Incest story: Incestuous Harem by mypenname3000. Since his dad’s death, everything has begun to fall apart for Clint. He’l have to man up to get the women of his family back under control, starting with his first cousin Melody.

Incest story: Incestuous Harem – Chapter 1A: Popping Kissing Cousin’s Cherry

by mypenname3000

Genres: Fiction, Incest, Male/Female, Oral Sex, Virginity, Voyeurism

“Ugh, I can’t believe how much homework Ms. Ayers gave us for math,” my cousin and best friend groaned. She shook her head, her braid of sandy-blonde hair dancing across her shoulders. “Doesn’t she know it’s the weekend, Clint? I don’t want to spend it on figuring out sign, cosign, and tangent.”

I snorted, nodding my head. Melody hated math. “How long until you scream at your homework and then throw it out your bedroom window?”

“I did that once, asshole,” she said, giving me a glare followed up by a light punch on my shoulder. “One time. In the seventh grade. That was ages ago.”

“Or four years. Not that long ago.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll just copy off your homework.”

“What makes you think I know how to do it?” I asked with a grunt.

“Because you don’t want me to fail.” She sidled closer to me, her arm almost brushing mine. My hand clenched. I wanted to reach out and take her hand, holding it.

But we were in public. It was one thing to be best friends with your nineteen-year-old, tomboyish cousin, it was another thing to hold her hand like she was your girlfriend. I couldn’t help staring at the profile of her face as we walked, her nose a small, cute protrusion, her lips pursed. They were pink. Melody didn’t wear much lipstick. But she really didn’t need it. She had a natural beauty even when she wore loose t-shirts and comfortable jeans.. She didn’t wear the tight clothing like the other girls at our school, flaunting her body, wanting all the boys to look at her.

It was why we had been best friends for as long as either of us could remember. We were both nineteen, though I was younger by a month, and we had grown up living next door. I don’t know why our mothers, who were sisters, decided to live side-by-side, but it was hard not to run around with Melody as a kid. She liked climbing trees, playing soldiers, riding bikes, and playing video games. She truly was my best friend.

And then a year ago, things changed. We were in my room hanging out on my bed, talking, doing homework, fucking around and…we kissed. It was almost accidental. She had turned to me as I leaned in to tickle her, and our lips bumped.

And we didn’t pull away.

Now we were kissing cousins. We made out every chance we had. I wanted to do so much more with her, but we were first cousins. Our mothers were sisters. It was…wrong. Incest. We both felt it. But we both enjoyed the kissing, the touching, the intimacy.

I felt like she was even more of my best friend after a year of sneaking around. And when my dad died six months back, she was the only one in the family who helped me deal with it. Mom was lost to her boxes of wine, my older sister was just a cunt, and my younger sister retreated even farther into her books. Aunt Vicky, Melody’s mother, tried, but she just made it worse, and my other cousin, Lee, was a brat as always.

But Melody was someone I could talk to, share things with. Hell, I could even cry a bit around her without her thinking I was a pussy.

“So you better do your homework well,” Melody said, bumping her shoulder into me. It was our way of holding hands. We had a lot of little ways of showing affection around other people that didn’t look weird. “Because I don’t want to fail.”

“So, as the man, I have to take care of you?” I arched an eyebrow. “Pretty sexist of you.”

“I enjoy traditional gender roles when they benefit me,” she grinned and licked her lips. It was a deliberate, slow lick.

My heart beat faster. It was her way of kissing me in public. Damn, I wish we weren’t on the sidewalk of our street, our feet crunching on the first leaves of autumn fallen from Mrs. Lynch’s Japanese maple. Why did we have to be first cousins? If she was just the girl next door, we would have fucked already. We could have been fucking for months.

Then I wouldn’t be a damned virgin.

“Fine, I’ll take care of your lazy ass,” I said, a grin on my lips, my tone light.

“Lazy?” She arched an eyebrow then lowered her voice. “I thought my ass was hot, not lazy. You loved it in those panties I bought.”

My grin spread large, hungrily. Recently, she was stripping down to her underwear for our make out sessions. We were flirting closer and closer with going all the way. With crossing that line into real incest.

“I loved it,” I grinned. “Maybe if you want to copy my homework, you need to show me another pair of exciting panties.”

“But you already told me you would. No take backs, Clinton Elliston the Third.”

I groaned. My dad was Clinton. I was Clint. “Fine. But…if you want me to do my best, I need incentives.”

Her grin grew. Her lips were so kissable. I wondered what flavor of lip gloss she wore today. I hoped it was apricot. I liked that flavor on her lips.

