Neither of us had much to say. Roy put his clothes on and went into his office, taking a bottle of vodka with him. I picked up my shorts and halter, went into my room, and tossed them on the bed. Mom was in her bedroom, crying now as bitterly as I'd been crying a few minutes ago, and I suppose it was all my fault. I rustled through a drawer, found a shirt, and put it on. The tail was long enough to cover the panties I donned, and, summoning up all my courage, I went through the bathroom connection and into Mom's room.
She was on the bed. A bottle of brandy was on the nightstand, and she was tossing down a water glass of the stuff. Her eyes caught mine and she turned her head away. I felt about two feet tall as I went to sit down beside her.
God, the look on her face! Even before, when I didn't know, I'd never really considered her side of it. I mean, she was my mother, and I was balling her new husband on the side. So what? But when I saw the pain in her blue eyes, I realized for the first time that she was vulnerable, that she could be hurt, that she had been hurt.
"I'm sorry," I said.
She put down her glass of booze and I saw that it was already having an effect on her. God, she hadn't eaten anything for breakfast, just a cup of coffee – the stuff must be on an airline to her head!
"I know," I told her then. "Roy told me. And I'm really sorry. I started it, before he had any idea."
And we were crying together, hugging, our wet faces close. Two women, sharing a sorrow. Until Mom sat back, her face tense.
"I'm going to kill him," she said. "He might not have known when this all started, but he Goddamned well knew later, and the two of you weren't playing jacks today."
Her voice was a bit thick, as if it were clogged by brandy, and I knew she didn't really want to kill Roy. But she leaned towards the nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and brought out a small revolver.
I hadn't even known they kept a gun in the house, and the sight of it made my stomach turn. "You'd better have another drink," I suggested, giving her the glass. She put down gun, took the glass, and poured the brandy down her throat. While she was drinking, I slid the gun out of sight.
She seemed to forget about it instantaneously, as it was. When I looked back, she'd put down her empty glass and was yawning. "I'm sleepy," she said. And kinda drunk.
"Why don't you take a nap?" I suggested. She nodded happily and began to take her clothes off. It was a simple slacks and sweater outfit, black and expensive, but she was having a lot of trouble with it, so I gave her a hand. We got her sweater off, and then the pants, and she lay down on the bed in her undies. I couldn't help noticing how attractive her body was, in spite of the situation. Her bra was nylon, a step-in model without hooks or clasps, and it was scandalously sheer and flimsy, allowing her nipples to stick out prominently. And her panties were of the skimpy, mini-bikini variety, low-cut and clingy. They fit her womanly hips as if they were painted on, and a few stray curls of pussy hair peeked out at the legs.
Why, I wondered, was Roy stupid enough to fuck around with me when he had a gorgeous, foxy lady like Mom? She lay there, almost naked, her long legs stretching in endless shapely curves, her tits jiggling as she breathed, and I thought I'd never seen anything so beautiful in all my life. I was proud to be her daughter, and I loved her more than I ever had in my life.
I thought of the years she'd spent with Daddy – oops! – with Dick Wexford, never loving him, trying to make a home for me, and all the while in love with another man. And now, when her sacrifices had finally paid off, I'd fucked it all up with my sluttish horniness. I wanted to crawl under a rock.
Mom sat up. I sat beside her and she put her arms around me. She kissed my face wetly, breathing brandy on me, and I huddled closer.
"Poor little baby," she whispered, and she stroked my shoulders.
Her hand dropped lower, caressing the upward slope of my tits, and through the material of my shirt I could feel my nipples getting warm and stiff. It seemed only natural to embrace her in reply, and I touched the flesh of her bare back beside one bra strap. She was warm, too, her skin soft and satiny, and touching it made me feel good all over.
Mom didn't seem to know that she was holding my titty in the palm of her gentle hand. Or did she? I couldn't guess. All I know is that she began to squeeze rhythmically, still kissing me on the cheek and puffing onto my face, and something popped inside me.
