Incest
2004-03-02
ยงยงยง George wrote music where he was. Heโd listen to the jukebox at the bar, or, at home, to the radio randomly for melodies he wished he had written: jotting down words, phrases, changing whole hooks, verses, and themes to suit his tastes and mood, then incorporate them into guitar or piano โ and still more changes โ until heโd arranged anotherโs work into something completely different and that he could call his own, as far as copyright laws and awards ceremonies were concerned. Maggie edited his drafts for signs of life and marketability. They then together sang and harmonized and further arranged the sound until someoneโd buy it. Theyโd always done it this way. At the house, scribbling, and plinking or strumming through some confusion heโd created, the girls, home from their senior year at prep school โ behavioral science & psychology โ would take turns gleefully teasing their father with their newfound adult bodies and wiles, boldly wandering by in underwear that hardly qualified โ waiting on the laundry, or for their hair to dry โ and have a seat sideways in his lap, swinging an arm around his neck, setting their breasts under his nose and giving his lap a little grind โ โhi daddy, whatchya doin`, howโs it goin`?โ Maggie could see this, and was as much amused by her own small jealousy as she was by her Georgieโs helplessness โ what could he say? โIโm hard-up for my daughters โ make `em stopโ? While developing their undergraduate dissertation, itโs thesis was still unclear; any one of the girls alone wouldnโt dare their father for exploratory sex, but as a group โ The Coup, each alternately boss or baby-doll in their secret, fluid hierarchy โ the three of them could brave their ambitions and gang-up on daddy, objectively reasoning through and rationalizing, even justifying, their ambush as scholarly and clinical, however sexually charged: โHe wants to fuck us: whatโs it like to let himโฆto want to let him? Bad? โ itโs our ideaโฆwhy? โ weโre entitled to himโฆ and heโs got no real problem with it โ Oedipus wanted to screw his mother, but did his mother half mind the attention?โ Theyโd write the paper collaboratively, purportedly as pure theory, interviewing only each other and limiting their research to just the one sex act โ his fetish โ that daddyโd not refuse and would preserve their virginity in the traditionally strictest sense. Theyโll have changed the names and would deny everything, having since destroyed their notes. At least thatโs how theyโd sell it to mom; Maggieโd know better, but would appreciate the lie. ยงยงยง George was downstairs in the studio, where heโd be for the evening, so when Maggie came in on them in the den, it was now just the four females sitting around loopy and b. s. ing in that honest way the cold-sober cannot โ the girls passing the joint and a drink to her as usual, Maggie having had to hang up her โmommy hatโ a year or so ago; the girls had killed the video though, in mid-scene, when they had heard her at the door, and so it appeared they had been just hanging out in the quiet. Talk of anything else, as always, became talk of sex โ revealing, and, among themselves, comfortable and funny: they agreed masturbation was never awkward โ we donโt make mistakes with ourselves โ and their mother confirmed for her young daughters that a good fuck was always great, the virgins werenโt wrong to dream of it. โWeโve got pornโ they offered, and their mother thought this would be good: what did her daughters think hot? The flick resumed where it had been stopped, the two young people thrown in action. Maggie recognized her Georgie first, then a moment later the room โ this room โ and though she hadnโt watched the home movie in years, when the blondie he was sodomizing looked up, it would be her. And then there she was, in all her glory: her face red, splotchy, and her eyes unseeing, wildly looking inward at all her brother was doing behind her and her voice loud and inarticulate, out of control and a string of drool swinging from her lower lip โ a pure performance and no act, this was huge and she was into it. The Coup watched their mother watch; for a sure minute, Maggie observing her early self and making it plain she wouldnโt shy from this surprise.
