In the year after Dad’s death, Mom was so miserable that she began to drink heavily, indulging in alcohol narcotics all day long, sometimes drinking all day long. I hated to see my mom drinking, especially when she was drunk, she always threw and hit, and drove away all the people around her, but she was only willing to let me stay with her, maybe because I was her son’s sake.
But anyway, the year after Dad went was the most difficult time for Mom and me.
Later, my mother gradually became more and more careless and casual, completely do not treat me as a man, not at all to avoid suspicion, know that by then I was already thirteen years old, already considered half an adult, know that there are a lot of inconvenience between men and women.
Since we don’t have locks on all the rooms in our house, it’s because the previous tenants took the locks with them when they left and we didn’t bother to change them, so we’re just a family, so why would we want to lock the doors like we’re burglars? But this way, mom or I can see clearly what each other do. She would often waltz into my room while I was changing clothes or taking a shower, stroll around for a while, and then leave again without saying a word of apology. Things like this happen all the time, and it’s embarrassing for me, and I don’t like it when mom is so casual.
Sometimes I can’t help but say a few words about my mom, and guess what she says? She always says, “What’s the matter? How can you be shy in front of your own mom? What part of you didn’t come from your mom?” So I had nothing to say.
And, of course, she was far too careless about how she should look as a mother, especially when she was drunk. She often walked around the house disheveled, sometimes changing her underwear and panties in front of me, with extraordinarily stretchy and generous movements. Whenever she was in the house, she didn’t like to dress properly and completely ignored me as a big man, walking back and forth in the room with her high breasts. What’s particularly outrageous is that when I’m in the bathroom taking a shower, brushing my teeth or combing my hair, my mom always kicks the door open with a bang, walks in, and then sits down on the toilet as if no one else is there to pee, not caring at all that I’m standing right next to her.
One afternoon I was lying in the bathtub taking a bath when my mom barged in again, I had seen it all before, and as usual we chatted for a while. Mom suddenly said she wanted to take a bath with me, I was taken aback, I looked at my mom, only to see that she was staring at me with her dark and shiny eyes, there was something I couldn’t understand flickering in her eyes, but her expression was very serious, I found it a little bit funny but a little bit embarrassing.
I reached out and tried to cover my body.
“Baby,” Mom sighed suddenly, “you’ve grown up too.”
She sat on the edge of the tub and took a sip of the wine in her hand.
“If your father were still here, he’d have told you something-something that all boys should know when they grow up.”
A little embarrassed, I said, “I know all about it, mom.”
I tried to digress from the awkward topic, but my mom smiled and continued to ask me, “What do you know?”
Mom’s question really hit the nail on the head, in fact, I know nothing about sex, all the knowledge about sex is from the school and classmates and some boys like to talk about the topic of sex, for sex, I only have a vague understanding. I only have a vague understanding of sex, so I can’t tell you why.
“Have you ever seen a girl’s body?” Mom continued to ask me in a mocking tone, as if she was trying to embarrass me.
In fact, Mom is the only woman I’ve ever seen naked, but of course I can’t say that to Mom, I can only honestly say I haven’t.
“Do you know where the little baby came from?”
Mom’s questions became more and more revealing, I felt very embarrassed and embarrassed, mumbling and unable to answer, and in my heart, I only hoped that mom would quickly leave, so that this embarrassing conversation could end. But mom had no intention of leaving at all, instead, she stood there somewhat proudly, looking at my embarrassed appearance, as if she found this very interesting.
She set the bottle of wine in her hand aside, took the bonsai used as a display in the bathroom off the stool she’d planted it on and rested it on the floor before dragging it over to the tub and taking a seat beside me, facing me.
Mom looked very casual as usual, her legs spread wide.
Unlike the average woman who covers her vital parts with her skirt when she sits down, mom likes to show her bottom on purpose and loves the look on my face as I stare at her secret place. Mom wasn’t wearing panties underneath, and I could clearly see the dark area between her legs.
Mom continued to do what surprised me as she unbuckled her belt and opened the robe on her body. Naturally, Mom didn’t have anything as superfluous as a bra underneath, so I could feast my eyes on her slightly bulging belly and the huge pair of breasts on her chest.
I was a bit shy, after all, looking directly at my mom’s body was a bit emotionally untenable, I tried to avert my eyes, but my eye kozo couldn’t help but flick back and forth over my mom’s snow-white, plump breasts and the dark area below her belly.
“You should know these things, and it’s mom’s duty to show you what women are all about.”
My eyes still darted unfaithfully over my mom’s body, and it was only when I heard her words that I looked up fondly and came face to face with her.
“Very well,” Mom said with a smile, pleased with my reaction, “I want you to take a closer look at Mom so you can understand what’s going on in a woman’s body.”
With that, she got down on her knees, pushed up her lower body, and brought her body up to my face so I could get a better look.
Mom’s skin was very white; in fact, we never went to the beach to enjoy the sunshine, and Mom used to wear sweatshirts and long skirts and often wore a hat when she went out on the street, so her skin was especially fine and fair.
The underside of mom’s belly was full of dark, oily, shiny, fine, but not thick enough, pubic hair that surrounded her plump pussy and extended all the way down to the vicinity of her anus. Mom’s pussy was large, which I was well aware of because I read pornographic magazines from time to time with pictures of naked women, and by comparison I knew that Mom’s labia were quite fat and her pussy was very open.
