Incest stories: Son! Its wrong – Chapter 2

Author: eroticbeing

Dad’s words told me exactly where his fingers were.

“Please not now.” was her somewhat unconvincing response, which was followed shortly by the sounds that I’d heard coming from her throat just a few short minutes ago, not as loud, but they were there. I wondered if she knew that I was still in the room, maybe she thought that it was better to let him have her, rather than running the risk of him turning on the light.

Other than sticking his finger in her, there didn’t seem to be anything else in the way of foreplay, but she was moaning softly, which said that she was ready for him anyway. So after some rustling of the sheets, it was clear that he was on top and inside her.

The noises which followed had no other interpretation than that they were having sex.

Dad was grunting, Mum was still moaning so softly that I could only just hear her, and I was standing alongside the door with an erection that was starting to burst. As he thrust harder into her it was obvious that both of them were close to coming. Not thinking of the consequences, I brought my cock out of my briefs, and with only a few strokes, fired off streams of goo across the room.

It landed with a soft dull sound onto the carpet. At the same time as I came, my mother did also, her sounds were muffled as though she had her face pressed into his shoulder to suppress them, and within a few seconds, Dad fired his load into her. Mums climax was very muted as if to reduce the noise level, as I was sure that she knew I was still in the room. Dad of course made no attempt to hide the sounds of his pleasure, he was just noisy. I’d heard noises in the night before, so this wasn’t new, just louder, and far more stimulating to actually be there in the room, even if I couldn’t see them..

Not able to afford to stand there for very long in case he turned on the light, and with my heart thumping so hard that I was sure that they could hear it. I quickly and quietly, before the noises died down totally, made my exit from the room, opening the door as little as possible and then, after sliding through, pulling it behind me quickly, and as quietly as I could.

Trying not to make any noise, I stood outside for a few seconds to see if they’d heard me, when Dad said.

“What was that?”

“Nothing Rich, what did you hear?”

“I saw a light, what was it?”

“I didn’t see anything, you must be imagining it.”

“But I’m sure I saw something.”

“You’re drunk, you’re imagining it.”

“Uh, oh ok, all right then, I just thought that I saw something,” and then there was silence.

I crept the few yards down to the bathroom, opened and then carefully closed the door behind me, before turning on the light and then shaking my head as I looked at myself in the mirror.

How the hell had we got to this? A half an hour ago I was finishing off clearing up the mess, and then had spent the rest of the time since, kissing my mother, running my thumbs across her nipples, and was then in the bedroom as she and Dad had had sex. At the same time as they were having their sex, I masturbated onto their bedroom carpet. The potential for disasters to have happened every step of the way cannot be overestimated. To say that the shit would have hit the fan was the understatement of the year.

Standing there the events of the evening ran through my mind like a video loop. As they did, I started to smile at my reflection, how many boys had wanted to do what I’d just done, and it’d never happened for them? But here I was, I’d done it and got away with it. At least as long as the stain on the bedroom carpet didn’t come back to bite me on the bum, as that would be impossible to explain. The face in the mirror smiled back at me, we were both proud of ourselves. I felt as though I’d got one over on Richard The Turd.

A lot of my emotions were pure relief, but as I reprised the evenings events, a new emotion made its impact on my body…lust. The memory of the sounds of my mothers coming, was replayed continuously in my mind. Before I knew it, my hand had again taken control, removing my cock from my briefs. I walked to the sink, looked again at myself in the mirror, and in no time at all was shooting another load into the bowl. As I did, I imagined the plug hole to be my mother’s mouth, and tried to get as many of the spurts as possible to go directly into it.

As the force lessened, the spurt became a dribble and finally stopped. I then used my finger to push the rest of it down the sinks side so that all of it finished up in her ‘mouth.’ By this time my legs were shaking, and I was starting to feel bad about the thoughts that I was having about my mother. I wasn’t worried about the disrespect to my father, but Mum was a special lady, that I’d always respected, and taken care of.

