Nan must have lived in semi-confusion as we grew up. I mean there was one pair of children calling her ‘Mum’, and we other pair calling her ‘Aunty’; even though both pairs were (sort of) her grand-children.

*

Now! I suppose I should be honest with you all?

There’s been some big changes in our family.

One of the largest is that Ray and I got divorced. I know that I now stand before you (metaphorically, at least) in an apparent situation of double-standards; and indeed, appear to have lived such a life. I divorced him because of his infidelity. However, I have NEVER cheated on him – EVER. Not even with Jobey or the cousins!

He was shagging his secretary. And ‘No’ she was no blonde mini-skirted bimbo, but a ‘raven haired temptress’ (his words), and nearly as old as him.

And he was also shagging the manageress of the branch office for the Midland Region, behind his secretary’s back.

The two kids elected to live with Ray, of all things; because they felt that having affairs with two women, when he was married to me, was less objectionable than me having sex with my cousin (Tommy) when we were young and single. Just as well they didn’t know about the rest of it. At that time.

So, I moved out, and left my house and home to them.

And moved back in with Mum and Andrew.

Anyway, Mum and Andy were happy for me to move back in with them. I’ve always got on very well with Mum, as well as love her. For a mother, she has always been so understanding. Although, I must admit that often, she has this dubious sense of humour – as witnessed by her comments when Andy, Jobey and I got back from Nan’s, after outing them all. I’ve generally also got along well with Andy, despite his Dad complex; and the way he used to watch my legs, any chance he had of seeing them without trousers.

Oops! That sounds a little risqué, I know; but what I mean is – that he was nearly as fascinated by my legs as he was with Mum’s. He’d often said that her legs were the first things that attracted him to her. He was just old fashioned enough to love my legs while I wore skirts or dresses.

*

Sorry, but a little Note here: –

I have just sat and proof-read the above paragraphs that I wrote earlier today, and have realised that I have spoken of ‘Andy, my cousin’. This, I have realised is ridiculous, as the sections preceding mine, make it clear that ‘Andy’ is my Father. Having pondered on this, I decided that I will not change what I have already written, and to add this note, as an illustration to you about the way I have lived, concealing the details of my brother’s and my half-brother’s and half-sister’s origins. But from here-on-in, I will use ‘Dad’ – my wonderful Dad!

*

So! Amy and Tommy are still in happy marriages. Jobey is now widowed – cancer.

b) Anniversary Celebrations

And the reason I have lived these aforementioned ‘double-standards’?

I have slept with, and had sex with, both my Mum and Dad. And I don’t mean while drunk, but when I (we) were stone-cold sober!

Yes, that bald statement seems to present the situation in a harsh light, and brings up images of wanton debauchery.

But it never felt like that. It always seemed so relaxed, and warming and comforting. There was never an occasion that I slept with Mum and or Dad – that it ever felt wrong, or dirty in anyway. I was never coerced or blackmailed. I never coerced or blackmailed them into ‘lewd acts’.

I loved my Mum and Dad, and the sex was just another way of sharing that love. Mum has said that both she and Dad regarded it as exactly that – sharing their love, with me.

*

And this is how it started:

I had been staying with them for about six months, with nothing untoward happening. But my wedding anniversary was approaching, and I was feeling pretty mixed up about things.

I hoped to get out on the evening of the anniversary itself with some old school-friends and neighbours. I didn’t want to get the other three bursa escort embroiled in anything, so they never got an invite. But in the end, it became a non-event. Those that at first indicated they were interested, or at least willing to go, dropped to being four (besides me).

Then Allison Jones and Ruth Bibby (the ‘Furley Sisters’) dropped out because their kids had attended a birthday party, and virtually all the kids came down with some sort of food poisoning.

Then Gail had to cancel, as she pranged her car, and that made getting to Mum and Dad’s a no-go, despite Dad’s offer to collect her, and take her home the next day.

