Tag: incest

Days 26 - 27: October 11 - 12CHAPTER 1 (Friday, Oct. 11)Friday at school, Alan was impatient and distracted, as was par for the course lately. All he could think about was the prospect of Suzanne giving him another handjob later that afternoon. He didn't realize that she was planning something new, even though she'd dropped some not-very-subtle hints about it.Suzanne and Susan continued their ritual of talking about their dreams and recent sexual experiences while doing their morning workouts. Susan had handjobs and blowjobs on her mind to such a degree that it seemed like she could think of nothing else. Not surprisingly, that had been the main subject of her most recent dreams, which she detailed to Suzanne in more openly sexual terms than ever before.Suzanne responded by describing some dreams of her own in even more graphic language. They weren't actually dreams she'd had the night before, and some of it was just plain made up, but her main goal was conditioning Susan's mind, not

Days 24 - 25: October 9 - 10CHAPTER 1 (Wednesday, Oct. 9)The next day, everything seemed perfectly normal again for Alan. He masturbated twice before school, once while still in bed and the second time while in the shower. Both times, his thoughts were entirely focused on his sexy, buxom mother. After what had happened during the appointment with Susan and Akami, and then in the evening with just Susan, he knew he'd never view his mother the same way again.He still had a hard time believing that what had happened had really occurred. He decided, I give up! It's futile to try and stop myself from masturbating to thoughts of her. That was never easy to do before, but after yesterday? Forget it! That would be like trying to stop the sun from rising! Mom is just too hot, and too stacked! Hell, she's as hot as the sun itself!But he had another day of school to attend, so life necessarily had to return to normal. Then he had his usual day at home. except that Susan and Katherine dressed

Day 23: Tuesday, October 8CHAPTER 1Susan and Suzanne continued their usual morning workout tradition on Tuesday morning. However, Suzanne had added an exciting new component: before, after, or sometimes even during their exercise session, they would talk about their sexual dreams from the night before, as well as detail any arousing experiences during the previous day that the other might have missed.Susan was generally very honest in her accounts, although sometimes there were dreams or parts of dreams that she was just too embarrassed about to tell. And she also tried not to reveal just how much she was thinking about her son in a sexual way lately, or how passionate her feelings were. Still, very little got past Suzanne. Susan's heart was like an open book, and she was a terrible liar. If she tried to hide something, Suzanne usually was able to ask pointed questions and coax the true story out of her.Suzanne was less honest. She also explained her dreams, but only very selected

Days 17 - 22: October 2 - 7CHAPTER 1 (Wednesday, Oct. 2)Late at night, Susan found herself dreaming. In the dream, she was wearing the same French maid outfit that she'd worn after losing the bet with Suzanne. She was cleaning the dining room table when Alan came in, dressed in his usual T-shirt and shorts, and sat down next to her."Nice outfit," he said as he reached out with one hand and caressed her nearest butt cheek. Since in her dream Susan was wearing neither panties nor a bra, his fingers found nothing but firm yet somehow soft flesh there to explore. Within seconds, he had his fingers on her butt crack, sliding their way towards her anus.She whirled around and started to berate him angrily, "Alan Evan Plummer! Just what do you think..." But her voice died as she looked down and realized that he'd unzipped his fly and his erection was completely exposed.He said in a cocky tone, "Hey Mom, since you like to clean so much, try cleaning this!" He raised his hard-on, pointing it at

Days 2 - 16: September 17 - October 1CHAPTER 1 (Tuesday, Sept. 17 - Saturday, Sept. 21)Alan meanwhile found himself with the strange chore of having to masturbate six times a day, rain or shine. He set himself a schedule, and followed it for the next six days. He managed to keep his masturbation sessions completely private and no one said anything, to his great relief.His family was so shy about talking about such things that the additional discussion they should have had about his situation was put off until the next day, and then put off again, and again.It required Suzanne to be the initiator for this kind of thing, but she thought, I'll wait a few days, so the others can begin to get a sense of what six times a day really means. Then I'll be able to steer the talk and action better. The more time that goes by, the more receptive the others will be to my naughty ideas.During this time, things in the Plummer house slowly started to change. It gradually dawned on everyone that Alan