“This is Mommy’s pubic hair,” she said, running her fingers through the dark hairs on her lower back and rubbing up a small strand to show me how wonderful they were, “of course, yours could be called that, and, look, this is Mommy’s pussy.”
Her hand gently stroked back and forth over the wonderful, slightly bulging spot on her lower body, a mysterious place that I had never touched before but desperately wanted to, having only had a preliminary impression of it on videotapes and pornographic publications, but now it was literally in front of me.
“Here, here, behold, look here,” Mom explained the secrets of her body to me in a little bit of detail, “These are the labia, they’re pretty, aren’t they? It’s still got hair on it.”
Mom spread her legs as wide as she could, as if she was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to see her pussy clearly, and at the same time, she used her hand to prop open her fat pussy lips, revealing the red world inside her pussy.
“See that little piece in there, that’s the labia minora, most people call it the inner pussy or inner lips, and some women’s inner lips can be so big that sometimes they stick out.”
I looked curiously at my mom’s pussy, it was all familiar and strange to me at the same time, I had only imagined it in pictures before, but now it was all so real.
But I was a little afraid in my heart, and stole a glance toward the door, fearing that someone might burst in and capture us mother and son on the spot.
But, frankly, I’m very aroused inside right now, not just physically, but I’m terrified that I could actually have such unclean and nasty thoughts about myself.
Mom’s lower body was so close to me that I could almost smell the faint odor emanating from there, an odor that felt rather odd, not very strong or unpleasant, kind of like mushrooms, but exciting.
Mom continued to show me her inner workings, specifically pointing out the location of the clitoris.
“Here, see? Here, a little inside.” Mom pointed, but I really didn’t want her to tell me the secret of female genitalia so clearly and unambiguously, in which case I’d have a very hard time in the future, and I’d probably go crazy thinking about this place every day.
“Men always like to stick their cunts in here, and it’s called a vagina. Men stick their cuntal eyelashes in there and then they sow the seeds of love, and if conception is successful, a little baby is born, and then the little baby comes into the world through this.”
I laughed out loud, feeling rather funny, I couldn’t believe that a baby that big could come out of such a small hole, but my mom affirmed to me that it was true and that this is where I came out.
“Stick your finger in and try it.” Mom encouraged me.
She guided my fingers into her pussy, letting me feel the warmth and moisture there.
I can’t describe the feeling of my fingers in my mom’s pussy, it’s beyond my vocabulary. I can only roughly say that it was as if my fingers were squeezed into a pile of cotton, but the warmth and wetness was like soaking in a tub full of hot water, and it was incredibly intoxicating.
Mom didn’t let me stay mesmerized and guided my hands all over every part of my lower body again, allowing me to fully feel the secrets of the female body.
I was very curious as to why my mom’s pussy continued to ooze out, and she was very patient in explaining, holding her pussy lips wide open to show me the secrets inside her vagina.
“See? There’s a lot of wrinkles in there, that’s called a labia band, but there are some women who don’t have them. How’s that for a rather interesting feeling?”
There was a different kind of excitement in viewing my mom’s sex organ, two completely different sensations from reading a magazine; the latter was merely curious, but the former had the full allure of sex.
My genitals were fully erect without me realizing it, and even though I was still very young and my dick hadn’t fully grown yet, the straight, flaccid cuntal cilia were stubbornly sticking out of the water.
Mom caught a glimpse of it and an indiscernible smile played at the corner of her mouth as she reached out and gently took hold of my dick.
Mom’s fingers gently stroked my dick and occasionally fiddled with my scrotum.
“Do you know why it gets hard? It’s natural, it’s human instinct, when a man gets excited, his genitals get bigger and harder like this because it wants to get inside a woman’s vagina–well, that feels really good.”
I flinched a little at first when mom touched my dick, but the feeling of her hand stroking my cunt-lash was so awesome that I soon made my peace with it.
“Did you used to do what Mommy did when you got hard?” Mom asked.
I nodded, the truth was that I masturbated a lot and the object of my fantasies still tended to be my mom.
“You don’t have to do this, it’s not good for your health.”
I don’t know why Mom said that, because I know that almost every man in the world has masturbated at one time or another, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with masturbation, but Mom insisted that I didn’t have to do it at all.
“Come out,” said mamma, “you’ve been in the water too long, and your hands and feet will be dried plums if you keep soaking.”
I thought Mom was going to take a bath herself, but instead she pulled the stopper out of the tub and drained the water, then she helped me get clean, but then she wouldn’t let me put my clothes back on, instead leading me to her bedroom.
“Now, little baby, let mommy teach you how to communicate with a woman.”
“Teach me!?”
I wondered if I had misheard, my breathing almost stopped: Mom was talking about teaching me that!
I was suddenly a little scared.
I had heard stories of mother-son incest before, and I had always thought that was the nastiest, most despicable and shameless thing a human being could do, but whenever I heard those stories, I had an unspeakable feeling of excitement and thrill, and inwardly I was one hundred thousand percent willing to entrust myself completely to my mother, because I had always trusted her, and she was right in everything she did.