Bella was On-Call for backup Paramedic, and had to go in because the duty Paramedic got bogged down at a minor disaster, where quite a number of people sustained injuries. (But nothing to do with Gail’s prang.)

Then that left me.

Mum and Dad could see how disappointed and upset I was, so they volunteered to come with me.

They were wonderful. We got a table in a cosy Italian, and Dad treated me to what turned out to be a wonderful meal, and some rather above-average sparkling Italian wine.

Then we went on to do a pub crawl. They sat and endured my litany of grievances with Ray (again); and my bewailing my lot (again); my grief at the ‘desertion’ by the kids; etc. etc., which only became more vengeful and weepier by turns as I got pissed. Mum started to get a bit tiddly as well, so Dad (the designated driver) had to put up with both of us.

In the end, I vaguely remember Dad carrying me out of the last pub, with me being a good three sheets to the wind, with me whimpering because I was slung over his shoulder. I had to demand, later, that Mum tell me the whole story – as far as she could remember it. She was a bit non‑committal (but not reticent) on some aspects, because she was a bit – um – her memory was … a bit … vague[?] as to how things went.

Apparently, while I was being carried, I proceeded to curse Dad for looking up my skirt (though Mum said he didn’t); and begging Mum, as she tottered after us, to tell him off for looking up my skirt; and then me telling Dad how turned-on I got when good-looking men like him tried to look up my skirt (Mum said she agreed with me there. She gets turned-on when good looking men try to look up her skirt).

I was begging Mum, in a very loud whisper not to let Dad know that I wasn’t wearing underwear (Mum actually said that I had said ‘knickers’), and that my shaver was blunt so I had been unable to shave my pussy before we came out.

Mum said that Dad was very stoic.

They put me in the back of the car, but I kept trying to climb over the seats to get next to Dad because I was feeling lonely and wanted a snog. Mum got in the back with me, to try to keep me under control. Then it seemed I was so desperate for a snog, I started kissing Mum. She returned the kiss to try to keep my attention away from Dad. Mum said she got quite hot, because of that.

Then I must have passed out briefly. But when I surfaced again, I had lost something in excess of fifteen years, and thought I was in the car with cousin Amy (Mum said that that was what I had called her, anyway). I told her that I was feeling randy, and my pussy was all tingly, so I begged her to lick my pussy – again.

But ‘Amy’ didn’t seem to be in the mood (and Mum wasn’t, perhaps for obvious reasons), and tried to put me off, so I promised ‘Amy’ that I would do her first; and dived under her skirt. Though she tried to fend me off, I was still stronger than her, even in my drunken state. But even though ‘Amy’ was trying not to hurt me, I struggled to get her knickers off, (which was frustrating, because she didn’t usually wear knickers when we went out, because she found they got in the way of the action, and of course, the boys always got more excited when we allowed easy access). Anyway, once I actually got ‘Amy’s’ knickers off and her legs over my shoulders, I gave her another one of my specials. ‘Amy’ obviously hadn’t shaved her muff for a while, so it was a bit hairy, but she still got lovely and juicy.

‘Amy’ always so enjoyed them; especially when she had Tommy down her throat, and Jobey nudging her cervix from behind. She would really cum hard when I licked all over her pussy and Jobey’s balls and cock as he fucked her. (Mum said she thought I was very good at licking her pussy.)

Even after being together so many times, it always seemed, somehow, to be … so much more of a turn-on for each of us girls to have our brother fuck deeply into our throat as we looked at them.

‘Amy’ came hard this time too, even without the boys’ cocks in her.

Then, by the time Mum dropped bursa escort bayan off to sleep, I had returned to the present; so I took off the damned dress, and slid over to join my Dad for a good snog, and hopefully a shag, as I still hadn’t got my pussy licked yet.

In the end, he wouldn’t lick my pussy, or let me shag him, so I had to make do with giving him a blow-job.

Before I got finished though, Mum woke up and was moaning at me about blowing Dad while he was driving. But by then we were home, and Dad was helping me out of the car.

