Description: A teenage boy's normal struggles growing up with his twin sister, a stepmother, and stepsister are complicated by his porn brain and pantie fetish, or at least that's what he thinks. There might be more to the story. Too bad his best friend's moral compass is broken. NOTE: The whole story has been meticulously reviewed, rewritten, and grammar-checked.
Tags: Teenagers, Coercion, Consensual, Romantic, BiSexual, Heterosexual, Fiction, School, Incest, Group Sex
Published: 2018-08-20
Size: ≈ 76,057 Words
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by EroticScribbler{/c}
©Copyright 2018 by EroticScribbler{/c}
Mary Barnes stood under the arch that separated the hallway from the kitchen, wondering if it was her thoughts causing the feelings or her body making her think such things. The part of her brain that was still under the medication's restraint screamed, starve those desires. It's better to die of starvation than taste the forbidden fruit. But time and lots of water had washed most of the pharmaceuticals out of her, and Mary’s carnal needs had become a hungry beast.
Becky sat at the table, and Mary moved toward her. Becky had the same chestnut hair as Elizabeth and took it upon herself as a young girl to put it in those enticing pigtails Elizabeth had worn. Mary had discouraged it many times, but that only made Becky more persistent. Mary figured it was part of what her parents said, "God will punish you." That explained why she had a daughter who reminded her of the unforgivable sin she committed over and over again with Elizabeth, Mary’s first and only true love.
How ironic, Mary thought. Her parents used biblical nails and shame to build the box they locked her in, and she escaped only to marry a more hypocritical version of her father. Then, while telling her shrink every ungodly thought she had, Mary used the pills he gave her and rebukes from her husband to construct her own prison.
Years after her daddy issues husband ran off to California, Mary still wore the self-imposed chains. Every time her son's manly bulge caught her eye, or Becky wore shirts that demanded a bra, displaying a mirror image of Elizabeth's obscenely erect nipples, or she got ensnared by one of her daughter's enticing traps set for Jason, Mary killed her feelings with another pill and fortified the walls that held her in.
Without a husband to criticize her body or accuse her of being a whore when she tried to fulfill her sexual needs or the medication to kill the real Mary, a beautiful new world had emerged. It was bursting at the seams with erotic imagery, arousing smells, sensual touches, and pleasures that rivaled the first-time experiences from her youth. It was as if Mary had been granted a second chance at life. If it had been an overnight change, Mary would have been overwhelmed and terrified and run back to the bland, dull life on medication. But it hadn't happened all at once. Day by day, her mind returned, and for the first time in years, Mary masturbated. It took several tries before the pleasure came without the guilt and even more before she allowed herself to fantasize. Eventually, Mary was free enough to let her son's best friend join her in the land of pretend. She expected a bolt of lightning the morning she had the audacity to finger herself in the hallway outside Becky's room while Evan fucked her daughter. When the boy looked at her in the kitchen on his way out, Mary swore she would go back on the pills and see the psychologist before something crazy happened. Instead, Mary convinced herself she could draw the line between fantasy and reality. She had enough self-control to handle anything, but something went wrong.
Her daughter, Becky, thought and acted like young Mary had and looked like Elizabeth, the girl who had always been able to make Mary forget the things she swore she'd never do again.
The previous night, when Becky came to Mary’s bedroom, climbed into bed, and kissed her on the mouth, her daughter's lips unhinged Mary from reality. Time rolled back, and Mary was in the hayloft, reliving the last time she had been with Elizabeth. It had been a beautiful, passionate love-making session twenty years ago.
Now, Mary had to live under the same roof with Becky, a girl she loved with an unbreakable maternal bond. How could she want her daughter in every other ungodly way imaginable? God had opened the floodgates of his wrath just like her father, the preacher, said the day he told Mary she could never see Elizabeth again.
Mary collected the hair hanging over the back of the chair. Becky tilted her head back and asked, "Are you mad at me?"
She weaved the chestnut strands into a sloppy braid. Becky turned and rose to her feet. Mary looked her daughter in the eyes, wondering when Becky got so tall.
"Mom," Becky said and slipped her arms around Mary's waist, "I love you."
"I know, honey, and I love you." She held Becky's face.
Becky grabbed Mary’s wrist and kissed her hand. "I don't mind if you call me Elizabeth."
"Why would you say that?"
"You kept saying it last night," Becky said. "I kinda liked it." She pressed her lips to Mary's palm.
"Your father wouldn't let me name you Elizabeth," Mary said and kissed Becky's brows. "That's probably a good thing."
