Emma lay awake in bed and heard the whirring of the garage door. It must be Dad heading to the gym. She got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She quickly released her bladder and wiped her pussy. She brushed her teeth and headed to John’s room. Wearing only a pair of simple, pale blue cotton panties and not bothering with a bra, her nipples were already hard. She wanted to surprise John with a morning blowjob.
Emma pushed open the door to the connecting bathroom. She stopped dead as she heard John’s teasing voice.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
John was wide awake, propped up against the headboard, with the sheet pulled to the foot of the bed. One arm was cocked behind his head, the other wrapped tight around his cock. He stroked himself lazily, the head of his cock slick and shining with precum.
Emma paused, a slow, surprised smile spreading across her face. “Someone’s eager this morning.”
Emma’s carefully planned ambush was ruined, but the reality was so much better. She closed the distance between them. She crawled onto the bed and straddled his thighs. The thin cotton of her panties was the only barrier between them—a mere suggestion at this point.
“So, big brother, what has you so hard this morning?” She whispered, her hands tracing the lines of his cock.
John grinned back. “Woke up like this,” he said, still stroking himself. “Couldn’t stop picturing Mom.” Emma pushed her pussy against his cock.
He groaned, his hips bucking slightly. “You know I can’t stop thinking about it,” he admitted, his voice thick with desire. “About us. About Abby. About Mom.”
“Tell me,” she said, replacing his hand with hers with a sense of familiarity. She gave one slow stroke, watching his cock lurch. “Tell me exactly what you were thinking about while you jerked off to Mommy.”
“I picture her naked, sucking my cock, fucking me.” He breathed, his hands coming up to grip her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. “She’s so hot.”
“Yes, she is. I want her too,” she confessed. She rocked her hips, grinding her panty-clad pussy against his hard cock, creating a delicious, maddening friction. “We need to be strong today,” she murmured against his skin, kissing a path down his body. “For Mom.”
“Mom,” he repeated, the word a prayer and a curse on his lips. “Emma, are you sure about this? What we’re planning…”
She looked up at him, her eyes soft with love. “She’s already halfway there, John. Don’t you see? She fucks Aunt Mandy – her own sister. She fucks Uncle Bob. The only line she hasn’t crossed is with us.” She gave a tug at his cock. “We’re not corrupting her. We’re just joining her family’s love lifestyle. Trust me.”
She allowed him no time to think as she lowered her head and took him into her mouth, not with teasing licks, but with a deep, possessive suction. Emma felt him at the back of her throat in one go, her lips stretching around his girth, her nose burying at his base.
“Fuck!” John cried out, his back arching off the bed. His hands flew from her hips to her hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he held her in place. “Emma… god, your mouth…”
She loved this. She loved sucking her brother. Thinking that this is her brother’s cock gave her such a taboo thrill, despite having sucked and fucked him several times now. The slight stretch in her asshole served as a reminder. She began to move, her head bobbing in a steady, squelchy rhythm with a wet slurping sound. Her saliva was coating his cock, and she wasn’t just sucking his cock—she was worshiping it.
She pulled back until just the head was between her lips, her tongue flicking out to lap at the sensitive slit. “Maybe she thinks about it,” Emma whispered, her voice husky as she stroked his slick shaft with her hand. “Once she has a taste of this wonderful cock, I’m sure she’ll be hooked.”
John let out a groan, his hips thrusting up, fucking himself into her fist. “At dinner. When I was helping her with the dishes… I brushed against her. I know she felt it.”
“Really?” Emma asked, a triumphant smirk on her lips. “She’s ready, John. She just needs a little help. A little incestuous nudge from her loving children. Like Dad needed when I sucked him.” She dove back down, taking him deep again as the wet, sucking sounds filled the room.
She wanted more. She released his cock with a wet pop and shifted her position, swinging her leg over his chest until she was straddling his face, her panty-clad pussy hovering just above his mouth. “Your turn,” she said, her voice full of need.
John didn’t need to be told twice. He hooked his fingers into the damp fabric of her panties and pulled them down hurriedly. He was hungry, and his favorite meal was inches from his mouth. He grabbed her ass, pulling her down onto his face, and his tongue was inside her in an instant.
Emma cried out, a sharp, lustful sound of pure pleasure. His tongue was magic. It was long and strong and knew exactly how to please her. He lapped at her folds, drinking the wetness that had been gathering since she first stepped in. He found her clit, already swollen and throbbing, and he sucked it into his mouth, flicking it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh, fuck, John… yes,” she moaned, her body rocking against his face. She leaned forward, bracing herself on his thighs with one hand, and took his cock back into her mouth. They were a perfect, incestuous circle of lust as they sixty-nined each other.
She released his cock from her mouth, stroking him furiously with one hand while the other braced against his thigh. “She’s going to be so wet for us, John,” she panted, groaning as John’s tongue continued to work his magic in her cunt. “Can you imagine it? Mom’s pussy. I bet it tastes sweet.” She ground her hips down harder against his face, smearing her wetness across his chin. “We’re going to make her ours, John. We’re going to make her a mother who fucks her son and licks her daughter’s pussy.”
