And Mother Makes Three
I could clearly hear the squeak of bedsprings emanating from my daughter’s bedroom through the thin plaster walls of my bathroom. I knew she was being fucked because masturbation doesn’t make that much noise! However, I was surprised to find out that it was her brother who was fucking her. I had definitely heard her say, “Oh, yes! Scott, that feels so good.” I knew I wasn’t crazy, and the walls were not thick enough to have distorted her words that badly. No my children were involved in a sexual and incestuous relationship. It was a relationship filled with potential dangers if I didn’t take some action.
I padded barefoot down the hall to the door of Sharon’s room. I knew that I must catch them in bed together or all was lost. To wait until morning would only give them the opportunity to deny it all and try to convince me that I had finally gone over the edge. My dilemma was whether to wait until they were finished or rush in and catch them in mid-stroke. It was an excruciating choice, one I didn’t have to make as I listened to Sharon and her brother keening in harmony, signaling their completion.
I quickly made up my mind as how to handle the situation. I stripped off my nightie and opened the door. Before they could even begin to be surprised, I slipped under the covers with them and hugged them both to me. I could easily feel their fear washing off them in waves. The last thing any teenager wants is to get caught having sex by their parents, but when one is participating in incest the desire not to get caught is at least a hundred times greater.
“So what were you guys up to?” I asked in a voice that was light and carefree. It was not the voice of a parent, it was the voice of a concerned friend, which I was trying to be at that moment.
“Uh … nothing”, Scott choked. At nineteen years old he had the body of a man, but he still retained his boyish face; a face that constantly reminded me of his father.
“Well, it sure sounded like something to me,” I said, sounding light and chipper. The last thing I wanted to do was frighten them anymore than they already were. “A very good something,” I said.
“You mean you’re not mad?” Sharon asked suspiciously.
“Mad? why should I be mad?”
“Because we were screwing,” Scott said incredulously.
“You were not screwing,” I said indignantly. “You were making love. You were making love to your sister, whom I know to be a very lovable person,” I added as I hugged them both tightly to me.
“You mean you’re really not mad?” Sharon asked timidly, as if expecting me to turn into some type of fire-breathing monster who could melt stone with just a glance.
“Heavens, no! There’s nothing wrong with making love to your brother”, I assured her. “However, the important question is: What do we do now?”
“I guess we’ll have to stop,” Scott said, sounding as disappointed as a child who has learned there really is no Santa Claus.
“Oh, really,” I said unbelievingly. “And just how long do you think you’d be able to stick to your guns on that, especially if Sharon walked into your room one night wearing a skimpy little negligee and smelling yummy, and tried to convince you that I wouldn’t find out if you did it to her?” Scott didn’t answer; he just shrugged his shoulders as his mouth twisted into a thin line. “See. So abstinence is not an option.”
“So what is?” Sharon asked a little heatedly. “What are you going to do? Send me to a convent and Scott to a monastery?”
“No,” I laugh at her absurd suggestion. “That would only make God angry with me. I’m sure you’d have half the nuns transformed into raging lesbian nymphomaniacs before a month.”
“You know her too well, Mom,” Scott laughed, and it was a good sound to hear. “So what do we do?”
“We are careful,” I said. “The most important thing is to insure that you two are safe. And by that I mean: No one finds out you’re sleeping together, and Sharon doesn’t get pregnant. She’s too young to have a baby.”
“I’m eighteen,” Sharon protested.
“Exactly, and still in high school,” I retorted. “So starting tomorrow, Scott has to wear a condom, each and every time you two do it. At least until I can get Sharon safely on the pill.” They both agreed and pinkie promised. “Second, you are only ever allowed to fuck at home, in this house, nowhere else, and never when we have company without my express and explicit permission. And last, you are both to see other people.”
“I don’t want anyone else,” Sharon cried. I hugged her and kissed her brow.
“You don’t have to sleep with other boys, sweetheart, and I really hope you don’t. I’d rather not have it known around town that my little girl ‘goes all the way’,” I assured her. “But you must at least date other boys to carefully cover our secret.” I was a full member of this conspiracy. “We must give others the impression that you and Scott share a normal, whatever that means – brother/sister relationship, and nothing more.
Understand?” Sharon nodded, quietly.
“Mom, why are you taking this so well?” Scott asked. “Why aren’t you going ballistic or something?”
“My father didn’t go ballistic when he caught me with your Uncle Mike.”