Becky giggled.
Mary grabbed her daughter's hand and led her down the hall to the bedroom. "It'll be our secret."
Becky smirked. "Yeah, one of our secrets."
Deana awoke disoriented in the late afternoon, thinking it was the morning after a full night of sleep. She looked around and saw it was her brother's bedroom. Evan was sleeping beside her. She weaved a few scraps of hazy memory together, and the pieces of the mental puzzle fell into place.
The previous night, after fucking on the couch while talking to their mother, they went to bed in her room and got up that morning, boasting of the most peaceful night of sleep either could remember. In the kitchen, they talked about what happened the previous afternoon in the shower. Evan told Deana he knew she secretly listened outside the bathroom door, knowing he was jerking off while thinking about her. Deana did admit that she had wanted Evan back then, but she didn’t mention having the same vision or whatever it was that had passed between them.
They went to Gloria's bed, and Evan made love to Deana like never before. She had more orgasms than could have been counted. Then, the same way it happened in the shower, their thoughts, memories, and emotions became one shared experience. They fell asleep and didn't wake up until-Shit, Deana thought, that hadn't been a dream. Cindy had been there, and Deana lied to Evan, then took him upstairs to cuddle so he couldn't call Cindy. Her brother would have asked too many questions, so it was better if he didn't know their cousin had come into the house.
Deana carefully slipped out of Evan's bed and sat on the top step outside his door in the dimly lit stairwell. Her mind went back through what happened earlier. Cindy had been waiting for her to come out of the shower. Deana realized Cindy was holding the shorts and Victoria’s Secret bag she and Evan abandoned yesterday on the porch. It was clear evidence of their nefarious behavior, but Cindy pushed that concern aside with a casual warning to be more careful. Deana panicked, thinking her cousin saw Evan fucking her in Gloria's bed, but Cindy had set her at ease again. That was when Cindy kissed her. It must have been the same kind of kiss the nineteen-year-old racecar driver used to get Candy into the bathroom stall.
One touch from those warm, passionate lips and powerful tongue was all it took. Deana knew her towel had fallen, and for a second, it shocked her, but then it didn't matter. Cindy's eyes were drilling down into her soul, smashing through the proverbial closet door and ripping open the box labeled, "To the grave secret, never open." Deana felt exposed and vulnerable and tried to run and hide, but Cindy's powerful arms forced her to face the devastating fear of being found out. Sobs racked her body, and Deana tumbled into the darkness. Time stood still while each memory tore open old wounds. They festered with new pain. Hatred fueled Deana's rage, and she tried to flee again, but her cousin held on like the superhero Deana had always imagined Cindy to be.
Broken like a wild stallion, she went limp in Cindy's arms. Her cousin's eyes glistened with loving empathy, and the stranglehold became a compassionate embrace. Then, Cindy opened herself up, inviting Deana in. Time stopped again, and Deana saw all the pieces that made up the strong, witty, kick-boxing racecar driver. She would never see Cindy as the cousin she'd always been. The truth about their relationship had been revealed in that moment of intimacy. How the fuck would Deana ever look her father in the eyes again without a gun in her hand?
Still somewhat dazed and traumatized after reliving what happened with Cindy, Deana walked mindlessly into the kitchen, staring at the floor. Candy cleared her throat, and Deana jerked to a stop. Instinctively, she crossed an arm over her chest and placed a hand in front of her crotch, which now had a prickly five o'clock shadow. "Ah, Mom, oh, shoot, Mom, I didn't know you were home." Run was Deana's first thought, but Candy's expression held her.
"Does that make it okay to walk around like that?" Candy asked.
Deana didn't think her mother wanted an answer, so she waited. Candy’s steps were hesitant at first; she seemed nervous, then her stride increased. Her mother's nipples stiffened, and Deana followed the side-to-side swish of the brown rings under the stretched-thin fabric. She licked her lips, thinking about Cindy sucking on Candy's nipples. The thought excited her, so Deana looked away. Her mother's belly button was exposed, and below it, baby-blue yoga pants clung to the woman's crotch. Deana swallowed the lump in her throat as Candy stopped in front of her. Deana's arms fell, hanging at her sides. It was like the morning they kissed, except now, Deana knew it was Cindy that her mother was thinking about. Inside her head, Deana screamed, say something. "Mmm . . . Mom, you okay?"
"I'm fine," Candy said, placing her hands on Deana's waist. They were so soft, and their placement on Deana's naked body could only be interpreted as a sensual touch. "Dee, you're beautiful."