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She paused the video, finally, rather than quit it โ all quiet and she and her twin brother a still blur as if caught in mid-air: boyish George forward into his tight sister and grimacing with the effort, all strain & tensility; young Maggieโs expression hard and as clean as a new dime, steely and exact; cheap awe and sweet misery, their hair everywhere โ a poster of the girlsโ parents at their best worst. Maggie turned to her daughters; she didnโt often blush. โSo. Whatโs this about?โ She really couldnโt say, but was not that surprised when they told her โ she suspected more to their flirting than mere tease; as were their parents, the girls always meant what they said and did what they meant. Some discussion, then all understanding and belief, after a time, and so the girls put on the movie again, their parentโs private archive; drinking beer, getting high, and Maggie and her daughters watched uncle dad despoil aunt mom in the ass โ seventeen years ago as now, illegal in all of Western Civilization, and, in the privacy of their domicile, the law not allowed to prove it. โIโll superviseโ she consented, and Maggie confided in them things that even the video didnโt reveal, and her daughters confessed some of their darker needs and curiosities, and they lowered the volume so they wouldnโt have to speak over the shrieks of the young woman onscreen. ยงยงยง The girls crouched listening at their parentsโ door that next evening, so far only the mist of light from a dim lamp inside โ wordlessly joking and speculating, eavesdropping for telltale talk and sounds: lengthy, low-spoken debate from within the bedroom, and then no talk and some small motions for awhile; then more agreeable speak and a moment of broader movement about: one of the stout straight-back chairs, missing from the dining room, dragged to the center of the floor, then nothing. George and Maggie, the girls knew, would never really get over themselves. Distrustful of their own intent, they were sometimes afraid of what they were and what each really wanted of the other โ he, sure he was only an incestuous shit keeping his pretty sister hostage, and she, just a brother-luvin` slut using his weaknesses to her advantage; heโd poke her too hard so she would bite him, sheโd scratch him so he would make her swallow too much; heโd spank her, sheโd hit him โ heโd force her so she would fight him and sheโd fight him so he would force her, and rough sex was just their own lovesick way with each other. Though more was expected, the girls still started at the first sharp cracks โ no voices yet, just the irregular flat smacks of big flesh; the girls knew of the paddle and the handcuffs โ and then the spanks coming steadily, faster, and finally their motherโs calls for more, demanding, as aggressive as was their fatherโs swing of the wood. But not always. Some evenings, their parents would retire early and not be seen or heard from again until the late news, reemerging after a couple of hours all sheepish smiles and unspoken satisfaction and affections โ happily and not a mark on either of them, tranquil and pleased with their simple lovemaking, if a little embarrassed with their easy joy. The girlsโd remark โgood?โ, smirking, and Georgeโd just say, โyes. very good, thank youโ period, and he meant it, and the discussion was over, and he meant that too. No sounds, suddenly, from behind their parentโs door, and in the brief quiet the girls caught themselves gasping in the still of the dark hallway.
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They heard whispers, their daddyโs, telling, to mommy, then, no less shattering than the spanking, their motherโs voice in the grave groan of penetration where it always hurt, if even a little; the girls were new, it would be a lot. They then began overhearing themselves referred to, breathlessly, by their mother, each in succession: โ โ โฆyou gonna deep-ass Ellieโฆ?โ โ โ and jam-fanny Gretchenโฆ?โ โ โ and fuck-butt Bridgieโฆ this faa-asst & haar-arrdโฆ?โthe sounds of their daddyโs sodomy of mom more vigorous with each mention of his daughtersโ names; he was thinking of them. The girls slipped back across the hall and watched their parentsโ bedroom from their own, staring at the closed door as though seeing through it: varying noises, randomly urgent and relaxed, only the girlsโ names and vulgar associations were intelligible, but all as understood as if living it. The nightly news was flickering in the corner when Maggie stepped robed into their bedroom without knocking and handed her daughters a quart jar of what looked like spoiled egg whites; globules hovered throughout and it was still hot and gross with life. โIt took three times to fill it; now drink upโ a pearl of which caught in their motherโs hair, another drop glistening from her face. Bridget passed the jar to Gretchen who unscrewed the lid and took a sniff; it smelled like nothing theyโd experienced and exactly like fresh sperm. Gretchen communicated some courage to her sisters, then took the first foul swallow: her fatherโs produce slid liquid like a slug down her throat and made her eyes water; Bridget and Eleanor followed suit, sewer-warm mouthfuls of the starch apiece, then Georgeโs potent virility swimming fertile in all his daughtersโ stomachs. Maggie hurried the girls to choke back the jarful without pause. โDid you fake?โ asking their mother, regarding the home movie, the orgasms. โIt was real. โ โSo weโll cum. โ A question. โDirty-talk helps; Iโll give him the go-ahead. โ โHeโs so cute, all shy and shitโ a safe, familiar tool: he loved his girls, and they knew it, and he was bothered with himself, and they knew that as well, gleefully so; Maggie warned them of what to expect from their father, detailing the moment theyโd be at his lustโs mercy, when sheโd just let them bear its brunt, as she had โ their first week back in class, if they werenโt careful, sporting a stitch and a hemorrhoid pillow โ and they were less cavalier with their folly.