The depraved declaration of incest was all it took. John groaned into her cunt, the vibration sending her over the edge as her orgasm crashed through her. Her entire body went rigid, a silent scream catching in her throat as waves of intense, shuddering pleasure washed over her. Her pussy clenched and pulsed around John’s tongue, flooding his mouth with her cum. She collapsed forward, her forehead resting against his stomach, her body trembling with the aftershocks.
John gave her one last, long, loving lick, cleaning up every drop, before gently lifting her off his face. He laid her down on the bed beside him and looked at her, his face glistening with her remains, his eyes burning with a mixture of pride and raw, unsated need.
“You are so naughty, Ems,” he said smilingly as he saw his sister recover from her orgasm. His cock was still rock-hard. “And look how you left me.”
Emma’s lips curled into a lazy, satisfied smile. “Then do something about it, big brother,” she challenged, her voice still husky from her orgasm.
He didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he was on top of her, his knees forcing her legs apart. He lined his cock up with her moist pussy, not pushing in, just letting the head rest there, teasing her.
“Tell me again,” he demanded, his voice low and intense. He stared down into her eyes, his gaze pinning her in place. “Tell me how much you want this.”
“Yes, I want this. Fuck me, John,” Emma whispered, reaching up to cup his face, her thumb stroking his cheek. “And you will fuck mom too.” She hooked her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Mom is already a slut for her family. Let’s make her our slut.”
John couldn’t resist anymore. With a groan, he drove into her, burying his cock in her wet pussy. Emma cried out, a sharp, ecstatic sound of pain and pleasure. He started fucking her with hard thrusts. He gazed into Emma’s face, seeing a younger image of his mother. This wasn’t the sweet, loving fuck from last night. It was a fuck for strength. A fuck for courage.
“Yessss!” Emma hissed. “Fuck me, John! Fuck me like you’re going to fuck Mom! Show me how you’ll do her!”
“She’s going to feel this,” he grunted, now playing along with Emma—and now determined to fuck his mother. “She’s going to feel me just like this. And she’s going to beg for it.”
“Yes!” Emma sobbed, tears of pure bliss leaking from the corners of her eyes. “She’ll beg! She’ll be our little incest whore!”
Their words were as filthy and depraved as their actions. Emma could feel another orgasm building. John could feel it too. He could feel her pussy starting to flutter and clench around him, a sign that she was close. He reached down between their bodies and found her clit with his thumb, rubbing it in tight, hard circles.
The added stimulation was her undoing. Emma came again. The feel of her cumming so hard around him was too much for John to bear as he exploded inside her. His cock pulsed—thick, hot jets of his cum flooded her womb.
They lay there for a long time, a tangled, sweaty heap of limbs, their chests heaving as they struggled to catch their breath. Finally, John stirred, rolling off her and onto his side. He propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at her. Her body was flushed, her hair was a wild mess on the pillow, and a lazy, blissful smile was on her face. She looked beautiful. She looked well-fucked. She looked ready for more.
He leaned down and kissed her, a slow, deep kiss that affirmed his love for her. “I’m ready,” he whispered against her lips. Emma’s smile widened. She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Good,” she said. “Because Mom’s waiting.”
They laughed and got up to shower before going down to breakfast. Where their mother was having her morning coffee, not knowing what was to come.
—————————————————————
John and Emma came downstairs together, excited and nervous at the same time. Jenny was in the living room, curled on the far end of the plush L-shaped couch, a mug of coffee cradled in her hands. Her legs were stretched out, feet bare, crossed at the ankles on the ottoman. She wore a simple, soft grey V-neck sweater and a pair of black yoga pants that hugged the gentle curve of her hips. On the TV, a morning show host was laughing about something, but the sound was just background noise. She looked so normal, so beautiful, so touchingly maternal.
“Morning, Mom,” Emma said, her voice light and cheerful. She padded over to the couch, leaning down to kiss Jenny’s cheek.
“Morning, sweetheart,” Jenny replied, her smile warm. She glanced at John, who was following Emma. “John. How come you up so early? There’s fresh coffee if you want some.”
“Just woke up. I’m good,” he said, his voice even. He moved to the armchair adjacent to the couch, but Emma caught his eye and gave a subtle, almost imperceptible nod towards the space behind her.
This was it. The point of no return.
John understood instantly. He changed direction, walking behind the couch instead of to the chair. He stopped directly behind Emma. Jenny’s eyes followed him with a flicker of confusion.
John’s hands came to rest on Emma’s waist. He leaned in, his chin hooking over her shoulder, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the side of her neck. Emma sighed, a sound of pure contentment, and tilted her head to give him better access. His hands slid up slowly and deliberately until they were cupping her breasts through her thin t-shirt. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, which hardened instantly at the contact.
Jenny’s coffee mug froze halfway to her lips. Her eyes went wide, a storm of shock and disbelief swirling in them. “What the hell are you doing?” she finally managed to whisper, her voice shaking.
