Over the next few weeks, Dad, Grandpa, as I was taught to call him, and I fucked, sometimes twice a day. His stamina is amazing. He often leaves me exhausted. I feel like I’m constantly leaking sperm.
He also taught me the proper way to suck a man’s cock. It’s not so easy. I had to learn to relax my jaw and throat to accept his size. I love the taste of his sperm. We fucked in the garage, the house, and even his truck one day on the way back from town.
I found out this morning, after returning from a trip to town after work, that I am also pregnant. I purchased an EPT, and sure enough, it turned blue. I then confirmed it with a visit to my doctor.
I walked into the garage and looked at my father, Grandpa, and said, “We have to talk.”
He sat down and said, “What’s up, sweetheart?”
I bluntly said, “I’m pregnant.” I sat on the other stool, and we silently looked at each other, looking for the words to break the silence.
Finally, Dad, my grandfather, Dad, broke the silence with only one word. “Damn!”
I went to him and took his hand in mine, placing it on my belly, and said, “It’s been confirmed by Dr. Ren.”
Then he looked at me with concern in his eyes and said, “Your mother is going to flip shit over this.”
I looked at him and said, “She’ll just have to accept that we will have two of your children growing up in this house.” He looked surprised, and I spilled the beans. “Yes, Dad, I know you’re my father, and I have all the damning evidence of who mom’s baby daddy is again.”
I leaned in and kissed him, not as a granddaughter, not as a daughter, but rather as a lover, a woman who was having his bastardly incestuous child.
I grabbed his crotch and said this cock is responsible for a lot of indiscreet, unorthodox fucking.
Finally, he found his tongue and spoke up. “What the fuck are we going to tell your mother?”
I responded with, “The truth.” “All of the truth.” Except, of course, for my little switch-a-roo of her BC. Which neither of them knew about. So that secret will never be told because I’m the only one who knows it, and a secret is safe with only one person.
When mom got back from grocery shopping, we helped her bring the bags in and put things away. I told Mom we had to talk. Mom sat down and said, “What’s up, sweetheart?” For the second time today, I bluntly said, “I’m pregnant.”
Mom looked like she was slapped with an ice-cold dishrag. She looked at me and said, “How?” “By whom?”
I reveled in the moment. Looking back, I had more balls than most men for being a woman. I replied, “By my father, my grandpa, and my dad.”
A look of shock was written all over her face as I pulled out my phone and played the video of her arguing with my father. Her tears were running freely down her face as I pulled out my phone and played the video of her arguing with my father. She turned to Dad and said, “How could you?”
I jumped in and said, “We were always close.” It just happened. When I found out the truth, I knew I had to tell both of you, “The little pretend game is over.”
I went on to let them both know that I was going to have this child. We would all stay here and live as a family. Me, my new brother or sister, my mother, father, slash grandfather
I also told them that they were going to be honest with me about our family. Mom looked at Dad, and they both nodded yes. Mom said, “We will tell you.”
More family secrets will be revealed.
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This story is a work of fiction and may disclose various sexual and social subjects such as female-female sex, male-female sex, sexual reluctance, group sex, non-protected sex, degradation, drugs, alcohol, exhibition, nonconsent, pregnancy, voyeurism, and subrogation. The author neither condones nor condemns any or all of the acts portrayed herein.
Every story must end. Or must it? I implore you, the reader, to tell me through your feedback. Do not comment on the authenticity of any portion of this fictitious writing. Or morality. It is fiction, a fictional story. It is intended solely for entertainment purposes and not to be analyzed for accuracy in any manner. if you read it. Thank you for following and reading my story or stories.
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