“Grandpa caught you and Uncle Mike doing it?” Sharon sounded astonished. “Oh my God, this can’t be true.”
When I was eighteen, it was unseemly for women to be sexually active, yet I had a very strong inquisitiveness about sex. My brother, Michael, and I had been so very close that I knew I could ask him any question I had without fear. Everything I learned about sex I learned from Michael, and when I finally decided that I was ready to become sexually active, it was to Michael whom I give my virginity. He was so sweet and tender, everything a sexually naive girl could ask for in a first time. When he parted my legs and entered me for the first time, I was so filled with love for him I didn’t even feel the tearing of my hymen. I experienced orgasm after orgasm as we fucked on the rug in front of the fireplace in my father’s den, which is where my father caught us after we forgot to lock the door one time. My father completely understood the relationship between most brothers and sisters, especially when both were extremely attractive and filled with a zest for life. He had also shared some incestuous moments with all three of his sisters. He taught us the most important word about such relationships; discretion. My father’s main concern was that his children were all right and protected, and I wanted the same for my two.
I told all this to Scott and Sharon as they listened enraptured. “Well,” I concluded as I separated myself from them, “I’ll leave you two alone to your fun.” I was out of bed and halfway to the door before they stopped me.
“Mom,” Scott said hesitantly. “Well, Sharon and I thought you’d like to stay.”
“That’s sweet, darling, but I don’t think you guys need an old woman crowding in on your fun.”
“You’re not old!” Sharon said vehemently. “Besides, we know how lonely you’ve been since Dad died.” I was lonely. My husband had passed away five years earlier, and I had not been with a man since. I had compensated by doting on my children, giving them all the love and support I thought they needed. Now, they were making me the same offer.
“We love you, Mom,” Scott said as he tossed back the sheet and got out of bed. Naked, he walked across the room toward me. My breath caught in my chest because he looked so much like his father when we had married. The same slim chiseled form, identical all the way down to the light dusting of blond hairs on his tummy. He reached out a hand and gently caressed my cheek. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.” His touch was so sweet and loving I felt my heart melt inside me.
“Stay with us, Mother,” Sharon said as she came to me and grabbed my hand. She was so petite; she looked like a nymph or a fairy princess. She was slim and slightly boyish in front, yet there was a definite and discernible curve to her bosom and a flare to her hips. She was the image of the ultimate woman-child, innocent and pure, and so temptingly tantalizing. I could see why Scott had to have her.
Their eyes were so full of love as they looked at me, I knew there was no way I could refuse, even if I wanted to. “Thank you, my darlings,” I murmured and let them guide me to the bed. They laid me down in the center of it, one of them on either side of me.
“Let us love you, Mother,” Sharon whispered as she kissed me tenderly on the mouth.
“Let us take care of you, like you’ve taken care of us.” This from Scott as he kissed me also, this tongue flickered along the surface of my lips before I parted them and accepted him into my mouth. Scott is such a great kisser, just like his dad was. His tongue moved languidly in my mouth as it explored. It had been such a long time since I had been kissed that way that I immediately got wet. There was a special thrill about kissing my son because at that moment he ceased being my offspring and became a man, my lover.
My attention was drawn away from Scott’s exquisite kiss by an intoxicating sucking at my breast. I looked down to see Sharon nursing at my teat as she had done as a babe. She sucked insistently, yet softly, on my nipple as if expecting milk to flow freely. I ran my hands along the smooth contours of her torso until I touched her smallish breasts. They were so tiny that they fit neatly into the palms of my hands. The nipples hardened and I massaged them briskly between thumbs and forefingers, causing my daughter to moan against my bosom.
Scott dipped his head and suckled at my other breast. I could feel the blood pounding in my head as my children mouthed my tits. My empty had itched to feel Scott’s body, especially his hardness. My fingers closed around satiny hotness of his penis, and memories of my past life – when I was a sexually active woman – flooded my brain. I remembered holding Scott’s father, hard and warm in my hand. Scott’s erection pulsed in my grip; it throbbed so strongly I could have measured his heart rate.
“Oh, my babies,” I said softly as Sharon’s teeth closed gently on one nipple and Scott inserted his hand between my thighs. I felt a little self-conscious as his fingers made contact with the thick pubis covering my cunt. I usually kept myself smoothly shaved for my husband, but since his passing I had never thought I would allow another man to touch me there so I just let it grow. Now I regretted that I gave up the practice of shaving daily as my son’s fingers traveled through the tangles of my pubic hair. I wanted to feel the callused pads on his fingertips sliding across the silky smooth skin of my boobs.
