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Living With Your Mistakes

Incest
2006-11-22

Living With Your Mistakes
 
 
 
It had been several months since the last time, and there was no way I could hide it now.   Soon, my mother would begin to notice why I was wearing baggier clothes, and gaining so much weight, and suddenly had a strange taste for pickles and ice cream.   The only thing I was dreading was telling her.   She’s a strong woman, I have no doubt that she would be there for me during the process, but telling her would probably break her in half.   The worst part about telling her was would I really tell her the truth?
 
After staring at the ceiling for an undeterminable amount of time, I finally threw the covers away from me, and crawled out of bed.   The familiar rumble in my stomach came as I made it to my feet.   I pressed my hands to my stomach, and noticed its ever-growing size.   Shame filled my face, and cluttered my emotions, as I hurried to get dressed.   I tugged on a double XXL pink t-shirt as my mother knocked on the door.   Fear froze me in an instant, as her charming, worldly voice rang out to me, “Honey, are you almost ready?  I’ve got breakfast for you downstairs. ” She stated.
 
I tried my hardest not to let my voice quiver, but to little avail, “Y-yea-yeah, sure mom.   I’ll…ummm…I’ll be down…in ummm…a sec. ” I responded.
 
“Ok hun. ” My mother departed from the door, and relief fell over me, but it didn’t take long for panic to sit in either.

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    I took a deep breath.
 
“We’re gonna do this today, Janey.   We have to. ” I said to myself, as I straightened my composure and calmly headed downstairs.   As I neared our living room, the smell of mom’s fresh strawberry pancakes arose in my nostrils, and I was immediately filled with a sense of warmth.   Warmth, which I hoped not to be deprived of.    My mom made her exit from the kitchen draped in her cook’s apron over her pink pajama wear carrying a plate of traditional breakfast food.  
 
She smiled her warm motherly smile, sat the plate down, and gave me a kiss and a hug for the morning, “Good morning honey. ” She said.
 
“Morning mom” I almost dejectedly responded.  
 
She tilted her head to the right, smiled again, and asked, “Everything alright honey?”
 
Before I could even stop myself, and yank the words back into my mouth, and only say them in my head, they flung free, “Mom, I’m pregnant. ” I blurted.   I cringed at the sound of the words coming from me, and didn’t even want to look at my mother’s face, but when I did, I could see that sense of warmth fade, and out came the look of depression, sadness, and anger.    “Mom…”
 
“You’re what?” she interrupted.
 
“Mom, I’m sorry…”
 
“Who?” she asked as she cut me off again.

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    Her stern expression mimicked the one she gave me when I was 8, and I lost her necklace that she got me for Christmas, except I’m almost sure the consequences for this will be much worse.   I stood there; completely afraid to answer for fear that she would leap towards me with a butter knife and manage to cut me open to get the seed out of me.   “Janetta Antoinette Briggs, I asked you a question. ” Damnit, I hate it when she uses my full name.   It’s a parental term that no matter how old you are makes you even more frightened of what your parents might do.   I stood there silent.   Inside debating whether or not I should tell my mother the truth.   How I wish I could stand there and say it was my boyfriend Josh, who took me to his house when his parents were out bowling, took me up into his room, stripped me naked, and made wild passionate love to me.   How I wish I could say he enjoyed me so much that he couldn’t control himself, and he had to explode inside me.   How I wish I could say it, but it wouldn’t be true.   No, the truth isn’t even close to that.   “Who Janetta?” my mom asked again.
 
I so wish I had the spirit that most teenagers do to lie to their parents, but I can’t.   It’s just not in me for some reason.   As I gazed upward and laid eyes on my mother’s pearl face, her eyes glowing with anger, and confusion and welling up tears from sadness.

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    It took every bone in me to tell her a lie, and still I failed.   “It was Mike…mom. ”  I knew for a fact that I would expect the shocked reaction, but the more serious shock was the slap across my face that followed.  
 
“You expect me to believe that it’s my son who conceived that bastard in you. ” My mother retorted.   It was an instant heartache as she said those hateful words.   Despite everything with my mother, she never said anything so hateful.   She turned away from me, and began to sob silently.   “Get away from me Janey.   Get away!” she screamed at me.   I ran upstairs to my room in a hurry, I slammed the door behind me, and fell into my bed.   Sobbing into my pillow.   It must’ve been hours that I cried.   Still in that time, my mother never came up to my room to console me.   I suppose it’s ignorant of me to expect it, but you can’t blame a child for wondering where her parents are when they’re crying.

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    It took a while, but I finally had cried so much that I had fallen asleep, and try as I might, the image of that night.   That terrible night 4 months ago played over in my mind as if it were yesterday.
 
“Hey Janey, long time, no see. ”  Michael said as he entered my room with a charming smile on his face.   He was 21 now.   I hadn’t seen him in months since he’s been away at college.  
 
“Mikey!” I screamed as I ran towards my brother and gave him a big welcome home hug.   I noticed he grabbed a hold of my ass as I bounded into his arms, but I naively thought nothing of it.
 
“I have a present for you. ” He said, as he reached into a huge duffel bag that he had strapped over his shoulder, and pulled out a box no bigger than a doggie-bag, and handed it to me.   “Now don’t open it until later.   Until you’re just about to go to bed alright?”
 
“Sure thing”  ‘Sure thing’ I said.   Sure-fucking-thing.   My brother had never given me a reason not to trust him.   There was no reason to start doubting his loyalty now.