I don’t know what mom really wants from me, if it’s just sex, I think it’s not necessary to go through me, because mom is not that old, and she’s not that ugly, so I believe that it’s not that difficult to hook up with a man to relieve the itch, but now she’s saying that she wants to teach me to do something secret between a man and a woman. I really don’t know what mom is thinking, but I know I can’t refuse her invitation.
Mom took off her coat and then took my hand.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she reassured me, “you’ll like it, any man would, it feels good ooh.”
To me, my mom is really a perfect woman, not too tall, not too short, not too fat, not too thin, and just the right age, although she is not the kind of beauty that everyone calls her, but her upright and familiar appearance has really aroused my desires, and her lightly swept eyebrow as well as a pair of sharp and thin sharp eyes are enough to arouse my full of desire.
As soon as I picked up my mom, I put her on the bed.
“Are we going to have a baby?” I asked.
“Oh, no,” Mom said, “but when you and Mom go through it, you’ll understand how to make a girl have a baby.”
Then she asked me to kiss her, which I did.
“No, that’s not it, look at me.”
Mom corrected my incorrect kissing maneuver by sticking her soft tongue out and gently hooking it around mine, then the two tongues entwined while Mom sucked hard, her tongue stirring in my mouth so hard it almost had to tick me off.
I had never heard of the proper way to kiss and looked a little busy. Mom giggled and told me to do the same as her. I tried to stick my tongue out as well, and mom immediately took my tongue and gently sucked on it, and I couldn’t help but suck hard on mom’s fragrant juices as well.
Mom’s breath was sweet and welcoming, the hot breath from her nose sprayed evenly across my face, tickling and soothing, her perfumed zest with a hint of lemonade, a tantalizing smell.
I found that I liked the way the kissing was going, I liked the mouth-to-mouth exchange and the feeling of both of our tongues entwined.
One of mom’s breasts was pressed against my bare chest, and she grabbed my other hand and pressed it against her other side. Of course, I had never actually touched a woman’s naked breast before this, that had only been in my dreams, so Mom’s was the first one I had ever touched.
Mom was only thirty-five years old and didn’t look old yet, but, at such an age, the transformation of the body couldn’t be fooled. Her nipples were already a little dark, and although they were very full, they had begun to sag a little. Her hips were getting rounder and fuller, and her belly was a bit raised due to having given birth, but her limbs were soft and firm.
In any case, Mom’s body was still quite well-proportioned; she had little fat around her waist and soft lines, and her thighs in particular were still firm and elastic, indicating a body in the throes of maturity.
“Get on top of mommy.” Mom said.
She spread her thighs wide and I climbed on top of her, poking my hot rod into mom’s belly.
She told me to lift my body up, then reached down and grabbed my dick. I could feel my mom’s warm hand tugging my dick to that one nectar, gently rubbing it against the hairy pubic hair, and after a few moments of rubbing, my glans met a soft, warm mass, and I knew that my glans was against my mom’s pussy door.
I felt a wave of giddiness as I was about to enter a new, new world that would be a new beginning in my life, and although I didn’t know what lay ahead of me, right now, all I knew was that I was about to become a real man, and that this coming-of-age ceremony was going to be officiated by my mom.
Mom lifted her legs up and wrapped them around my waist, then her hips lifted upward, and before I hardly realized it, my dick had slipped inside Mom, and all of a sudden, my whole body, along with my nerves, tensed up.
I finally got in! That’s all that’s left in my head.
The bathroom door was still open, the sound of dripping water came from the room, the house was silent and mom seemed to have stopped moving, only our lower bodies were tightly connected.
I felt the beauty of the moment, my dick pulsing under the warmth of my mom’s embrace, and an indescribably cozy feeling came over me. I slowly relaxed my taut nerves and my body loosened up, gradually getting used to this strange, strange feeling. I gently moved my body, feeling the hairs under my mom’s belly rubbing against my stomach, while my dick gently rubbed against the walls of my mom’s fleshy hole, and a rush of excitement went straight to my head.
“Yes, baby, move it.” Mom moaned and began to encourage me to do what men are supposed to do.
Without Mom’s urging, without her telling me what to do, without her explaining to me again how wonderful this was, I jerked myself harder.
Mom’s pussy wasn’t very tight, maybe it was because my dick wasn’t old enough, and my pumping was hardly hindered too much, but the thrill I got from the grinding of flesh against flesh was intense.
Mom seemed to respond to my movements as well, her body twisting and turning in an effort to meet my thrusts.
We went on like that for about twenty minutes and then mom asked me to keep an eye on the parts of our bodies that were connected while I pumped.
I bounded up and looked at my mom’s pussy as I pushed hard in and out of her.
Mom’s pussy was now a mess, slick with wet lust, her fat pussy lips flopping in and out with the momentum of my rod going in and out, along with the surrounding pubic hair curling together and wrapping around my rod, squeezing in and out.
I used my hand to prop open my mom’s pussy, pulling the two pussy lips apart hard so that I could clearly see my meat stick moving in and out of her blood red meat hole. It was an extremely lascivious sight, the flesh hole was red, the four walls were crinkled and layered, sucking my dick tightly, and every time I withdrew my rod, I could see the water oozing out of the flesh walls with it.
Oh, is this sex? It feels so good!
I was thrilled by what I saw and felt, fueling my desire to conquer even more.