Leave, walk away, run, Deana told herself, but she stood there and said, "Thank you." This is so wrong.
Warm, smooth palms cupped the prominent nobs at the front of Deana's hips, and fingertips circled the sensitive hollows above her thighs. Under other circumstances, it might have tickled, but instead, hot lubricating moisture loosened her tingling labia. She wanted to hug her mother. "You sure, ah, sure you're okay?"
Candy nodded; her hands slid around, flirting with the groove above Deana's tailbone. Love might be blind, Deana thought, but the combination of love and lust was blind, deaf, dumb, and treacherous. Fear ripped at her integrity, telling Deana it might be the only chance to be with Candy the way Cindy had. Candy's arms encompassed her lower back. Their bellies pressed together, and her mother asked, "Honey, why wouldn't I be?"
The cushions of Candy's chest pressed against Deana's as her mother's arms tightened. Suddenly, a tremendous sadness washed over her. "Mah, mah, Mommy." She threw her arms around Candy and clung to her the way Cindy might have.
"It's okay, baby, it's okay," Candy said. "I love you, too."
The desperate embrace gradually transitioned to a comforting hug that would have been expected between a mother and daughter-that’s if Deana hadn't been naked. Candy released her, and she assumed her protective stance. "I better go, Mom. I better . . . "
Candy gave a reluctant nod. Deana turned, walked a few feet, and glanced back. Her mother was staring, and knowing the woman she called Mom was watching her ass made Deana smile. "See ya later," she said.
"Mmhmm, you will," Candy said, "but now I'm gonna lay down for a little while."
"Okay." Was that an invitation, Deana wondered?
Before Candy disappeared into the back hallway, she said, "You and Evan are on your own for dinner. Sorry."
Once Deana was in her room, sitting at her desk, arousal waned, and shame blossomed. She hadn't thought of herself as a cheater, yet she would have jumped into bed with Candy despite first-hand knowledge of Cindy's love for Candy. And even now, with her compromised integrity in full view, the little demon in Deana's brain suggested her likeness to Cindy should be exploited. She should go to Candy's room. It may have been an invitation.
Deana didn’t listen to that bad voice, but every spot Candy had touched buzzed with physical memory, and her brain flashed vivid pictures of the woman. Over and over, they looped, replaying the whole scene. Then, Deana thought of something Candy said: "I love you, too." Had she heard her mother correctly?
Deana didn't remember telling Candy she loved her, but if she had, that would explain, too. It could have also meant, I love Evan and you, too. The third possibility made Deana shiver.
Candy closed her bedroom door, fell against it, and slid down. Each day that passed, Deana's beauty, witty humor, sexy flirtations, and loving heart made her more like Cindy. How easy it had been to run to Deana and fall into a passionate embrace. The first time something like that happened, Deana had caught her off guard during a weak moment of missing Cindy, but this time, she was the one who almost kissed Deana. She wanted to, but that couldn't happen.
How was she going to live under the same roof with someone who reminded her of the girl who had been her lover? Worse than that, Candy was trapped in the same house with a boy she loved the way she had loved Gloria's father. Those feelings would be impossible to hide, and John would see it. Then what?
Evan knocked and opened Deana's door. His sister jerked and turned away from the window. The look on her face made him say, "I'm sorry I didn't wait for an answer, but Mom's home."
"I know I already saw her."
"Like that?" he asked.
"Yup, naked as ya can be."
"Shit, what did she say?" he asked. "And why didn't you warn me?"
"It's not like you haven't already put that," she pointed at his dick, "in her."
"Yeah, but what if I walked in while you were there? She would have known something was up with us."
"Relax, she's in her room," Deana said and went back to staring out the window.
"What's up with you?" he asked and started massaging Deana's shoulders. "You okay?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Um, you seem mad, sad, or something."
"I'm fine, and stop that." She shrugged his hands away.
"Why?"
"Because your massages always lead to other things, and Mom is home."
He put his hands on her neck without massaging it. "Tell me what happened with Mom."
"What makes you think something happened?"
"Dee, it’s not like it was when I was too busy jerking off," he said, "I know when there's something wrong." He spun Deana around on the desk chair and knelt in front of her. "Go ahead, tell me what's going on."
"I stood in front of Mom without anything on, and she hugged me."
"And?"
Deana hung her head, avoiding eye contact. "I want her, wanna feel her skin on mine, explore every curve, kiss every inch of her, and taste her . . . I wanted to taste her and make her cum while she looked into my eyes."
"Whoa, jeez, um, what's wrong with that? It wouldn't bother me."