I brought my hand around and touched her on the well-filled left cup of her brassiere. The nipple was already sticking out and I brushed it with my fingertips, upon which it seemed to grow even stiffer, longer, warmer.
What are you doing, Jennifer? I asked myself and I didn't have an answer. For the first time in my life I was at a loss. I only knew that I had to do something.
She was still cupping my boob, and I cupped hers in reply. It was plump and round and full-shaped, and it filled my palm beautifully. I squeezed harder, and felt her do the same to me. I wanted to cry out but I couldn't, because I'd just brought my lips around and planted them on hers.
Mom stiffened and strained when I kissed her that way, but she didn't really resist. I don't think she knew what I was doing, honestly, but neither did I. One thing seemed to lead to another, and I merely followed.
I pulled my lips from hers with a smack, then nibbled on her chin, and kissed my way down her neck. She wiggled as I caressed her, but she lay more quietly when my mouth ventured onto the rise of her tits.
I kissed and licked her cleavage, where the little bra was deeply cut out, and then I planted my mouth upon the point of her nearest jug. My saliva dripped upon her and my tongue flipped across the nipple that made a strong, proud point in the flimsy nylon cup. Her tit heaved as I sucked it, and it occurred to me that I'd probably not mouthed her breasts since I was an unweaned baby. But I wasn't a baby now, and she was my mother, but it didn't seem to count. Not now. She needed to be comforted, and this was the best kind of comfort I could give her.
My hand moved to her crotch, strumming the front of her panties. Her pussy hair rustled beneath when I touched her, and she trembled. I heard her say "Jenni," but it wasn't a command to stop. That I was sure of.
And then I put my hand inside her panties, right onto the dark-fuzzed mound of her cunt. She was warm, even moist, and she made a fluttering "ohhhh" when my fingers gently caressed the lips of her slit. Two of them slipped inside, gently once more, and the incongruity of it occurred to me for a moment. Eighteen years ago I'd popped into the world by way of that very hole, and now I was going back inside. Her tit wobbled in my mouth when she cried out, and I worried it with my lips and teeth, making her cry out again.
My God, she was my mother, and I was coming on to her the way Kendy Purvis had done to me the first night we shared a room! It should have been obscene and horrible, but I didn't feel obscene, and certainly not horrible. A demon inside me was pulling the reins and I was doing as I was bid.
I got her panties down, down to her knees, and she kicked them the rest of the way off. Her legs parted and, when I took my mouth off her tit, I could see the glory of her cunt. It was beautiful, fluffed in dark curls that veiled her pink slit, and I found myself wondering how she'd look if she were shaven, the way Kendall and I were. Maybe.
Fuck maybes! Maybe there'd be no maybes! "Why don't you take off your bra?" I suggested, unbuttoning my shirt.
"Jenni," she said again, nothing else. She slipped out of her brassiere and her bared tits jiggled in a graceful manner that made my heart ache. I threw my shirt to the floor and went onto my knees, tugging down my panties. Mom reached out, her eyes a pair of blue blanks, and she helped me out of them. I lay back down, and so did she, our heads reversed. She didn't move.
I did, though. My head neared her crotch, sniffing the wonderfully grown-up aroma of her cunt, and I couldn't control myself. I got a mouthful of her pussy hair, my tongue diving through it to assault the lips of her snatch. They parted for me, and I plunged inside.
Her clitoris was big and beautiful, a woman's bud that seemed to dance into my mouth. My tongue grazed it and I heard her moan, and then I was pulling her cunt-lips apart so I could suckle her trigger.
It vibrated as my lips tugged it, and as I sucked, I used my fingers on her twat. She was slick, a bright-red inside, a lovely bright-red, and the taste of her cunt was beyond description.
"Stop," she pleaded, unconvincingly, "please, Jenni."
I didn't stop. I let go of her clit and stabbed my tongue into her pussy-hole. She moaned and writhed and bucked so hard I thought she'd rock me off her. My hands clutched at her hips, and I rolled with her, and then I felt her hands reaching for my ass and I knew it was okay.