My movements became more and more furious, my mom’s body trembling uncontrollably from the onslaught, her belly rippling as I pushed in.
I held on for a while, and finally couldn’t help but ejaculate in my mom’s body, this was the first time in my life that I really ejaculated, it felt completely different from masturbation, it was unusually smooth and extraordinarily prolific.
I waited until I was quiet before I collapsed onto my mom’s soft body.
Mom didn’t stop me when I ejaculated or let me cum outside, she just moaned and groaned as she pushed up her lower body to meet my emission. It was only when I finished my virginity that mom complimented me on how well I did, and it seemed like mom didn’t mind me cumming inside her.
Mom stood up, planted a soft kiss on my lips, and then went to shower herself.
Two days later, my mom asked me again if I still wanted to communicate with her, and of course I said yes, how could I not?
That’s what I’ve been dreaming about for the past few days and have been eating it up, but I don’t have a door in my face if mom doesn’t initiate it, and now of course I’m begging for it.
Right away, we did it again in mom’s bedroom.
In the weeks that followed, our relationship just continued, always coming around so many times two or three times a week.
I remember one night I asked my mom for sex again.
Right now all I could think about was having sex with my mom, nothing else mattered, it was more important to me than anything else to snuggle up in her warm embrace and have a place for my hungry dick to stay.
I think I’ve become addicted to sex and I don’t love my mom quite the same as I used to. I love my mom now more than ever, not just as a mom, but as a grown woman.
But when I said the request to my mom, she seemed content and happy.
She put her arms around me hard and told me that I should love her merely as a mother, and that she would be very upset if I just treated her as a woman who vented her sexual desires, and that she would feel that she was not doing her duty as a mother teaching her child, because it was her duty to instruct me in this area of sexuality.
Since we had our close contact, mom stopped drinking and neither of us talk about her past where she used to drink anymore, but I know it must have taken a lot of effort for mom to do so, after all, habits are hard to break, and without the help of this relationship between us, I’m sure she’d still be a full blown alcoholic.
Then we started sharing the same bed every day.
About two weeks or so after our first time, I noticed that my mom was acting in ways I didn’t know she was when she was having sex with me. She started screaming and gasping loudly as I worked on plowing into my mom, and her body reacted very violently at that point.
For those of you with experience, of course you know what’s going on, but I don’t. All I know is that my mom is happy, and so am I.
I remembered that I felt good the first time we did it, but mom didn’t react as violently as she did now, so it seemed that something unusual was going on between us.
I asked my mom what was wrong with her, and she said, “You made my mom orgasm.”
When I realized what was going on, I was very proud of myself because I knew I was really old enough to bring my mom real sex.
My mom began to teach me more about sex, and together we worked out how to make each other happier, how to make us last longer, or how to make our timing work better together. We tried all kinds of positions and ways of making love that we could think of, which greatly enhanced the pleasure of our sex life. Mom often used her sexy mouth to service my dick, and I learned to use my tongue to bring mom to orgasm, and we became more and more in tune with each other.
But one thing that puzzled me was that when I asked my mother about marrying her when I grew up, she refused, saying that if I married my own mother then I would never be a real man for the rest of my life.
Mom was very stubborn on this point and completely ignored my burning feelings.
Then something happened that Mom had tried to avoid – she got pregnant, even though she was very careful.
The pregnancy literally freaked my mom out, I think if abortion was easy to do back then she would have done it a long time ago, luckily for her she didn’t have that opportunity.
Mom was worried all day that the baby that was born would be a deformed baby, and we had to move because of her pregnancy. Dad had been dead for about two years by then, and mom never dated other men, so if others saw mom with a big belly, they would have suspected me, so we had no choice but to leave.
We moved to California and my sister, Jessie, was born in our new home.
What God needs to be thanked for is that Jessie is healthy and now she teaches grammar in a middle school and is very happy with her life, has her own family, and has her own children, but she doesn’t know that I am her father.
Of course, that was all later.
We moved and life settled down fairly well, and by the time I got to college, I was lucky enough to get into one of the most prestigious colleges on the West Coast, so we moved again, and my mom bought a house in the neighborhood of the school.
Although we still loved each other, Mom insisted that I live at school and minimized our sexual contact. It was hard for me for a while at first, but everything Mom did was for me and she knew what was right.
Later, I met my wife, Clara, at school, and Mom loved her, especially after her grandchild was born.
But then misfortune struck mom, she was killed in a traffic accident, that was thirty years ago, and two days before her accident, we made love once, and I can’t believe that was our last time.
I love my mom so much, she is a competent and loving mother as well as my first woman.
I love her so much and miss her.
For a long time after my mom’s death I was depressed, and I found that the only thing that could make me happy was my sister Jessie. She looked so much like her mom, and as each year passed I saw more and more of her in my sister. But I knew my mom wouldn’t want what happened between us to happen to her daughter, so I just enjoyed being with her, looking at her face, listening to her voice, and imagining my mom in my mind, which helped me get rid of a lot of loneliness, and gave me some comfort that was better than nothing.
But then, with thoughts of my mother increasingly tormenting me, I began to have unclean thoughts about my sister, and I longed for yet another incestuous story to unfold between me and my sister as my mother had done.