"I can't," Deana said.
"You scared?" he asked. "Let's both go and get in bed with her."
"Trust me, Evan, that's not what she needs," Deana said. "There is some crazy shit going on, and she needs us . . . our help."
The intense, dark stare and the solemn expression on his sister's face made him nervous. "What are you talking about? Did she say something?"
"No, but she didn't have to. I could tell," Deana said.
"How?"
"It's a girl thing, we just know stuff."
"Stuff," he mumbled. "What stuff?"
"Like when another girl is in love. Mom's in love with someone."
"Huh? Who, me?"
"Yes, I'm sure she loves you, but there is someone else, someone who she has been in love with for a while, and I think we're complicating things for her."
"You mean me, I'm complicating things, but how could she be? Mom doesn't know anyone, any men, and she never goes anywhere. Who could she possibly be in love with?"
"I didn't mean you. I meant me-us, and I don't think it's a man," Deana said.
He got up, pulling Deana to her feet, held her face in his hands, and stared into her eyes. "Who is it?" His sister knew.
"I don't, don't know," Deana said and struggled.
He held on tight. "Dee, why don't you trust me?"
"I do, I swear, more than anybody. It's you and me, and-It's us against the world, the same as it's been since Mommy was taken away from us." Deana sank into Evan’s hug.”
The pain Deana felt evoked a sudden rage, and Evan trembled. "I love you, no matter what, I'll always love you."
"I know that," she said.
"Then you should tell me things, the stuff you don't want me to know."
"I will," Deana said. "Mom might know about us. I don't know how long she was home or if she knows I came from your room, so go find out if we're in trouble."
"Why me?"
"She's used to you being in her room. Find out if she knows, and that's all. Don't ask her any questions or do what you normally do."
Evan nodded. "Fine, I'll do it in a little while, but I'm hungry. Did we even eat anything today?"
"Not unless you count what you did to me in Gloria's room." His sister almost smiled. "The rest of the time, we were sleeping."
"I guess we were," he said. "You wore me out yesterday with all that-"
"Wait a second, I'm the one who should be worn out . . . or at least sore, which I am, thank you very much."
"Anytime."
"Mom said we should handle dinner without her, but I think she expects us to wear clothes."
A shiver-jerk spazzed his body. "Fuck, can you imagine if we could live like this forever?"
"Honestly, I don't think I could stand seeing Mom and Gloria naked without-"
"No, please don't say it," he said. "I can't think about that right now. I'm too hungry to have a boner."
"Wow, let me write that down. It's a first."
Evan shook his head and went to his room for clothes.
Darlene rotated the scissors, digging the point into her thigh. She paused, then applied more pressure and turned them the other way. Her skin stretched, threatening to tear. It was one of those situations that Darlene should write about. Her journal and favorite pen were on the floor between her outstretched legs. The school psychologist always said, "Speak to a parent or other trusted adult rather than acting out." Darlene shifted, and the beanbag seat crunched under her ass. Her parent was passed out on the couch with her mouth hanging open, and Darlene had considered pissing down the woman's throat.
Miss Style was the only adult Darlene trusted, but she was off to California again. Boy George was her next thought. She could sneak into the Andersons' backyard and let him fuck her. If Mr. Anderson caught them, he might fuck her, too.
It had never made Darlene feel less abandoned, but assuming her mother was a meth addict at least gave the woman an excuse. Gloria said the woman who was supposedly her mother was cool and rich, and they all went skinny dipping in her giant pool. That was the kind of mother Darlene had always dreamed about, someone like Miss Style, without a cock, of course.
Darlene liked Gloria and wanted to be excited with her about finally meeting her aunt, but not knowing any of your mother's family wasn't as bad as not knowing who your parents were. Still, Darlene wanted to be happy for Gloria. It wasn't her fault, and Gloria had always been kind. She was the type of sister Darlene would want, but she'd settle for a kissing cousin, and that girl sure knew how to kiss.
A burst of piss shot across the crappy carpet. Blots soaked into the top page of her journal. Darlene watched the blue ink spread out as the paper swelled, blurring her previous thoughts. The scissors drew blood. Darlene stiffened and released the three Cokes she drank earlier in a long arching stream. The golden liquid splattered her feet and ankles. It was better than drowning the woman in the other room or getting caught with a dog's dick in her. Wasn't it?
Darlene swore and punctured her leg again. It was stupid to let herself imagine a family and happily ever after. That wasn't her lot in life. Sally probably wasn't her mother, anyway, but even if she were, the woman had given her up when she was a baby. Was there any excuse for that?