Day 1: Monday, September 16CHAPTER 1: Prelude (Early September 2002)Suzanne Pestridge needed a man. But not just any man. She had her heart set on Alan Plummer, the son of Susan, her best friend and next-door neighbor. Alan had just turned eighteen. His mother still thought of him as a boy, but in fact he was already very emotionally mature for his age.Suzanne was unhappily married to a rich man named Eric. She'd married Eric near the end of her time in college, when the two of them had been very much in love. He had cheated on Suzanne many years ago and their marriage had never recovered. Now she was 39 and her marriage was completely loveless. However, they hadn't divorced because they didn't want their two children to live in a broken home.With Eric's domestic life in disarray, he focused his energies on making money. He spent more and more time at work and less and less time with his wife until they practically became strangers.Suzanne couldn't live without sex because she was a

Friends, I am Sushma, a married woman, and I am 37 years old. I live in Surat with my husband. In our family, there is my 10-year-old son, my father-in-law, and the two of us. My husband, Prakash, is about 40 years old, and my father-in-law must be around 62. My husband has developed a strong habit of drinking alcohol. He didn't drink before, but due to bad company, he started drinking heavily.About 12 years ago, when I got married and came to my husband's house, I was very happy, and my husband always kept me happy too. My mother-in-law and father-in-law also took great care of me; they always treated me like their own daughter. My husband and I had a very good sex life. I love getting fucked, and my husband used to fuck me every day. He had good stamina too. But now, because of alcohol, he can't perform at all. He cums in just two minutes. His cock doesn't even get properly hard anymore. Alcohol has destroyed his potency. But my sexual desire has only increased. Now that I'm older

The lateness of the hour had ceased to be a measurement of time; it had become a palpable pressure in the room, a velvet density that pressed upon my skin and pooled, hot and insistent, between my thighs. Every second was a tiny, exquisite agony. My pussy was no longer just a part of me; it was a separate, throbbing consciousness, a silent, weeping mouth that craved only one thing: Babuji’s cock. The emptiness inside me was a hollow of such acute wanting it felt like a physical wound. I was dying to be filled, to be pierced, to be fucked into something whole.The words tore from me, ragged and stripped of all pretense. “Babuji! Your cock is wet now. Please don’t delay and put it inside me quickly.”He heard the raw need in my voice, the tremor that was not of fear but of desperation. His eyes, dark and knowing, softened with understanding. His daughter-in-law was ready. Not just willing, but unraveling.“Sushma,” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in my own chest.

The drive home was a silent, winding path through a tunnel of deepening shadows. By the time the gates creaked shut behind us, the world had been swallowed by a velvety, complete darkness, a darkness that seemed to seep into the car, into our clothes, into the spaces between our words. My son, bless him, was a drowsy weight against my side, his long lashes casting delicate fans on his cheeks. The innocence of his sleep felt like an accusation. We dispersed to our rooms, a silent ballet of guilt and fatigue. I could not meet Babuji’s eyes. I felt his gaze upon me, a physical pressure on the nape of my neck, a brand. I kept my own eyes downcast, fixed on the cool marble floor, fleeing up the stairs like a creature seeking its burrow. I felt, rather than saw, the flicker of disappointment that crossed his face—a sagging of the shoulders, a quiet exhalation—but I did not, I could not, acknowledge it. My body was a traitor. Between my legs, a furnace roared. The memory of his touch

The next afternoon, my husband called. The sound of his voice through the receiver, tinny and familiar, sent a jolt through me—a complicated, tangled wire of emotions. He was coming home on the evening train, he said. He’d reach around eight.A wave of relief, sharp and immediate, washed over me first. My husband would be home after many days. The empty space beside me in our bed would be filled. And I’d get to have sex today. The thought was a physical pulse, a deep, aching need that had been building for weeks, coiling tighter with each passing night. It had been quite a while. My desire was a live thing, restless and hungry. My body felt tuned to a frequency of absence, and now, finally, there was a promise of release.But that promise felt… amplified, distorted. My father-in-law’s behavior, the charged glances, the accidental touches that lingered—it had all stoked a fire in me I’d forgotten could burn so hot. It wasn't just about sex anymore; it was a specific,