Once Dad got me out of the car, he tried to get my dress back on. But, as I said, the damned dresses only got in the way, so I struggled to get away from him, and I bumped into ‘Amy’ again, so I started snogging her again. She gasped into my mouth as I diddled her clitty while we kissed.

That’s when Dad proved how sneaky he can be. Because while I snogged Mum, Dad sneaked my dress on. Then he lifted me onto his shoulder again and … then it went dark.

We were all grateful, later, that it really was dark, and our drive is a little secluded, so no-one witnessed me staggering around, snogging and groping Mum while I was naked (apart from my glittery heels), as I tried to avoid Dad trying to slip my dress back on. He was never able explain why he did that, before then carrying me indoors, when he could have just carried me in with me still naked.

c) Togetherness

It was still dark when I woke up feeling pretty rough. I couldn’t tell whether I was still drunk, or just hung-over.

I lay on my back, and groaned a bit, and tried to rub some feeling back into my face.

That’s when I noticed that my right hand smelt of pussy. But … strange pussy? Stranger’s pussy. Not one I could remember smelling before, anyway. I licked my left hand, and wiped it around my mouth, then licked it. Oh god! My face and right hand were covered in dried pussy juice!

I touched my own pussy. It was wet on the inside, but crusty on the outside. Another couple of licks and wipes informed me that there seemed to be no taste of spunk or any other pussy juice, other than mine.

Then I heard it! Again! One of Mum’s deep, throbbing ‘Oh please keep on fucking me, I’m on the edge!’ groans. I’d been hearing those groans a number of times a night, a number of nights per week since I moved back. Jeez! Mum was STILL ‘hot’. Ten years older than Dad, and still multi-orgasmic.

I burst into tears. Why, oh why couldn’t I have got a piece of what they had? Together going on thirty-odd years and still in love and shagging that often. And not even married! Maybe because they weren’t married! While my shit of a husband was doing his shagging elsewhere.

I groaned. God, my fanny was tingling. I started double-handed fingering. Left to clit; right to G‑spot.

Mum groaned again. I orgasmed.

Mum choked and squeaked – she was cumming. So did I.

Mum gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.

I couldn’t.

I didn’t – I nearly screamed with frustration.

d) Daddy!

My thoughts shot back along the well-worn path to our first adult kiss. We cousins had just ‘outed’ Mum, Nan, and Dad: – Amy and I had kissed him, to show him we supported him, and to try to persuade him to not oppose our games.

But Dad’s kiss had gone straight to my pussy. I was already primed because of our plans, and preparations; and the snogging and touching-up we had done once we were all together for that first time together, and launching the plan. I was a little moist.

Dad’s kiss made me cream. I had my hardest orgasm after that, when we ‘cousins’ tried for maximum ‘perversion’, and created our first chain, as my cream lubricated Amy’s tongue as she shared my arousal, her brother’s cock in her pussy, and my brother’s cock down my throat; then Amy and I swapped ends – with Jobey in my pussy as I licked Amy as she deep throated Tommy.

*

Now… I couldn’t take being alone anymore. I needed my Mum and Dad!

*

Suddenly I find I’m standing next to their bed looking down at them.

They were both humming quietly as they sixty-nined.

“Mum! Dad! Please hold me, I feel so alone.” I sobbed.

There were muffled expletives as they wrenched themselves apart, and settled looking up at me, both gasping with surprise.

“Amber! You are naked!”

“Oh! Please, Mummy, I need cuddles.” And I started crying.

“Oh, my poor baby! Come to Mummy.”, and she held her arms out for me.

I whimpered in gratitude, and started crawling across Dad to get to Mummy. On the way across, I stopped to give Dad my best kiss of love and gratitude as I gave his rigid, and saliva escort bursa damp, cock a few appreciative strokes before I continued into my Mummy’s welcoming arms, and they both hugged me as I sobbed out my loneliness and grief. Then as they snuggled the bedding around us, I snuggled down, brought my Dad’s still stiff willy through my legs, and let it nestle against my pussy, as I dreamily stroked his helmet with one hand; and one of Mummy’s nipples with the other hand as I licked the other nipple. I groaned in deep satisfaction as Dad held my boobs, and I turned my head so that I could kiss my Dad over my shoulder.