After Evan ate lots of things his mother wouldn't make for dinner, he stood outside his parent's door for a minute without knocking. Then, he raised his fist but still didn't knock. If Candy was asleep, Evan wanted her to stay that way. If she was awake, Candy might pretend not to be, and he'd be in trouble for entering without knocking. Finally, Evan told himself you're the man of the house and opened the door.
Candy was in bed on her back. He locked the door, walked over, and stood there, staring. Her left leg was straight, her foot uncovered, and the other leg was bent, forming a triangle under the sheet. It appeared she had been propped up on two pillows, but they were only under her left shoulder now, twisting Candy’s upper body to the right. It seemed uncomfortable. Maybe she'll need a massage, Evan thought.
A silky sheet laid loosely over the hills and valleys, masking the sculpted perfection Evan knew so well. Deana's right, he told himself, but kept staring at the outline of his mother's body, imagining the lazy posture of her breasts, flat stomach, the mound above her pubic bone, and the thick swells of labia. If Candy spread her legs, the outer flaps would part and flaunt the fiery pink of her inner flesh. The memory of the first time his tongue was engulfed in the pungent, womanly juices made Evan’s body stiffen and jerk. It had taken his breath away.
The night he snuck into Candy's room, her cute little feet had been the first thing Evan noticed. Then, he saw the red panties that could barely contain what had been the object of thousands of his fantasies; his mother’s pussy.
Evan didn't have a foot fetish, but he knew from Deana and Miss Tonya what a sensual pleasure zone the feet were. Candy's pinky toe twitched when his lips approached the ball of her foot. He gently exhaled, and two toes wiggled. What kind of creepy pervert would kiss their mother's toes while she slept? Pretty much the kind of pervert I've become, Evan thought and reached into his pocket. Deana hadn't said which foot or toe, but only the left was exposed, and that was the one he wanted. It was silly because it wasn't her hand, and that wasn't what the ring was supposed to symbolize, but he wanted to see it on her left ring toe if there was such a thing.
"Mom," he whispered, holding her big toe between his thumb and index finger.
Candy jerked, and her head snapped up. Her wide eyes and stressed face quickly softened when she saw him. "Evan."
"Mom," he said. The grin he fought to suppress matched the one he had as a boy while giving Candy the first Mother's Day present he bought with his allowance money.
"Honey, we can't."
"I know," he said, "I got you something."
"You what?" Candy asked and righted herself on the pillows so she could watch him.
The tip of Evan's finger gently circled the underside of her toe. The tension faded, and Candy's countenance turned. He kissed the tip of her toe and separated it from the others. "Mom, I want you to have something special from me." He slipped the three bands over her toe, tenderly moving it down while his chin wrinkled and his eyes blinked, fighting back the emotions. "It will remind you of us." He pressed his lips to the bottom of her foot, and tears fell on her toes. "I love you." He bowed his head to hide his embarrassment.
It was a beautiful symbol of their love, yet it felt like an ending, a sad, brokenhearted ending.
"Baby, look at me."
Evan lifted his head and dragged his forearm across his face. Candy was sitting up. A trail of tears ran down her cheeks, fell to her chest, and inched toward her nipples. "Baby, come here." She patted the spot on the bed next to her.
Evan crawled up alongside his mother without looking at her. She kissed his forehead, laid back on the pillows, and said, "Let me hold you."
He collapsed beside her and rested his head on her chest while Candy strummed fingers across his cheek. His tears spilled into her cleavage. "Don't worry, honey," she said, "it's all going to work out. I promise."
Their roles had reverted back, and Evan let Candy mother him the way she used to. So much for his newfound manhood and protecting Candy from his father.
Evan rolled on his back, and Candy turned on her side, looking down at him. "Want a pillow?" He shook his head, and Candy said, "Thank you for letting me hold you. I like being your mother, too. Sometimes I need that."
"Mmhmm." It felt like an utter defeat to Evan, but he understood. Sometimes, he wanted to hold Gloria as if she were still a little kid.
"I still need you," Candy said and put her hand on his chest. "Just because we can't be together, doesn't mean I don't still want you and need you that way, like a man . . . my man. I do. I see you that way, even though I'm your mother."
Evan put his hand on Candy’s and said, "You do?"
"Of course. I'm here for you as a mother and other times . . . you're a man, and I need that, too. I love you both ways, but sex is, well, it's just something we shouldn't do." She kissed him. He nibbled her lip and slipped his tongue into her mouth, anticipating his mother's resistance.