โOh, were going to do this, ladiesโ Maggie ruled.
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She tossed them a towel. โHave this with you,โ and nodding toward the empty jar, โyouโll need it afterwards โ the first of you, especially. โยงยงยง โYou know youโll like it, so lighten upโ Maggie said, while the girls laughed in peals at their fatherโs fake if-requisite hesitance. He was glad for the glass in his hand; heโd need to be liquored-up. It was three evenings later, allowing chaste time for the girls to get anxious and for their daddy to replenish, a day for each daughter. George still appeared the worse for wear after the other night: fingernail scratches striped his throat and shoulders, and he wore a lump over one eye where Maggie had at one point clocked him โ when he was pinning her to the mattress, he thinks. George wore her marks as an announcement, a display of his worst character; but though the girls hadnโt forgotten their motherโs wails, his points scored on her however stayed secret, her warmed-over tushie and torn hole a matter between only them. Maggie knew no such guilt; she would not be ashamed of what she let George do to her โ itโs private, but not shameful. โItโs not always about you, daddyโ the middle one, Eleanor, added. โC`mon daddy, do usโ to the left of her, Gretchen, and โ โ yeah, weโve been bad girlsโ from the right, Bridget, and then more amusement. Maggie had dropped by the porn store earlier in the day. One of three bottles of designer sex oil she had bought for tonight lay to her right in the folds of the clean towel โ left to themselves, her daughters would have just dug up some Vaseline or Crisco. Maggie told the girls to choose which flavor theyโd prefer, and they had asked what difference did it make, tonight was about anal sex. Their mother told them that they would also be doing some oral and that it wouldnโt be foreplay โ theyโd have other tastes to contend with. They decided on banana, liking the innuendo.
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Bridget asked if there had been cucumber. โ โ and what, no oak?โ โ โ or steel?โ Ellie and Gretchen chiming in. George sat slouched on the sofa, his robe open and his prick reaching almost to his chest. The girls walked over to him and stood shoulder to shoulder with their hands behind them, as if each bringing him a small present, eyeing his big dick all giant for them. โNo hard feelingsโฆโ she said, and Ellie handed him another drink, scotch & ice. โFor before. โ Bridget handed him a cigarette โ pot โ and said, โFor after; save some, we may both need itโ and she winked. Preemptive peace offerings, George thought. He felt better. Maggie wasnโt let in on this stunt, and then realized theyโd all be alright; especially the girls, but even she. Gretchen waited; Maggie could see she held nothing. The girls looked at each other, then back at daddy. She then put out her hands, palms-up, empty: โNo condoms; for duringโ and George chuckled, thinking this clever of his girls โ and honest โ and expecting them to be as pleased with their smart wit; but they just smiled warmly at him and went back to their mother for further direction, turning from him and sashaying away the mere few steps for all they were worth. It seemed a shame: three small red triangles, at eye-level and accentuating more so than concealing perfect orbs of soft fat โ the kind of ideal derrieres a few lucky women keep naturally, not a day of sun or exercise to their credit โ his daughtersโ lazy round fannies; but no doubt other men would one day have these very beauties, and he might as well be first. โLine up, girls.
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โ George disrobed; now the only one of them wholly exposed, he finished his initial drink, then began downing the second.