We reached our houses, the shade of the giant chestnut tree in my front yard falling over us. The tree’s broad, green canopy covered most of my yard and a quarter of Melody’s. My house was gray with mauve trim—my mother chose the scheme and Dad painted it—and rose three stories, my room in the attic. Aunt Vicky’s house was reddish-brown, only two stories, and smaller.

Dad had also painted it. Aunt Vicky didn’t have a husband or even a boyfriend.

“So, you do your homework, Mister,” she told me, giving me a smile. “I’ll be over in an hour or so.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. I took her hand for a brief moment, giving her a squeeze. It was my way of kissing her in public—she would only laugh when I licked my lips slowly. It was sexy on a girl, but not on a guy apparently.

She licked her lips slowly. My dick ached in my jeans. And then my cousin broke away for her house, and I headed to mine. My mom’s car was in the driveway. I groaned. She should be at work for another two hours. I hope she hadn’t taken another half-day.

She would get fired if she kept doing that. Dad’s death hit Mom hard. Everything was falling apart, and I was the only one that seemed to care.

I entered the house and ran almost smack into Lee, my eighteen-year-old cousin. She and Melody were a year and a few months apart in age. Aunt Vicky had popped them out with the deadbeat asshole she used to date before he took off with another woman. Neither Lee, short for Leann, or Melody knew their father as more than “the sperm donor.” My dad had been the closest thing to a father they knew.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, groaning at the piece of toast slathered in Nutella jammed in her mouth.

She mumbled something that might have been, “Eating.”

“Don’t you have food at your house?”

She ripped the toast from her mouth and stuck her tongue out at me. She may be eighteen, but she acted like she was five. Her black hair was cut in a pixyish bob which only enhanced her bratty, youthful figure. She was slim and had more energy than a crackhead on speed.

“Your food is better, Lint,” she beamed.

I groaned at her annoying nickname for me. “Did you clean up your mess?”

“Nope.” She flashed me a grin then darted around me with swift dexterity, ducking my arm as I tried to seize her and haul her ass back to the kitchen. But she played soccer, and she knew how to dance around a defender.

“Leann, get your ass back here,” I shouted as she crashed through the screen door and raced away from the house laughing. “Dammit.”

“Was that Lee bursting out of here?” asked Zoey, my older sister. She walked down the stairs wearing a tight pair of jean shorts and a halter top that enhanced her already impressive breasts, the mounds jiggling as she came down the stairs, so big and pillowy. I know I shouldn’t stare at my sister, but when she was built like a brick house, it was hard not to. Brassy hair fell about her sultry face, her lips dark-red and looked so plump and kissable.

Zoey had the biggest tits in the family. I know I loved Melody, but, damn, my sister had a body that would not quit. She had just turned twenty and loved to flaunt her stuff. She sauntered by me, her hips rolling, her exposed midriff tan and sleek.

“How was school, squirt?” she asked, ruffling my hair. “Did Ms. Ayers give you a ton of homework?”

I scowled as I patted my dark hair back into place. I hated when she ruffled it. And when she called me squirt. We were a year-and-a-half a part in age but I was only a grade behind her—a junior That didn’t matter. She treated me like I was a fucking kid. “Yeah.”

“Knew it. Always loves to give a ton of homework on the weekends. Had her last year. The worse.”

I followed her into the kitchen and groaned at the disaster Lee left behind. How did she create such a mess making a piece of toast? “You see this shit?”

“Yep,” Zoey said, opening the fridge and bending over. Those jean shorts molded to her ass. They were so tight, and I didn’t see any panty line. I flushed, my dick hardening Why couldn’t Melody dress like that some of the time. Zoey’s hips swayed as she rooted around the fridge. She bent over more, and I could see a prominent cameltoe, the jean shorts hugging her pussy. Damn. “Ugh, Mom hasn’t gone grocery shopping yet. No OJ.”

I wrenched my gaze away before she caught me staring, my dick so damned hard, and grabbed the still-open jar of Nutella. I screwed on the lid. Hard. “She said she would tomorrow.”

“Right,” my sister said with sarcasm, settling on a pitcher of grape juice. She poured a glass and leaned against the counter watching me clean up Lee’s mess.

“You want to help?” I asked as I sealed the loaf of bread with the plastic thingie and put it into the cupboard.

“Not really, squirt.”

I grit my teeth. Everything was going to shit. She wouldn’t sit there and watch me clean if Dad was alive. And he never would have put up with Lee making a mess and not cleaning it up either. He would have bent his niece over his knee and spanked her ass.