Candy pulled away, sighed, rolled on top of him, and pushed herself up, sitting back on her folded legs. He looked down at the woman's pussy, resting on his stomach. It was warm and moist. She squeezed his pecks and reached for his neck, leaning forward. Her tits swung and bumped together. He slid his hands up the slopes of her thighs until his thumbs were pressed into the joining of her groin and legs. Candy pushed her tit toward his face, offering him the swollen nipple. He kissed it, circled it with his tongue, and sucked it deep into his mouth. "Mmmm." She purred and said, "This has to be our last time."
Evan nodded with the nipple between his teeth, tugging playfully.
"Good, good, that's good, our last time," she said.
For the first time since their affair started, Evan was thinking about ways to fuck Candy after his father came back, even while he was there in the house. That would add another dimension to their lustful secrets.
Candy's ass rose, and Evan held on to it, pulling himself down between his mother’s legs. She combed her fingers through his hair. "Last time," she mumbled, "our last time."
Evan pressed his fingertips into the smooth, spongy folds and opened Candy’s labia. The pink, juicy inner flesh appeared. He pursed his lips and blew a pointed stream of air. His mother moaned and pulled his hair. His mouth watered with anticipation. Evan wanted to plunge his tongue in and make his mother cum.
There would never be a last time if Evan had his way, but just in case, he restrained himself. Every other time they made love, there had been that nervous, fearful rush because he either couldn't believe it was happening or was afraid she might suddenly realize they shouldn't be fucking. This time, he would do everything Miss Tonya taught him about pleasuring a woman so Candy never forgot this day, and she'd know how much he loved her.
Evan moved out from under Candy, grabbed her hips, and flipped her on her back. She gasped and asked, "What are you doing?"
He faked confidence, smiled, and shoved Candy's body up the bed. "If this is the last time, I want it to be special," he said, sitting with her feet in his lap. "I want you to always remember how much I love you." He started massaging the arches of her feet. This is going to take some time, he thought.
"Honey, I know that and could never forget." Candy's eyes glistened while she watched him turn the ring on her toe and purposefully kiss each one. "I love you and Deana more than there are words to tell you."
Evan sucked in one of his mother's toes. She fell against the pillows and said, "Ah, and I'm never gonna forget this, am I?"
"Never," he said and went to work.
It wasn't as loud as it had been the night in the racetrack bathroom, but only because Deana was listening from the other side of a locked door. She huffed and plodded back to the kitchen. Damn him, Deana thought. I tell him to stay away, and he's in there fucking her for over an hour. She spun on her socked foot and marched back to their parent's door. Candy was still grunting and groaning. Deana winced. What would I have done if it wasn't locked, stop them? No, not that. What then, she asked herself?
Fuck, how could he do that? Deana rushed back to the kitchen and turned in circles. Who am I to judge? I have a girlfriend, and I'm fucking Evan, too. And two hours ago, I was ready to jump in bed with Candy. Deana grabbed her phone off the table.
"Hey, girlfriend," Rebecca said. "What's going on?"
"I was just outside my mother's room listening to them fuck."
"Whaaah, whaah, what? Who's fucking, Cindy and Candy?"
"Evan, Evan is in there."
"Lah, loo, look, look in and tell me what's happening."
"Stop stuttering, and no, no, I'm not gonna look."
"Why not?" Rebecca asked.
"It's locked, the door is locked."
"Oh, so that's why you're all pissy."
"Pissy?"
"Yeah, you sound pissed," Rebecca said. "You mad because you can't watch your brother's big dick hammering in and out, ah, in, out, mm, in and out of your mother's beautiful pussy?"
"Shut up!"
"So you're jealous because it's not you," Rebecca said. "Is it Candy or Evan you want to be with?"
"No, but I told him he shouldn't-"
"Shouldn't ram your mother's delicious pussy with his giant prick? You think she's on her hands and knees, taking him from behind? You wish you were under her, licking the sweetness of her lust while your brother slides in and out?"
"Stop, stop, stop it, please, stop it."
"Are you crying?" Rebecca asked.
"No, ah, yeah, I guess."
"Baby, I'm sorry, I was only playing, fooling around," Rebecca said. "I didn't realize-What happened? What's wrong?"
"Cindy, Cindy, she's in love with Candy, and Evan's in there."
"Dee, you're in love with me, right?"
"I know, I know, I am, I don't know."
"Yes, you do," Rebecca said. "So tell me about it."