I tried to get closer to my sister, I never thought there was anything wrong if something intimate happened between us that would surprise the world, but I wondered what my sister would think about this, from her point of view she was a cultured woman, and as far as I could tell my sister was quite traditional, even a bit conservative, and especially obsessive about this aspect of sex. I can imagine how she would react when I tried to molest her. She would have thought it was a horrible thing to do, and would have hated my brother for the rest of her life.
But I had completely transferred my love for my mom back to my sister, and I was so eager to possess her that I was worried that I would one day do something stupid to her, and I didn’t want to lose the respect she had for me. But I had indeed become mesmerized by the intense desire for my sister, and I knew I needed her, but I couldn’t do that. If I had any conscience I should stay away from the house, I can’t interfere with my sister’s life, but I know it’s impossible to ask me to leave.
My roots are in this place, I’ve lived here for decades, I can’t just leave – but how should I face my sister? How can I explain to my wife? I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future–oh, no, it’s better if nothing happens, I won’t let it–but really–?
Oh, God– it’s good that Mom’s here!
I miss my mom!
A few months ago, I posted an article about the passage of my sweet first experience with my mom as a teenager, which was partly in honor of my beloved mom and partly as a way to get rid of my infinite thoughts.
Due to longing for my mom for a long time, I finally developed immoral thoughts about my cool sister Jessie.
As you may recall, Jessie was the product of incestuous love between my mom and I. Nominally she was my sister, but in reality she was my daughter.
Mom died in a car accident thirty years ago, that brought me and our family a long time of pain, I clearly remember how much I was in pain at that time, sometimes even thought of death. Fortunately, time washes away everything, and now I’m starting to get older, but my love for my mom is getting stronger and stronger.
Of course, Jessie is now middle-aged.
She is now a very ordinary high school teacher, forty years of age, serving in the community in which we live, with a happy and contented family, and two children–a boy and a girl, both now of course of age.
Mom and I have always tried to prevent our dysfunctional relationship from affecting Jessie’s upbringing, so now Jessie is a very traditional woman, and of course, there’s no way she could have known that I, her abnormally trusting big brother, was actually her biological father.
We were very close and affectionate, but I have no doubt that if she had known about all the nasty thoughts I had been having about her for so long, she would have been horrified and in turn rejected my demands, as she was always a traditional woman, and it was hard to ask her to do something out of the box, especially at her age.
I’m so disappointed in myself, I miss my mom like crazy, and now, I can’t do such a horrible thing to my sister, and I’m so afraid of losing her love and respect for me from now on that I’m literally going crazy.
But, things are always unpredictable.
School was on vacation every June, when my sister and I would have the opportunity to meet every day.
I own a company that runs fairly well, so I’m basically semi-retired, and I’m happy to be free since I’ve already entrusted the company’s business to someone who manages it anyway.
My wife is a lawyer and she loves her job, but the lawyer’s work takes up so much of her time that we see each other rather little, and I’m alone most of the time.
My sister’s husband was a regional agent and was away from home for long periods of time due to his business.
This, quite naturally, resulted in my sister and I spending significantly more time together, especially during school vacations.
One morning I got up early because I had promised my sister that I would drop her two children off at the station, where their grandparents had invited them to join them for a vacation on a luxury yacht, which is pretty much a mandatory annual program that takes about two weeks.
On the way there, the siblings complained that they weren’t young enough to have much fun attending such gatherings, but I knew that they were actually looking forward to the opportunity of such a trip, as their grandparents, a pair of gentle but enlightened elders, would surely get along well.
When I had sent them away, I began to wonder what we should do to pass the time now that my sister and I were alone in the house. I saw a very nice display of flowers in the florist’s store by the station, so I chose a bunch of red peonies, intending to give them to my sister, who was now waiting for me at home, and who had promised that in return for my taking her children to the station she would prepare a breakfast for me.
When I arrived at my sister’s house, she had only just gotten up a short while ago and was still in her pajamas. When I flashed the bouquet, my sister obviously didn’t expect me to send her flowers and looked surprised, but then expressed her surprise and gave me a passionate kiss that made me a little wistful and almost made a fool of myself.
I sat comfortably on the dining table, cozying up and enjoying the coffee that my sister had made for me by hand, while my eyes stared at my sister’s hidden torso in her pajamas. Her face was a little puffy, her hair was messy, and she had no makeup on, so it was obvious that she had just woken up from a nap and hadn’t had time to freshen up.
However, I think she looks better like this, petite and cute, like mom, back then, some time after dad’s death, mom was this image. However, the difference is that my sister’s eye kozo is big and dark, but the rest of her is practically from the same mold as mom’s, with her fair skin, trimmed straight nose, and sexy lips, she’s practically a replica of mom’s.
As I ate, I took a closer look at my sister’s round, plump buttocks, beautifully rounded ankles, and the curves of the bulging pair of breasts, as the saying goes.
We chatted as we ate, and when we were done, my sister cleared the table, and I picked up the newspaper and pretended to read it, but in fact was secretly admiring the wind in my sister’s sexy body as she wriggled in her clothes.
My sister, who seemed to care a great deal for the flowers I had given her, picked up the peony I had given her, carefully removed the wrapping paper that had been wrapped around the root lashings, and then laid it on the table, and stomped up a ladder by herself in an attempt to bring down a vase that was sitting on the closet, but as she reached the top she suddenly cowered, a pained expression appearing on her face.