Maggie stepped up close, handing him the sex jell and touching his erection. โI know what you like,โ an aside, off the record, โ โ go easy on themโ, and a reminding smile, gentle and warning; she and her brother were long friends with a surgeon down the block sympathetic to their โarrangementโ; heโd treated Maggie in the past, but had made George watch. The girls flipped coins, and three dimes spun in the air alike until coming to rest to single out one: two heads and a tails โ establishing who would go later, and who was to get done now. โStrip, Bridgie, and bend overโ and she was naked and knelt over on the couch before she was sure being first meant she had won. George pulled at himself behind her, oiling and polishing his cock, splashing lubricant between them, then began on Bridget abruptly enough โ plunging and corkscrewing his fingers to the knuckles less gently than he could of, jamming the flavored Go-Glide up her butt and then his thumb hooked into her and tugging all around. After enough of this, Bridget thought her fatherโd put his fist between her buns, until she felt him affix his hands โ both hands โ to her hips while the force in question remained in place. Then proceeded. โowโ as if maybe thatโs all it would amount to. Then โ*ow*โ again, not caring who knew and this being only the beginning. George closed in on his daughterโs ass: โow-ow-OOOWAAAHโ ever more pushing to a point, then constant pressure and holding. โBreathe, Bridgieโ Gretchen & Eleanor cooed to their sister, coaching, and Bridget continuing to yell; as she was sure he couldnโt be fit in, that theyโd have to try something else, her fatherโs lap then smacked flush to her seat โ the big stretch and a sudden pound less of available space within her โ and her buttfuck was fast underway, already a good number of full strokes in front of her grasp of it happening. A last clipped shout from her, and a brief, trembling silence โ Bridget plainly doggy-style and her father square behind her, George well ploughing as he had her mom in the home video โ then crazed hollers & squalls, Bridget baying to her sisters for help, that she couldnโt take it though heโd delivered to her by then already another dozen in as many seconds, the first fast moments of 20 more minutes the whole of which sheโd remember as individual strokes: pack-slap, pack-slap โ her buns shaken in short, jarring waves and as hard a ride as she would ever know, Gretchen and Eleanor witnessing this power-sodomy of their sister as as well their own fate. This was their daughtersโ show: romancing & affectionate, the free girls worked-up the one getting railed with improvised fuck-speak, two sisters buoying the burdened third with lusty reminders of their purpose to bask in this banging, her hole getting cored, and to prove it with an orgasm โ wallowing in the very twistedness of it all as a spotlight on the sheer sex of each thrust felt: dragging back & forth at her rectum, every inbound a ballooning rush inflated high inside, every outbound as forgiving as a good shit โ until their slight frames shook and pussies would cream as no masturbation could effect. Maggie stayed an audience of one, an uninvolved authority, and her brother, George, the father of these girls of hers, a trustworthy prop of which to make crude pits of his daughtersโ novice bottoms.
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George blew a soak of protein up Bridgetโs ass, then withdrew, and turning his daughter around he eased into her mouth and encouraged her to spend a minute longer doing what she hadnโt counted on and was of no empirical merit; a resigned minute of cleaning up the spermy, bowel-juice mess of own insides off her fatherโs prick for her sister next in line โ heโd have to re-lube for Gretchen, Bridget having left her fatherโs prick sterile of all but her saliva; and finished off, her backend limp & spent as a used condom, an understated โโฆwowโ was all she could say, mopping her buttcrack of trace bleeding and gouts of purged sperm. Gretchen had made a bed of the sofa cushions and was curled tight on all-fours, looking straight at the floor, her hair spilling around her head and hiding her face; pulling one cheek wide aside while gouged & poked, having seen Bridget so prepared without fanfare, Gretchen knew of her fatherโs fingers first probing, then his thumb pulling, and at last his hands placed and not his fist pushing; sheโd soon feel he was elbow-deep into her, and she put her hand back beneath her to hold fast to the floor. George looked down his daughterโs back, seeing her spine a ridged arch, her body a hard curvature of young muscle doubled-over & stone-solid, though her flourishing