As much as Deana wanted to tell someone, how could she repeat something she only heard in her head? "Reb, I guess I feel sorry for Cindy. She came to see me. She's torn up because my mother told her it was too dangerous, and she won't see her anymore."
"Dangerous?"
"You know, if my father found out, he would freak out and cut Cindy off. He pays money for racing and for college when she goes."
"No doubt it would be bad to get caught," Rebecca said, "but why would your father pay for her school?"
"I don't know," she said. "Things seem so crazy, confusing."
"Dee, I'm worried about you."
"Don't," Deana said. "I'll be fine once I'm with you. That's all it is. I'm emotional. I miss you."
"I miss you, too," Rebecca said. "Can you come over now and spend the night?"
"Mm, let me see," Deana said. "When my mother's done . . . ah, fucking my brother, I'll talk to her."
"Oh, my, God, do you have any fuckin' idea how that sounded?" Rebecca asked. "I swear I'm about to get off. Say it again."
"No, I gotta go."
"And what, keep listening to them?" Rebecca asked. "Tell me what's happening."
If her girlfriend had been there listening to Candy's shouts, Rebecca would have broken through the door. "No. I have to be quiet."
"So you are gonna listen more. You better tell me every detail while I'm fucking-"
"Bye, love you, bye." Deana ended the call, silenced her phone, and went back to sit on the floor with her ear to the door. She wanted to hear everything, even the tiny whimpers, cries of pleasure, and especially the whispered declarations.
Deana bit her lower lip and held her breath to listen better.
Candy was on her stomach, and Evan stared at the broad, fleshy cushions. The woman's ass was magnificent. He squeezed and kissed the swells. She flexed, and a ridge formed down the center of each cheek, making her ass cleavage more glorious. He wanted to do what he had imagined in the kitchen so many times and fuck the groove the way he had her daughter's tits, but that wasn't something Candy would remember forever.
Other than titty fucking Candy and cumming on her face, they had done everything except-Miss Tonya had warned him, "Not all girls are into that, but those that are will worship you and beg for it if you do it right." Evan hoped Candy fell into the latter group.
A warm, moist stream of air led the way for Evan’s lips. Candy murmured. The scent of her well-fucked pussy was infused with the animalistic smell of anal taboo if that was a thing he could actually perceive with his nose. The gap narrowed with an instinctive urge to reject his tongue, but Evan pushed on, using his hands to make room for his face. Candy jerked, coiled up, and shoved her middle off the mattress. His face was stuffed deep in her ass cleavage. The tangy, sweet flavor on his tongue excited him. Candy's body reversed, smashing her groin into the bed, so Evan shoved a hand under her pubic bone. She hunched and ground her crotch on it. He grabbed her mound with his fingers and pushed his thumb into her juicy slit. Candy bucked against the stiffness of his tongue and forced his thumb into her pussy. He tongue fucked the nerve-laden inner edges of his mother’s asshole while she kicked the mattress and thrashed on Evan’s hand.
Candy pushed off the headboard and shoved her ass up. "Now it’s my turn to make sure you never forget our last time," she said.
Evan knelt between her legs, grabbed Candy’s hips, and yanked her up onto her hands and knees, hoping his mother meant what he thought. His erection was smashed into a luscious ass-cheek sandwich. "I want it, baby, want it in the ass."
Forever, those words would be seared on Evan's brain. No matter how many times he replayed them, they would always have the same impact. He shoved his cock down and forcefully dragged the head through his mother's wetness. Lustfully, Candy moaned her approval. He circled the silky anal bud with his slick knob, gradually applying more pressure. Candy purred and changed the angle of her body. Her anus yawned its readiness, so he pushed, and heat enveloped his dick head. Evan stared at the cock lodged in his mother's asshole as if he couldn't imagine it was his. Then autopilot took over.
Candy bolted upright on her knees, and Evan wrapped his arms around her stomach. She flung her head back, banging it on his shoulder. He humped, driving himself upward into his mother's body. Her jostling tits bounced on his forearms. She reached over her head and grabbed his neck. He groped her crotch, slicing two fingers into the wet folds. Her stiff arousal was poking out, so he pumped his arm, grinding his mother's swollen clit while thrusting his groin. The head of his dick borrowed through the resistance deep inside his mother's ass. She twisted her nipple and cried out, "Ah, yes, fuck me, fuck me hard." Candy rocked, slamming her ass back against his groin. "Fuck me in the ass."
It felt unnatural to be so forceful, almost violent, but Evan's body responded to his mother's crude demands, humping against her angry backward thrusts. It was as if she wanted to be punished, and he gave his mother what she wanted.