“What’s wrong?” I was busy standing up and walking quickly behind her.
“Oh,” she groaned, “my back hurts, it’s been two weeks and it doesn’t even seem to be getting better, am I getting old?”
“Well, be careful and let my brother give it a look.” I said with concern, reaching out, pressing down on her waist and carefully helping her down the ladder.
My sister filled the vase with water, put the peonies on with care, positioned them, looked left and right, and was satisfied before placing the bouquet squarely in the center of the table.
“Careful, how’s your back?” I asked, “Where does it still hurt?”
“Oh, it’s right here, but it’s much better now.” She put her hand behind her back and pointed to an area just below her shoulder blade, telling me that’s where it hurt, and I busily reached out to massage her heartily.
“Oh, there’s a little lump there.” She whined.
“Yes, there’s a little piece of something, and I see you’re having a little muscle spasm, so let my brother give you a massage.”
“Thank you, brother.” My sister gave a thank you, “I was going to go see the doctor.”
“You do need nursing,” I smiled, “let brother give you a body massage, brother is good at that oooh.”
“It’s an amateur, I guess.”
“That’s right, my one loves it when I give her a massage.”
My sister laughed and we went into her bedroom together, I went to the bathroom to get a towel while she sat on the bed and waited for me.
I took a towel off the hanger and stopped by the medicine cabinet for a bottle of topical alcohol, then returned to my sister and gestured for her to take off her clothes.
My sister wasn’t wearing a bra inside, so she told me to turn my head.
By the time I turned my head, she was bent over the bed, her breasts buried so whole in the fluffy sheet that I couldn’t see them, and the robe that had been covering her had faded to her ass.
The curves of her sister’s back were quite beautiful, her skin was pale and smooth, and she didn’t look flawless.
As I ran my hand up it, I felt a little uneasy and my hand couldn’t help but shake a little.
“Oh, it’s cold!”
When I rubbed the alcohol onto her back, she fell back on her heels.
I mindfully massaged her back, rubbing her sore spot with my thumb in sudden light and heavy strokes.
“Ouch, brother, that hurts!”
She protested my rudeness.
I ignored her protests and continued to rub hard with my thumbs until I felt her body begin to relax and her muscles loosen up, then I slowly reduced my force and my sister stopped complaining, instead her body went limp on the bed, a picture of comfort.
“Now,” I said, “know I’m not lying to you? I know what to do to make you happy, and brother will massage your body again, okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
My sister didn’t say anything, just grunted a few times.
I saw that she didn’t object, so I began to mindfully massage her body. First her back, I gently pressed my palms against my sister’s soft and smooth spine and stroked it gently, my sister just kept her head down, letting out occasional tiny gasps through her nostrils.
My sister’s skin is delicate and silky, excellent to the touch, soft as bone, I was unanticipatedly a little excited, but in my heart there was more jealousy and hatred for her husband, I know that over the years, my sister’s husband seems to know only his own obligations to the family, but seems to have forgotten the obligations due to his own wife, always busy working and leaving my sister alone in the house, so that she is alone in the house.
I lamented my sister’s misfortune, but what could I do, I could only give her some external and irrelevant comfort when such an opportunity presented itself. I delicately rubbed my sister’s naked spine, my palms running tenderly over the smooth skin before slowly working my way upwards, caressing her soft shoulders, where she self-consciously parted the hair that hung over her shoulders so that I could continue to caress her neck, shoulders and arms.
Of course, my sister just felt my gentle movements, but she didn’t realize that my body was already reacting badly when I did that, and that some part of my body was already in a state of extreme arousal.
I tried to be more professional in my movements while massaging her, but my hands were out of control and my movements seemed a bit fluky, but luckily my sister didn’t perceive anything special about my movements, instead she felt comfortable with them.
Her body had gone completely slack, her whole body was sprawled out on the bed, and her eyes had closed, only a soft humming sound coming from her nose.
I regained some of my confidence, shook myself off, and continued to massage her body.
“Does it feel good?” I asked.
“Well–yes, it’s good.” She mumbled, as if her body had completely fallen apart and she didn’t bother to move a bit.
At that point, I suddenly got bold and violently lifted her robe and tossed it aside.
She tensed up all of a sudden and lifted her head, turning to look at me.
What was the look on her face?
Is it shock?
Doubtful?
Confused?
Or obedience?
I’m not sure, it seemed like every single one of them flashed across her face, and then she rested her head on her arm and snickered foodily as if she had some understanding.
My sister was wearing a pair of white panties that strangled her plump hips, her rising buttocks sticking up high as if they were going to burst through the narrow panties. Her round thighs looked a little flabby, and at the junction of her thighs and buttocks, she squeezed out a crease that showed more and more of the plumpness of her sister’s lower body.
I started massaging my sister’s feet.
“Mom used to make me do this all the time,” I said, lifting my hand and sniffing my fingers, “the smell reminds me of Mom.”
My sister was silent.
I lifted my sister’s foot so that it rested on my leg and gently rubbed her ankle, arch, and ball of her foot, then began to massage her calf harder.
My sister’s legs were certainly no longer as delicate and elastic as those of a young man, but to me they were still as beautiful and highly feminine and mature.