John didn’t stop. He kept his eyes on his mother as he nuzzled Emma’s neck. “Loving my sister,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm.
Emma turned her head to look at her mother, a slow, knowing smile playing on her lips. She reached up and placed her hand over John’s, pressing it more firmly against her breast. “Like you love your sister,” Emma said, her voice just as soft, just as calm. “Don’t you, Mom?”
Jenny’s face drained of color. One look at their faces and reality hit her. They knew. Oh god, they knew. But how?
“I… I don’t…” she stammered, her eyes darting from John to Emma and unfailingly landing on John’s hands on Emma’s breasts.
“Yes, you do, Mom,” Emma said, her voice losing its teasing edge and becoming something gentler, more coaxing. She pulled away from John and moved to the couch, sitting close beside her mother. She took the now-trembling coffee mug from Jenny’s hands and set it on the coaster. “It’s okay. We’re not judging you. We could never.”
John rounded the couch and sat on Jenny’s other side. He didn’t touch her, not yet, just letting his presence be a warm, solid weight. “We saw you, Mom,” he said, his voice quiet, stripped of any accusation. It was just a statement of fact. “Me and Emma. We came home early from the party.”
Jenny flinched as if struck. The shame was a physical blow, hot and suffocating. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears welling behind her eyelids. “Oh god,” she breathed. “Oh, god, no.”
“We didn’t mean to,” Emma added quickly, her hand coming to rest on Jenny’s thigh, a comforting, innocent touch. “We were just as shocked as you are right now. But… we watched. And we saw how much you loved it. How much you all loved each other.” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It was the most beautiful, most exciting thing I’d ever seen.”
Jenny shook her head, a denial of everything, of what they’d seen, of what she was feeling, of the warmth beginning to spread from Emma’s hand on her leg. “It’s not… It’s not what you think. It was just… a thing. A game adults play.”
“Was it a game when you were kissing Aunt Mandy?” John asked, his voice closer now. He shifted, and Jenny could feel the heat from his arm, just an inch from her own. “Was it a game when she was touching you? Because it didn’t look like a game, Mom. It looked like love.”
Emma weighed in, “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. We’re your family. We love you.” She looked from her mother’s face to John’s, a silent, perfect understanding passing between them. “We love each other, too.”
And then John leaned in. He didn’t go for her lips. He went for the small mole just above her cleavage, the same one he’d been staring at for days. He pressed his lips there, a soft, worshipful kiss. Jenny gasped, her entire body tensing. It wasn’t a sexual kiss, not really. But it was close.
“John… we can’t,” she whispered, but her protest was weak, breathless.
“Why not?” he asked, lifting his head. “You and Aunt Mandy can. You and Uncle Bob can. Dad and Aunt Mandy can. Why can’t we?”
Emma’s hand began to move, stroking her mother’s thigh through the soft yoga pants. “We just want to be close to you, Mom. Like you are with them.” Her fingers traced the seam of the pants, higher and higher, a slow, gradual ascent. “We want to make you feel good.”
Jenny’s mind was a battlefield. The part of her that was a mother, that had spent eighteen years protecting them, nurturing them, teaching them right from wrong, was screaming at her to stop this, to push them away, to run. But the part of her that was the woman from the living room, the woman who craved the forbidden, the woman who had felt the exquisite thrill of her sister’s tongue, was listening. And it was curious. No, not just curious. It was… aroused.
She could feel John’s breath on her neck now and could feel Emma’s fingers creeping dangerously close to the apex of her thighs. She was trapped, not just by their bodies, but by her own desire.
“Emma… John… please,” she begged, not knowing what she was begging for.
“Please what, Mom?” Emma whispered. Her fingers had reached their destination. She pressed gently against the fabric, right over Jenny’s clit, which was already beginning to throb with a traitorous, insistent pulse. “Please stop? Or please don’t stop?”
Jenny couldn’t answer. A choked sob escaped her lips. It was an admission of defeat. Of surrender.
Emma took it as consent. She leaned in and, for the first time, kissed her mother on the lips. It was a soft, tentative kiss, a question. Jenny’s lips were stiff and unyielding, but then they softened and parted slightly. Emma’s tongue slipped inside quickly, probing, dueling with her mother’s tongue. It was sweet, like her coffee, with a hint of something else, something uniquely Jenny.
At the same time, John’s hand found her breast, and his fingers went to her nipples. It hardened instantly, sending a jolt of pure electricity straight to her core. She moaned into Emma’s mouth, a sound of helpless pleasure.
The dam had broken.
Jenny’s hands, which had been limp in her lap, came up to tangle in Emma’s hair, pulling her closer. She was kissing her daughter back now, with a possessive, incestuous hunger.
Emma broke the kiss, her lips hovering just inches from Jenny’s. “You’re so beautiful, Mom.” She looked down at her own hand, still pressed between her mother’s legs. “And I can feel how much you want this. You’re soaking through your pants.”
A fresh wave of blush crept up Jenny’s neck, but…