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    We ate dinner with mom.   We laughed and joked about the good times when he stayed with us, and talked about how college was.   He had some interesting stories to tell us about the dorm life.   Dinner was the norm.   We had a good time.   Stayed up at the dinner table, long after the food was gone just talking like a family.   It wasn’t long before that I realized it was nearly one O’ clock in the morning.   Mom cleared the table, and Mike helped.   I retreated to my room for a good night’s sleep, and my brother’s gift.  
 
I got undressed, and took a shower.   I was fresh and ripe.   Smelled of honey suckle and watermelon.   I dressed in a tee and a pair of panties.   It never occurred to me to wear full pajamas like mom does, and scurried into bed.   I hit the lights except for the one near my bedpost as I prepared to open my brother’s gift.

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    Just then, a soft knock came on my door.   “Come in. ” I called.
 
“Hey sis, did you open it yet?” Mike asked curiously.
 
“Just about to. ”
 
“Cool. ” Mike said as he came into my room, shut my door, and made a space for himself on my bed.   I smiled sweetly, and went to open the box.   There, wrapped in paper was a three-heart locket.   It was a beautiful sterling silver, and had two pictures inside the hearts.   One was of my brother, the other was of me.   The third was in the middle, and empty.  
 
“Who’s the third heart gonna be for? Mom?” I asked.
 
“Maybe. ” He slyly responded.

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“Well, I love it.   Thank you big brother. ” I said to Mike as I gave him another hug.
 
“No problem sis. ” He whispered into my ear then kissed me on my cheek.   “See you in the morning. ” He said, and he lifted himself away from my bed, and walked out the door.   I placed the locket on my nightstand, turned off the light, and quickly drifted to sleep.
 
As I dreamed of my happy home, and how lucky I was to have a mother who loved me, a brother who was in college, and a wonderful role model, I also neglected to hear my bedroom door open, and I could only give half-sleep responses to questions like “Janey, are you awake?”
 
Still, I didn’t awake from my slumber as the sound of pants falling to the ground rang out, or sheets being took off my body, but I did make a stir as my panties were lifted from my waist, and still I didn’t awake.   Until I felt the stiffness of a raging hard incestuous cock invading my teenage pussy with gusto.   Suddenly my eyes made their way open, and I could get a glimpse of my ravager.   It was Mike.   My brother.   My very own brother, who was penetrating me.   He had thrown caution to the wind now as he began to furiously thrust inside me.

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    His massive engulfing form towering over me as he grabbed hold of the back of my head and kept pounding, pounding, pounding inside of my pussy.   He was too strong to fight off, and I knew I would regret denying him.   He lifted my shirt up and gazed upon my 36 C sized breasts.   He took one in his mouth and never lost his rhythm.   Pounding and pounding away at my twat, with his hot mouth tasting my nipple.
 
“Mike, no…what’re you doing?” I managed to utter out.   He gave no response in words, just mere grunts as he slyly smiled again as he continued his ravaging of his younger sister’s pussy.   I hated how my body was responding to this.   My pussy just kept getting wetter and wetter.   Mike appreciated it more than anything.   My nipples were erect and ready for his tongue pleasing.   I bit my lip at the sheer magnitude of this sexual encounter, and the thrilling yet dangerous conclusions it would offer.   As my mind drifted back to the current situation, my brother was still on top of me, now with his lips pressed against mine forcing his tongue inside my mouth.   Kissing me passionately, and still, in a way, raping me.   Finally, he pulled his still erect cock out of me.

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    Giving me a moment to understand what was going on.   I stared at him.   I tried to look hateful, but I was more confused than anything.   He sat there breathing hard with his cock a blazing 9 inches long.   “Mike…I. . . ” I could barely get the words out, but it was no use anyway.
 
“Get up and turn around. ” Mike told me.   I was hesitant at first, but if he was willing to rape me in my sleep, I was afraid of anything else he might do to me.   I eventually obliged.   I got up, and turned around.   My ass in the air facing him.   He first caressed it, then without any moments rest, he forced his dick back in my pussy.

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    The feeling was utterly sensational.   I choked back moans of pleasure as I was indeed enjoying this feeling , as much as my entire being wanted to deny it, he was fucking me so incredibly good.   Then, it happened.   He rammed his dick in me so hard that it hit a spot I wasn’t even aware of until that night, and all my being came flooding out in one magnificent orgasm.   My entire body shook, my pussy tightened around his dick and I flooded the bed with my sperm. Still, he continued to fuck me.   Squeezing my tits with each incredible thrust.   He was screaming his delight by now, he didn’t care if the world knew that he was fucking his sister cause he was fucking his sister.   He grabbed a hold of my waist and in a matter of strokes, I could fill my brother’s cum seeping into my stomach.   He was cumming inside of me.   My very own brother was cumming inside of me.  
 
At that moment, it was the most thrilling thing I’d ever felt, but now, now I see the consequences.   Mike pulled his dick out of me, and I collapse onto the bed face first.   “I love you sis. ” Mike stated as he slapped his dick across my ass twice and laid down on my back.

 

    He kissed my ear and my cheek and fell asleep on top of me.   I couldn’t get back to sleep.   I laid there all night thinking about what had just transpired.   My brother just fucked me, came inside of me, and possibly got me pregnant.   And strangely, I enjoyed it.   What began after that was several days of lucid, disturbing, lustful, indecent incestuous sex.   I had enough of my brother’s cum in me to fill a gallon jug.   Then, his vacation was over, and he went back to school.   His last words to me were, “I can’t wait to see what the third heart will look like. ”
 
To Be Continued.
.

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