After stroking my sister’s calves, I lowered her legs down and spread them apart so I could see the bulge of her private parts surrounded by her white panties.
My sister still had her eyes closed kozo, but it was a little different from earlier when she was cozying up to my service, and the atmosphere became a little more subtle.
Her body was no longer as relaxed as it had been in the beginning, I could feel her body tense up a little, and from these slight tensions I could tell that my sister was a little aroused, and she buried her head in her arms so that I wouldn’t see her expression.
I felt a little confused, just ten minutes ago I would never have thought that my sister would be lying on the bed, letting me touch her body as much as I wanted, and now it was all so natural.
I know that this is a critical time, and if my sister allows me to do what I want to do, then it is highly likely that the wish I have longed to fulfill will be granted.
I tentatively began to stroke her soft thighs.
Working both hands simultaneously, I circled her thighs, massaging them hard while slowly spreading them wider and wider.
My hands became more and more wanton, stroking my sister’s thighs with complete abandon, while my palms got closer and closer to her panties.
My sister seemed indifferent to my wantonness, just burying her head deep in her arms, I couldn’t see her expression, but her breathing had begun to catch, and I could almost hear her heart beating more and more violently just like mine.
I couldn’t hold back my heart’s lust, and with a hot head, I reached down to my sister’s private parts and pressed my palm against the soft, warm, grave-raised area underneath the thin panties.
My sister’s body shuddered, but it didn’t stop my sudden attack.
With my other hand, I unzipped my own pants and pulled out my long-suffering dick as soon as I could, then pressed it against my sister’s ass.
My sister came to her senses at once, panicked and opened her eyes kozo, a glimpse of my sinewy dick filled her eyes with fear.
“Oh, no, no, brother, don’t! Stop–you can’t–we’re brother and sister, we can’t–“
She gasped, trying desperately to get out of my grip.
I ignored my sister’s protests and pressed my body against hers, then reached out and stroked my fingers to her privates, lifting her panties out of the way, then carefully pushed aside the thatch that was blocking the way, searching for the point of penetration where it should be.
“No, don’t, don’t!” She nearly cried out, bracing herself and trying to push me away.
I continued to search for the entrance to my finger, my sister struggled and squirmed underneath me making it difficult for me to feel her hole, but I eventually found the door to the bliss that would bring us pleasure, and then I honestly stuck my finger in.
Inconsistent with her performance, her sister was completely wet there.
“I can’t believe you would do this, brother.” She said as she struggled.
“Don’t worry, brother won’t hurt you,” I reassured her, “you’re still as beautiful as ever, I love you, sister.”
Hearing what I said, she stopped saying anything all of a sudden.
“Do you understand? I love you very, very much, sister.”
She gave me a blank look and said in a mocking tone, “What a grandiose thing to say, and you don’t know how to blush, if you weren’t my brother, I would have called the police a long time ago.”
Great, that’s a relief to have that.
She lay underneath me, her legs still open despite the sneer, and she didn’t seem to have any intention of covering up her naked parts.
I stared in awe at her naked body, honestly I had never seen my sister without clothes since she was growing up, she looked almost exactly like mom. Her breasts were only slightly smaller than mom’s, but they were much more beautifully shaped, and I quickly got hard again.
“Are we going to continue?” I asked.
My sister looked at me for a moment, and then suddenly laughed, with tears in her eyes, as if she had heard the world
The most hilarious and ridiculous question on the same ……
“At least I’m still ashamed of what you’re doing now.”
She didn’t explicitly agree with my request, but she didn’t explicitly reject me either.
So I immediately and quickly removed my own clothes and then, as my sister watched, I removed her panties.
Thus, my sister’s private parts were fully exposed to me, where she looked strikingly black and white, with her plump mounds covered in thick, dark brown pubic hair.
We were careful in our movements, watching each other’s reactions.
I gazed deep into her eyes, which showed a blazing fire, her mouth silent, but her eyes kozo encouraging me to continue my mission.
I moved above her, righting my dick, and gently pressed it against the entrance to her pussy, and the warm wetness coming from there told me it was time, and I gently pushed forward, and my dick went flush, burying itself completely in my sister’s warm pussy.
My sister gasped slightly and wriggled a bit to get my rod in the best position before I started thrusting hard.
My sister’s pussy, like my mom’s, wasn’t very tight, but it brought me the greatest pleasure, physically and mentally, and I was satisfied just to be able to stick my dick in it and cum in it.
I worked my way in and out of my sister’s flesh, one at a time, imagining that each impact would rock her to her core and push her to the heights of extreme pleasure.
In our carnal exchange, I felt that I loved my sister more and more, not just because she had mom in her, but because she was my sister, my daughter.
I fought to support myself for a long time, and by the time my sister’s body began to tremble violently, I couldn’t support myself any longer, so I freely ejaculated inside my sister.
When I was done, I lay contentedly beside her, tenderly caressing her soft breasts.
I asked, “Don’t you regret it?”
“Of course not,” she replied, “I never thought of betraying my husband or my children, nor your wife who I didn’t want to hurt, but I really don’t regret this time we had.”
She was quiet for a moment, then suddenly laughed: “For the others, as long as no one finds out–oh, look what a terrible thing we’ve done, we’re incesting.”