Scott slipped his long, slender fingers into the center of my dampness. I felt the digits slide into me slowly, and I was so aroused my cunt spasmed around them in a minor orgasm. It was a tiny climax, yet it felt as if thousands of vibrating fingers were traveling along my spine. I cried out softly and Sharon silenced me with a kiss.
I clung to my daughter, kissing her hungrily and passionately. I could feel the flutter of her rapidly beating heart as she pressed her body against mine. I laid my hand along her flank and stroked the tight curve of her ass. She squeezed my nipples until I experienced a delightful pain and cried out. I traced the valley of her buttocks with a finger, slowly circling the puckered skin of her asshole.
Scott was moving on top of me now, spreading my thighs to reveal the steaming essence of my womanhood. I could feel rivulets of my feminine secretions running down the insides of my thighs and the crack of my behind. Not since my wedding night had I felt so much desire, or so desirable. I could actually feel Scott’s excitement like heat rolling off sun baked pavement in the summertime. Sharon reached down between our bodies and guided her brother’s cock to the yawning mouth of my sex.
With a slow lunge of his hips, Scott flawlessly entered me. “Oh, Mother,” Sharon whispered sensuously into my ear. “Doesn’t that feel good? Doesn’t it feel so filling?” she asked, but I couldn’t answer in anything that even remotely sounded like the English language. I babbled in some incomprehensible tongue as I was rocked by the extremely pleasurable sensation of being penetrated by my son. “Make Mother enjoy it, Scott,” Sharon instructed her brother. Luckily, he was one to follow orders explicitly.
I thoroughly enjoyed every stoke, every plunge, every withdrawal. Absently I wondered what woman had taught my son to be such a fabulous lover. She deserved a medal or at least my heart-felt thanks. He was so considerate and giving, meeting my every sexual and psychological need. The way he twisted his hips as he fucked me insured that his cock touched every inch of my internal walls as well as my clitoris. He was ten times the lover his father was, although I had loved his father with all my heart.
Sharon was again occupied with my breasts. She mashed my more-than-ample tits together, allowing her to take both nipples into her mouth simultaneously. Her tongue flicked between both rock-hard points of my teats like lightning during a thunderstorm. She sucked the entire areola into her mouth and lovingly chewed it. That was the last straw; between that and the exquisite friction Scott was eliciting between my legs, I was catapulted over the edge.
I cried out my children’s’ names as the shockwave of a major orgasm buffeted me. I wrapped my legs around Scott’s waist and levered my hips off of the bed to meet his thrusts. I pulled Sharon to me and kissed her with a passion and desire that I never felt for another woman before. My hands kneaded her pert buttocks, savoring the feel of those cottony soft orbs of flesh. My climax was so intense; I actually believed it would kill me. I didn’t believe it was possible for a person to sustain such concentrated pleasure and survive the ordeal. However, I did survive, barely. I survived just long enough to feel Scott twitch inside of me and fill me with his seed. It was at this point I developed a serious case of vertigo and passed out.
I awoke a few moments later to find myself nestled between the naked forms of my children. They kissed my face and brow tenderly. “We love you,” they said to me over and over again. “I love you, too, my darlings,” I answered them.
From that night onward Scott shared my bed with me, which caused a slight rift between Sharon and I. Before I began my incestuous affair with Scott, Sharon had exclusive rights to her brother’s attention. She didn’t have to worry about “sharing” Scott with any other woman. Sure, my son saw other girls while he was sleeping with his sister. However, once he walked through the door of our house he was hers and no one else’s. He never brought any girls home with him, and as far as Sharon was concerned the life he led outside our home had no connection to the life he led inside our home. Once I entered the picture, my daughter’s relationship with her brother, and with me, took on a new dimension.
I blamed myself, not because I was sleeping with Scott but because I subconsciously monopolized his time and attention. I would never hurt my daughter intentionally. I had been so long without a man in my life that I rejoiced in the romantic attention of my son. I sought to replace the husband I lost with his son, and my daughter’s lover. I didn’t think about the bond Scott and Sharon shared, or how deep her feelings for him ran. He was her first and only lover; he had taken her virginity which she had surrendered to him willingly and eagerly.