hips swelling round from her waist betrayed a burgeoning maturity โ his girls not-so ahead of themselves, their bodies not yet all-woman but their greed not at all a childโs; he pitched hard into her โ a wet creak and a brunt pat at her seat, like fucking a rock of flesh โ her rectum swallowing whole his complete meat in one vast gulp. Force-adjusted, it was Gretchen now loud for her sisters โ for more kisses and caresses, reinforcements of any sort โ and George spread his daughterโs pretty buns as far as theyโd part to watch her soft hole clutching and smoothly hooping in & out with every stroke of his prick and the brown-pink froth foaming at the edges of her anus, the same broth of which heโd made Bridget suck him clean. Gretchen squatting froggy, low and her knees drawn up under and wide aside her, her buns boldy pointed at her fatherโs crotch and leading with her rectum, like her mom in the island layout and living the photoโs design, bare-assed and being butt-pumped, the contrast between her daddyโs great gnarled sausage dividing her raw muffins and all-opening her as he had mom when she was her age, cannon-firing his cock solid up her butt โ explosion, recoil, and explosion again, spit bubbles and cooze, wet at both ends and her ass blasted for half-again longer as had her sister endured โ and Gretchen then felt lumps of hot paste adhere to her insides, her daddyโs spillage flushing through her, an organic slick thatโd take all night to drain off. And then Eleanor, on the floor as well, but lying face-down over one of the sofaโs large throw pillows, more restful and in for the better part of an hour, her fatherโs knees planted to either side of her hips and his ankles hooked over her legs, behind her knees and holding her immobilized and pinned in place; no prolonged push until he was let inside, as he had been with Bridget & Gretchen, his weight carried him into her just as she was readying to be entered and before her yell reached her throat, no more unbearable but less gradual the discomfort: a rigid pause, waiting for air, George already stroking through his daughter, and then a howl from her she thought stopped long before it did, nailing Eleanor to the floor through her fanny, sodomizing heavier the third of his daughters, drilling and feeling her squirm under him, she as if in search of an easier way to get fucked up her soft ass: ten whole inches of play along the length of her fatherโs cock and none of it free of its girth โ 3 inches wide and all too thick, whether shallow or shockingly deep. Eleanor was then knelt upright by her father, his hands clamped atop her shoulders: she could be seated no further down than her ass squashed flat, was let no more up than within an inch of out, then forced at the shoulders for the wide ride back into place; heโd manage only a smear of semen inside the last of his daughters and heโd make the most it, driving hard, leveraging her whole body onto him. Bridget & Gretchen knelt in front of Eleanor as she was bounced pogo-motion from behind, and Gretchen ventured too-affectionate smooches of her face and neck โ for both their sakes, Ellieโs titties jumping and jiggling โ and Bridget reached under Eleanor to finger her pie. Gretchen looked over at her, and Bridgie blushed, uncertainly smiling back at her sister, though her fingers softly remaining inside Ellie and getting results; Gretchen kissed Bridget on the lips โ nicely lingering, entwining tongues, both discovering this would do until the boys their age grew up โ now grinning easily again at each other, and then at Eleanor: goodwill & consent all around, and Bridget as sweetly smooched Eleanor in the same manner, their father still absorbed with reaming-running-roughshod up Ellieโs ass, and Gretchen put her fingers between Bridgetโs legs. The girls they then all three looked over at Maggie; sheโd at some point poured herself a large tumbler of wine and had been quietly seated off to the side, having a smoke, observing the action. She suddenly got their message and rolled her eyes and laughed, deeply blushing herself, and just said โโฆokโ, and then as cheerfully nervous as her daughters, โ โ tomorrow night. โ All got their remarkable mention โ Bridget, taking the first, biggest load, an entire pint enema; then Eleanor getting the last, longest ride, 40 minutes; and Gretchen, a good portion of both and set to her choice of music โ throbbing, bass-heavy rhythm and a free-form vague poetry, the drive of the tempo rather than the songsโ simple messages: electro-botic / techno-botic mechanical & dispassionate music you could attach your own meaning to because all it did was feel good. ยงยงยง(part 2 to followโฆ).
