#4 A Family Foursome With My Twin Sister Turns Into Messy Christmas-Themed Thanksgiving
T. A. BEAU
A Family Foursome With My Twin Sister Turns Into Messy Christmas-Themed Thanksgiving
T. A. BEAU
A Family Blood Incest Erotica Short Story with BDSM, FF, Group Sex.
Copyright © 2024 T. A. BEAU
All rights reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the writer and the publisher.
WORD COUNT: 5000 words
Santa’s Naughty Incest Village Serial: Story #4
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I bump Molly’s hip, making the little bells on the skirts of our costumes jingle. She giggles with me as we take a few pictures together.
“So Holly,” my twin sister by three minutes teases. “How do you like the new costumes?”
“I don’t think they’re as sexy as they could be. How are we supposed to get attention while the kids are on Santa’s lap?” I pout while adjusting the top.
Sure, our curvy bodies aren’t hidden by the cute green costumes, but they’re definitely cute rather than sexy. I know that’s for kids, logically, but since we’re working here, there’s no reason for us not to look amazing.
Molly rubs my lips and kisses my neck before putting on her thick red lipstick. “It’s been too long since we’ve had fun.”
“I know,” I groan. “Together or with separate guys. I can’t even offer to join in with you lately!”
“We’ll just have to fix that,” she says before turning me to look at her big blue eyes. I press my lips to hers so I get some of her lipstick and she giggles.
My twin sister and I are freaky and kinky and all things in between. I twirl her hair around my finger and she adjusts my long blonde braid.
“Well, let’s go see who’s filling in for our normal Santa,” Molly says.
“Oh, do you think we’ll have a sexy Santa this time?” I ask with a wink before rubbing my lips together to spread the red lipstick.
“Ladies, we need to go,” Dad’s voice booms towards us as he walks in, dressed as Santa.
After he looks us over, he heads out and Molly licks her lips. “Maybe it’s just because he’s our dad, but yum.”
“It’s definitely not just because he’s our dad,” I assure.
Dad’s sexy as hell. His dark copper hair, that little chin dimple, his broad shoulders and lean, muscled body, those intense eyes that can go from warm and open to commanding and dominating in a second, his big hands and thick fingers.
It’s been a couple of years since I realized my own attraction to my father. Was it a shocker? Not really! And the minute Molly caught me looking, she confessed herself. Too many nights, we’ve rubbed our cunts to numbness, wondering how our Dad’s cock would feel. He has been the topic of our dirty talk and fantasies for a while now.
“We get a sexy Santa today...are we going to waste it?” I ask Molly.
“Hell no, Holly. We’re going to have some fun,” she decides.
We head out and I definitely notice how sexy he looks in his costume. He’s the kind of Santa that makes moms crazy, not kids. The hat now hides most of his hair, and the beard covers his nose and the bottom of his face. The thick fabric makes him look bigger and sexier, and when I look at Molly, she looks right at me while sliding her arm in mine.
“Dibs,” we say at the same time. I laugh and nudge her. “Fine, it’s a challenge.”
“First girl to get Dad to fuck her wins,” Molly fills in. “Meaning that she gets to be fucked and eaten out.”
“I don’t think that means there’s really a loser,” I hum.
“All the better for us then,” she says with a wink.
As we take our place around Santa’s throne, adjusting some of the fake presents and whatnot, I notice Aunt Sofia's approach. She’s dressed as Mrs. Claus and will be working in the bakery and at Santa’s photoshoot area. She looks plenty good herself.
Aunt Sofia is Uncle Drew’s second wife. She’s barely 30 years old. She has bright, clear skin, perfect almond eyes, thick black hair that she’s wound back into a bun, and her delicate curves are emphasized by her outfit.
Molly motions between Dad and Aunt Sofia, and I notice the tension, too. Anytime he says her name, she blushes, and moves closer, but stays just out of reach. His eyes linger a bit longer on her, and I arch an eyebrow at Molly.