When I realized that my relationship with my daughter was suffering, and why, I quickly thought about how to make amends. One of my problems was I was more ready to accept Scott as a sexual partner, even though he was my son, and I was not quite free-spirited enough to do the same with Sharon. In my mind, Scott was just a man, a lover, no longer my son in the classic sense of the word. Whereas Sharon reminded me so much of myself that I could only see her as my daughter, flesh of my flesh, and blood of my blood. Yet, my love for her was so strong that I would do anything to make things right between us once again.
So, one night I sent Scott out to a movie explaining to him that I wanted to spend some time alone with Sharon. Immediately he became worried because he had sensed the tension that was building between us during the last couple of weeks. He probably envisioned some nasty scene with his mother and sister fighting over him like two crazed bitches. I assured him that everything would be fine, but that Sharon and I needed this time to work things out between us.
After he had gone, I put the finishing touches on the special meal I had prepared for my daughter and me. I made all her favorites; a nice Caesar salad, lasagna, and for dessert, strawberry cheesecake. I had brought a nice bottle of wine to go along with the meal. I put on some soft music and lit some candles, then called Sharon down to the table.
My daughter walked into the dining room and her jaw dropped to her chest in awe. “What’s going on?” she asked. “I know it isn’t my birthday.” I strolled across the room and put my arm around her shoulders and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “No, it isn’t your birthday,” I answered. “I just thought you and I would enjoy a quite candle-lit dinner for two.” I seated her at the table and served the food.
During the meal I explained all my feelings and shortcomings to Sharon and sincerely asked for her forgiveness. My little girl surprised me by acting with the surety and maturity of a grown woman. She understood how I could become so emotionally attached to her brother after my five years of emotional and sexual celibacy. And she believed me when I told her I never meant to hurt her.
After dessert we retired to the living room, where we reclined on the couch with our second bottle of wine. I leaned over and kissed my daughter tenderly on the mouth, slipping my tongue between her lips. She pulled at my shoulders crushing my lips against her own. I worked at the buttons of her blouse as she slipped the straps of my slinky dress off my shoulders. My pendulous breast spilled out just as Sharon’s tiny A-cups were uncovered. “Oh, Mother, your breasts are so beautiful,” Sharon said as she pulled on my nipples. “God, I wish I had tits like yours.”
“Why, darling? Yours are perfect,” I said in truth, and I secured my lips around an extended nipple. I teased the rubbery nipple between my teeth, making Sharon moan in pain/pleasure. I dropped a hand to her lap and inserted it under her short skirt between her legs. I was pleasantly surprised to find out my daughter was not wearing any panties. My finger fretted with the silky blonde hairs of her cunt before parting her lips and entering her. I slid three fingers into my daughter’s pussy as I rubbed her erect clit with my thumb.
“Yes, Mother! Finger me,” Sharon breathed, lifting her hips to meet my questing fingers. I pulled my daughter’s skirt clear to her waist as I laid her out on the sofa. I stared at her cunt, marveling at the way the hairs curled with her moisture. I lowered my head into the cleft of her sex and began tonguing her. She tasted very pungent, my daughter, with a slightly acidic undertone. It was strange at first, but I quickly found myself enjoying Sharon’s bouquet. Her tangy sweetness assaulted my taste buds as I licked her to orgasm.
“Yes, Mom! Yes,” Sharon cried out breathlessly. “Eat me, Mother. Oh, oh, I’m cummmmmmiiiinnnnnngggg!!” A clear, thin liquid filled my mouth as Sharon came with cataclysmic force. Her whole body shook and quivered as if she was suffering a seizure.
Later, she went to her room and returned with her secret cache of dildos. We inserted them into our every orifice, enjoying climax after climax. Sharon even penetrated my ass as she ate me to a mind-shattering orgasm. When Scott came home, we took him to my bed and fucked him until the small hours of the morning. We shared him equally.
From that day forward the three of us have been inseparable, we do everything together. I have even lubed up Scott’s cock as he took my baby girl’s anal cherry. Sharon and I have become more like sister/wives than mother/daughter, with Scott as our husband.
Right now, I am three months pregnant with my son’s child. Sharon was a little jealous at first; however, I promised her that Scott can put a baby in her as soon as she graduates college. She thought this too long to wait, so we compromised, she only has to go to a two-year junior college. She has only sixteen months more to wait, and I’m just as anxious as she is. Between the both of us, we keep Scott deliriously happy, which is how wives should keep their husband. All in all, we are the three happiest and luckiest people I know.

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