“People make all the rules in the world, and we have ours.” I ate it up and laughed, but in my mind I wondered, “What would she do if she knew that this was not only brother-sister love, but father-daughter love as well?”
My sister got up to take a shower and I followed her in.
That day we were all together, leaving traces of our love in the bathroom, in the kitchen, in the hall and so on almost everywhere in the room. I sometimes licked her private parts with my tongue, which was hard to accept at first for my sister who was otherwise very conservative, but was soon overcome by the pleasure that followed.
I encouraged her to try various ways of making love with me that she had never had the opportunity to experience, and my sister was simply mesmerized.
We made love like crazy, every part of my sister’s body was incredibly attractive to me and I was willing to give her everything I had.
We were both happy that day, and I told her how I had missed her and longed to make love to her all these years. My sister was a little surprised that I was hitting on her so early on, apparently she had always thought of me as a good, gentle, decent brother.
She said that she had always respected me and loved me, but only as a big brother who could protect her and love her, and that she had never thought of our relationship in a crooked way before.
I’m sure she was also surprised that she hadn’t rejected my advances and would show a different kind of passion during our lovemaking.
The days after that were really cozy, I came to her every day, her bedroom, our world for two, her bed, our love nest.
Sometimes, my wife suddenly got excited and wanted to have sex with me, but I always shrugged off the fact that I was not feeling well, and I still had to maintain my strength and energy to comfort my sister, so how could I still have the energy to satisfy my wife’s request?
Two weeks went by in a hurry, and my sister’s kids came home, so my sister and I had to put a stop to the pleasure of blatant proclamations for a while, but fortunately the room was large, and the kids weren’t often home during the day, so we still had plenty of room and time for sex.
I realized that I was deeply addicted to this incestuous sex, before it was my mom, now it was my sister, and the only way I could have a real orgasm was during an intense fuck with my sister, and I knew that the same was happening with my sister.
In the months that followed, we talked a lot about our relationship, and we both liked to call each other “sister” or “brother” (whereas in the past we had usually called each other by our first names), especially when there were other people around, and we found it more exciting to call each other that. It’s more exciting to call each other that, especially when there are other people around.
One day I reminded her that her son was a grown man and a nice pretty boy. I jokingly asked her if she was interested in hooking up with her son as well, and she laughed at my silly remark and of course refused.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Don’t be a fool,” she said, “he’s my son and I don’t think he’ll be like this.”
“Maybe you should take the initiative, you’ll find the fun in it.”
“Would you want me to leave you?”
“Of course not, but I can share you in that way.”
“But I can’t.”
“You should try it.” I said, “It’ll do him good, and you too.”
“Brother, you’re kidding me.”
“No.”
“Be frank, what are you trying to say?”
“No.”
“Why? Think about it, how can I still seduce my own son after what we did?”
“But–“
“It’s different, totally different, we’re adults, but my son isn’t. Even though we’re brother and sister, the relationship between a son and his mother is much more complicated, and it’s going to mess him up for the rest of his life.”
“It won’t.” I said in disbelief.
“But it does seem possible.”
“I have precedent, that’s how mom and I got here.”
“No way.”
“It’s true.”
“Lying.”
“I’m not lying, I wasn’t even your son’s age when mom taught me how to have sex, but we’ve done it so many times, maybe hundreds, thousands, I don’t remember, many times anyway, like a couple.”
My sister grabbed my hand and brought her face to me.
“Are you serious?” She asked.
“Of course.” I affirmed.
“Oh my God,” she said, sitting down on the bed in a flash of silence.
“Does that bother you?”
“No, not really, but–” she hesitated a little, “it’s so sudden.”
Then she wanted to know how it happened, she needed to know what happened.
So I told her everything and she laughed out loud when she heard it.
“Is that really true mom?” She asked with a smile and I answered in the affirmative.
We talked about it for a while longer, and I told her how I felt about my first time with my mom and how much we both enjoyed being in such an inverted relationship.
“So, your first time was when you were thirteen?”
“Yes.”
“So Daddy’s ignoring you guys?”
“Dad was dead by then.”
“But-but-” she stammered, because Mom and I had pushed the date back two years when we told her about Dad’s death.
“Dad had been dead for a year by then.”
I proceeded to tell her that I was her father, and she looked so surprised that her face turned white for a moment.
“You-you-you got Mommy pregnant?!” She stammered again, “With me?”
She was silent for a while, as if she just realized it: “You’re my father.”
“And also your brother.” I added.
“Oh hell,” she shrugged, “no wonder I always felt like a daughter to you, so you’re my dad.”
“Yes.” I said, brushing my palm gently over her thigh.
She suddenly leaned her body over and whispered into my ear, “You’ve done it many times with your daughter, but I haven’t done it with my own father yet, and that’s not fair.”
With that, her legs wrapped around me and she mumbled, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, my good, kissing Daddy.”
Then we lingered again, certainly more passionately than my sister also before.
After we were done, we talked for a long time and came back twice more before I went home.
“So, what about your son?”
Before I left I revisited the old story.
“Let’s just forget about it.”
She ate and laughed and watched me leave.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, maybe–“
I laughed and shook my head, exiting the room.
Yeah, who can give a 100% guarantee about the future?
[End of text]