They fell forward together. Evan did a push-up, moved higher to change the angle, and fucked straight down into his mother's ass. The head of his dick plowed into the front wall, then his cock turned upward, driving through her rectum. Slap, slap, slap, his groin pounded her ass cheeks.
The pillow Candy's face was stuffed in muffled her screams, but they were still loud and vulgar. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck my ass." She sucked the fingers that had been wailing on her pussy.
The idea of his mother tasting herself and the cum he shot in her earlier made Evan crazy with lust. He increased the length and speed of his strokes. Candy's orgasm made her insides jerk and squeeze. He shortened his relentless thrusts and fucked his mother through her climax. Then, she begged him to finish. Hearing his mother ask him to cum in her ass was surreal. His balls tightened, and he pumped his seed deep inside Candy. It was the first time it hadn't gone in her baby hole. He collapsed on her back and spilled off to the side. His slimy cock slid free and dragged across her cheek.
"Mom, you okay?"
"Mm, Mom," she said, "I like the sound of that. I'm exhausted."
He moved so his mother could turn over and laid his leg across her stomach, then brushed the damp strands of hair off her sweat-sheened face. "Was that alright? I didn't mean to be so rough."
"Baby," she kissed his hand and held it to her chest, "that was what I wanted."
His mother's expression changed to that of a girl about Gloria's age. He kissed her forehead and realized their roles had flip-flopped again.
When the boisterous sex abruptly ended, Deana removed her ear from the door. Her palms were sweaty, and her panties were a sopping mess. Her brain created a movie from her mother's demands and the resulting grunts and pained moans. She might have imagined a more violent, unwarranted pummeling than Evan gave Candy, but the woman in the kitchen, the one Deana had kissed and the one she imagined making love to, wouldn't want to be treated like that. Candy didn't deserve that, even if she were the one asking for it. Their mother was hurting, and Deana understood how emotional pain made you do things you wouldn't do otherwise. If Evan realized that, he wouldn't have done it. Deana wanted to believe that about her brother as much as she had tried to convince herself her father didn't know his cum on her body or down her throat wasn’t something she wanted. Believing a lie was easier than living with the truth.
The silence in Candy's room made Deana nervous. If one of them suddenly opened the door, it would be a mortifying end to her bizarre day. It was as if she had never fully recovered from that dreamlike state Evan sent her into that morning in Gloria's bed and what happened with Cindy later. Deana needed to talk to someone, but Cindy didn't want anyone to know, especially not Evan. Too bad Evan was the one person Deana most needed to tell.
Evan smelled of sex and sweat. His dick was crusted with the dry mix of his mother's ass juices and his cum. He needed a shower and had hoped their last time together would end with his mother washing him while he did the same for her.
Evan was disappointed when she turned him down, but it hadn't been much of a surprise. Candy had lost her mind toward the end of what had been a long, slow, sensual lovemaking session. His mother had a complete personality change compared to every other time they made love. She demanded it rough, and he gave her what she asked for, but his mother made it more violent. It was as if she wanted to be punished for being with him. Then, once the randy fucking flamed out with the last explosive bursts of orgasm, Candy's persona shifted again. Her body was limp, and from what Evan could perceive, she was embarrassed and regretful like a child. She kissed him, told him she loved him more than he could ever understand, and asked Evan to go.
He put on his shorts and T-shirt, watching Candy the whole time. She faked a smile, threw him a kiss, and went into the master bath. The sound of the lock clicking sent ice through Evan’s veins. He left his mother's room somewhat dazed, confused, and sad.
Deana's door was ajar, but Evan didn't look in until he heard his name in a tone that made him want to keep going. "Get in here," Deana said and grabbed his arm.
"I'm going in the shower." He resisted, but he had to go unless he was willing to overpower Deana.
"Damn it, Evan" Deana closed the door and stood between it and Evan. "What if Cindy heard you?"
"Cindy?"
"I didn't mean-I meant Gloria, but Cindy could have heard you from the driveway if she happened to come back. What if Gloria came home?"
"She isn't coming home tonight."
"Evan!"
"I know, you're right, I'm sorry," he said. "It was the last time, one last time."
"I hope so," Deana said.
"I really need a shower."
"Yeah, you do." She opened her door and dismissed him with a glare.
Evan knew there was going to be more to that conversation, but for now, he needed to get clean, chill in his room, and figure out what the fuck was happening to him. It was as if he was two different people. One wanted to love and protect Candy and would never fuck her daughter. The other guy wanted to fuck Deana while Candy watched, and . . ..