"I don't know…" she said. "What are we doing?"
I lifted my butt and planted my cunt on her face. She made a muffled protesting sound, but her lips vibrated along the slice of my shaven cunt, making me blink in agitated response, and I squashed my pussy down on her with a vengeance.
She'd never eaten a cunt before, it was clear. Her tongue brushed my slit, but inexpertly, hesitantly. I used mine in her gash to show her how it was done, and she began to get the idea. Her tongue flitted with a bit more confidence, teasing the lips of my cunt, and I knew that she was tasting my pussy-cream. Indeed! And from the growing vigor of her licking I knew that she found the flavor acceptable.
I giggled into her pussy and munched it more determinedly. Mom liked that. She wiggled and moved beneath me, but her thighs lifted, clamping on the sides of my head. I could have taken my face away if I'd wanted to. I didn't.
It wasn't like with Kendy. She and I were crazy about one another, and when we got together, it was more like a rape scene. Somehow that didn't seem to be the thing for now. I supped at Mom's pussy with careful, loving strokes, moving slowly enough to keep her warm but not frightened.
I couldn't say the same for her, though. Once she'd gotten a mouthful of my twat-juice, it didn't seem she could be held down. Her fingers dug into my ass as it rocked and bounced atop her face, and her tongue savaged my slit with a skill born of growing excitement. When she batted my clitoris, it was like the fluttering strum of a hundred tiny, tiny fingers, and she was doing it all with her mouth. She was a natural cunt-lapped, once she got the hang of it.
How, why, was this happening? I tried to ask myself. The answer didn't seem important. Mom needed love and comfort, after the shock of seeing me and my father naked together, and this was the best kind of love and comfort I could give her. Maybe things wouldn't seem so traumatic when it was over, or maybe they'd seem even worse – but on the other hand, I'd already been balling my own daddy for almost a month without knowing it, and this couldn't be a much more terrible offense.
The only danger was that her increasingly active tongue would bring me to a big creamy come before I could do the same to her. I didn't care if I came or not… Oh, strike that! Sure, I care, and I cared more each time she whipped my trigger with her tongue and lips. But she was the important member of this team. I had to take her mind off her troubles, make her forget about shooting Roy or doing something else just as drastic, and if I could give her one great, knock-out orgasm, that would be a healthy start.
I worked my fingers into her splayed pussy and used them alternately with my tongue. She appreciated it, especially when I put two of them into her hole and began to crook them inside her. Her cunt was comfortably snug, and I remembered Roy telling her just that, the afternoon of the wedding when I'd spied on them making it. Something else – what? – oh, sure! Mom had spoken then about something they had to tell me, something apparently important. I'd figured later it must be the big news about adoption, but guess what? Well, I knew now, anyway, and I suppose fate had run its appointed course. The trick now was to keep my indiscretion from ruining Mom and Roy's life again. They were my parents, my blood parents, and I owed them that much in return for bringing me into this world of fun and games.
Games. It was all a game. It had all been a game from the beginning. I'd seduced Roy as a game, kept after him as a game. He was a good fuck, true, but there had to be plenty of guys in the world as good as he was.
Back to the game at hand, the biggest game I'd ever played.
I pronged Mom's cunt-hole with my fingers, teasing and tickling, and she began to do the same to me. When she got all her fingers into my pussy and then twisted her hand counterclockwise while sucking my clit, it was all over! I gushed a gallon of girl-cum into her face, took mouthful of her pussy and sucked desperately in the hope that I could give her as good a cream as I was getting.
She fought with her cunt, trying to climax, but not until I nipped her button did she give a tender wailing cry and lunge her snatch up at me. It was wet and hot, and I sucked up the juices of her orgasm, nuzzling her cunt with my lips till her tormented writhings subsided and she lay calm and still beneath me.
When I picked myself up from my perch on her body, she was smiling and flushed. Her breath smelled equally of my cum and brandy, but there was no thickness in her speech now, and when she spoke, her words were dear and precise.
"Thank you, Jennifer," she said. "Would you ask your father to come in here, please?"