“Thank you, Daddy! That feels really nice.” I whispered.

Then I shuffled around a bit, and got Dad’s cock to slide up into my pussy, snuggled his hands on my boobs, and snuggled Mum’s back against me as I squeezed her boobs, and sighed in contentment.

Then – warm, loved, comfortable, and snug – and not alone anymore, I drifted into sleep.

I orgasmed as my Dad’s cock erupted into my pussy as we woke. I squeezed Mummy in my convulsions and sucked too hard on her nipple, while ramming my knee too hard against her clit, causing her to cum as well.

Dad started to try to withdraw. But grabbing his balls and pulling him back into me let him know I wasn’t in the mood for anything other than his total love.

Once his rigidity returned, I persuaded him to continue to fuck me by pushing and pulling on his balls, I let go of him once I was sure he would continue. Then I started on Mummy. I started by licking her nipples, and lightly circling her clit with my fingers. Then I recognised the smell, and realised it was Mummy’s pussy juice that had covered my face and fingers.

Apart from just now when I was still asleep, I hadn’t been fucked for months. Not since I had learned of Ray’s sexual conquests.

And now it was happening! And my Dad not only had the right equipment for the job, he was also my Daddy. And my love soared as I made my Mummy squeak and groan out those ‘I’m nearly there – I’ll kill you if you stop’ groans, as I licked and stroked her.

My lonely months of hearing my mother’s pre-orgasmic groans; followed by her orgasmic groans; and then her post-orgasmic groans had got me fired up. My itchy pussy was getting a good scratching. I kept orgasming, and orgasming, in a way I have not done since our ‘Cousin’s Incest Club’ disbanded.

Mum and Dad showed me what I had been missing. I loved them. I stayed with them. I slept with them – between them. I shared their passions for each other – deep passions – that I had not previously been aware existed outside of acts of sexual lust. They had those passions, together. They didn’t need the sex for those – the sex couldn’t have existed without their Love – those passions.

*

But now Dad has gone.

Jobey has moved in with Mum and me. Mum says she’s past all that excitement, now that she doesn’t have Dad; her second, but in the end – I believe, her greatest love.

Since Dad died, Jobey and I have been able to return Mum’s love and the care she gave us. She joins Jobey and I in our bed, three or four times a month, when she is feeling particularly adrift. But she doesn’t join us for sex, just for loving contact. We usually fall asleep with Mum between us, with me spooned in front of her, with her holding my boobs, and Jobey spooned in behind her, holding her boobs. If he develops a hard-on, which seems to be becoming more frequent, he will tuck it between her legs, so that she can fall asleep with it pressed against her pussy. The days following those nights she seems invigorated; and manages to have greater energy than Jobey and I put together.

*

Jobey still remembers where my buttons are, and how to press them.

And I am now free to say it. I Love Jobey, with all my heart, and have done so, ever since I was thirteen. And the years between that love developing, and the consummation of our love with lust as we played with Tommy and Amy just served to deepen and set that love, and now we are together.

I see now that, for me, Ray was but a Seeker’s wish for normality. I can’t call it a mistake, exactly, because the kids have been wonderful, especially once they realised their devotion to Ray was unappreciated by him; and in the end – misplaced. And the wonderful thing is – that they are tolerant of the love that Jobey and I share. His kids don’t care either, so we are more than content.

And with Jobey, I now know how Mum felt once Dad got her pregnant – complete! And I have found that Jobey and I share passions, deep passions, and usually with a liberal dusting of good, old fashioned, lust!

*

Thank you for your perseverance. I hope that through this story of multi-generational incest, it is obvious that it is, in reality, only a Love Story, although quirkily fulfilled.

And, as the saying goes: –

Be good.

But if you can’t be good, be careful!

*

The End

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