I skipped and hummed as I went to get him. I was naked – I'd forgotten that – and when I hopped into his study, he was white-faced with shock.
"Come on," I called, dancing around his chair, and he rose slowly. "Everything's okay," I said, but he didn't look as if he believed me.
Not until he ventured into the bedroom, saw Mom lying there golden with the glow of her orgasm, and heard her say his name.
"Come here, Roy," Mom said, and he went to her. She took his hand and they sat side by side on the edge of the bed.
"I'm so sorry, Carrie," he told her, but she put her finger on his lips.
"I think I understand," she replied. "Jenni can be irresistible, can't she?" And she smiled a knowing smile meant for both of us. "I suppose," she went on, "that we're a special family in many ways. But, Roy, it doesn't matter! What's important is that we're together, finally, the three at us, just as we should have been from the beginning. If you and I hadn't been such hot-headed kids, none of this would have happened in the first place. Jennifer wouldn't have been in her situation, you wouldn't have been in yours."
"Carrie, I love you," he said.
"And Jenni? Don't you love her, too?" Mom wanted to know.
He nodded quickly. "Of course."
"Then take off your clothes," she said. "I want you to make love to me right now. Our daughter has just finished doing that, and now I want you. What are you waiting for?"
He looked at me. I was naked in the doorway. Roy stood up and he undressed himself carefully. I showed no emotion as he removed his shorts, and very little when Mom took hold of his limp cock, stuffed it into her mouth, and sucked till it thrust out big and hard and glossy. His eyes were alternating between me and her, as if he were still unsure.
Mom pulled him onto the bed, and he lay beside her. She patted the mattress.
"Jenni?" she asked. "Don't you want to join us?"
"Huh?" I said, not quite believing that one.
She smiled. "We all love one another," she said. "It seems to me, now, that it's only natural to show that love. In every way. So, Jenni, there's room for you in our bed, anytime you want it. Come now. Make love with us."
"No," I said, the word startling me as much as it did them. "No, I don't think so. Not right now. I mean, I don't really think I'm ready for it. This has been a big, surprising day for me, and I'm still kinda numb in places. Why don't you go ahead, kiss and make up, you know, and I think I'll go visit Kendy. I promised her I'd come by today, anyway."
Mom sighed, and I knew she'd meant her invitation. Wow! It was too much! Not only had I gained a brand-new daddy, my very own, but I'd just been told that I could have him for my personal stud whenever I wanted, courtesy of my mother. And apparently I could have her, too, whenever I wished.
But I didn't know whether I wanted that scene. Some heavy thinking was definitely in order. I mean, everything up to now had happened more or less by accident, barring the pebble I tossed at Roy to begin the avalanche. To keep it all in motion now, intentionally, that seemed different. Incest. That's what it would be if I bounced into bed with them right now. Of course, it had been incest all along, but I hadn't known.
"Look," I said, then, speaking quickly, "I know how the two of you feel about one another, and I don't think I should do any more cutting in. If it's all the same to you, I'll cat around on neutral ground from now on. That'd be best for all three of us, huh? Love ya both."
Mom turned to Roy – correction, Daddy. I might as well get used to calling him that. "She is growing up," Mom said, squeezing his hand. I could see tears gleaming on her eyes.
"Have fun," I said. "Kendy's probably wondering where I am. Later, huh?" And I started out the door.
"Did you say something?" Mom called, and I turned back with a big smile.
"I was just trying out my new name," I said. "Jenni Dawson. It sounds pretty good."
But they weren't exactly listening to me then. Roy had his hands on her tits and her leg was slung over his hips and Mom was just beginning to put his cock in her hole.
Mmmm, I thought, smoothing my lips, even if he is my daddy, he's going to be a hard habit to break. I could almost feel that big prick easing into me, the way it had so many times before, and I wondered how serious I was about not interfering with my parents in the future. Take it easy, Jenni – see what happens tomorrow. Don't force, don't fight.
"Catch you later," I said to Mom and Roy, "and the same to you."