Making sure that there were no tell tale residues left behind, I walked to my room, got into bed, and tried to sleep. It was impossible, as the video loop of my mother coming under my father kept replaying over and over in my mind. So that after another hour and a half, my sock replaced the plug hole as the proxy for my mothers mouth.

When I caught my breath, I opened my door and listened but there were no noise coming from their room, Dad was most likely passed out again, but I was sure that Mum wasn’t asleep. I was so aware of her lying there, thinking about me, and what we’d done tonight. I was sure that she knew that I was in the room when they’d had sex. I hoped that my semen on the carpet would be dried by the morning, as that would take a bit of explaining. I found it really difficult to get to sleep, as the memory of her lips on mine, acting as adrenalin, kept me awake.

I went to sleep eventually and when I awoke the next morning there was silence in the house, I looked at the clock, eleven a.m. and the first thought that I had was the memory of kissing my mother, surprise, surprise I had an erection, which had to be taken care of before anything else. It wasn’t rare for me to have an erection first thing in the morning, but somehow this was different.

The memories of the previous night were so very strong and real that I could still feel the softness of her lips against mine, the warmth of her breath on my face, and the hardness of her nipples under my thumbs. All of these formed the basis of my morning fantasy.

I lay there thinking, and after a while one thing in particular came back to me every time. It was when Mum had said it’d been a long time since anyone had eaten her Big Mac, After hearing how he’d just stuck his dick into her, it was obvious what she meant by that. I guessed that as she seemed to be always ready, he probably thought that he didn’t need to waste too much time on her with foreplay.

My time with Jane had however taught me that as a woman got older she needed more foreplay, not only for the stimulation, but also so that she could feel still loved. It was the interaction and the contact, the giving and the sharing of love more than a sexual thing. All that sex needed was a stiff dick, Dad obviously had that, but seemed to have forgotten the rest of what love making was all about.

Just after midday Mum and Dad came down, he entered the kitchen first, “morning,” I said in my best cheerful voice, “how’s the birthday boy today?”

“Shit,” was the answer. It also described how he looked, years of drunken weekends were taking their toll on him.

“What’s the matter Daddy, didn’t you sleep well?”

He just grunted at me.

“You haven’t been eating carpet again have you?”

“Fuck you,” he snarled, giving me the finger.

“Rich, you know I don’t like that language,” and she punched him in the shoulder to emphasis the point.

“Yeah whatever, just get me a coffee.”

“Of course dear,” she said sweetly, and then sarcastically added, “but only because you said please so nicely.”

All of that was totally lost on him, “Whatever,” was his response as he fell into a chair, and to put the exclamation point to his being uncouth, he sat there scratching his balls.

For the first time Mum’s eyes met mine, she looked embarrassed. Was it because of our kisses, my playing with her breasts, because she knew that I was in the room as they’d had sex, or because Dad was being an arsehole again this morning?

When I thought about it, she probably had a bit to be embarrassed about.

Walking behind Mum to help make the coffee I ran my hand down her hip, she looked at me. I gave her my best smile, to which she gave me a strained, somewhat embarrassed look, and pushed my hand away. She looked as ragged as he did. I guessed that she’d had less sleep than anyone.

I cast my eyes at Dad who was just staring out of the window and said very softly, “you ok?”

She nodded, and then after also looking at him said, “you saw didn’t you?”

I shrugged and nodded, “yes, I saw you and Dad.”

Tears filled her eyes and she turned away embarrassed.

Taking her arm to turn her around, and before I’d had time to think about it said, “I wish it’d been me.”

Fortunately Dad wasn’t looking at us as she punched me hard in the arm, there were more tears in her eyes now, and she was visibly angry. “Don’t ever say that again, the only reason that I gave him sex was because I knew that you hadn’t had time to get out of the room, and if he started an argument or turned on the light he would’ve seen you.”

I looked at Dad and he seemed to have fallen asleep so it was ok to continue this conversation. “Do you mean to tell me that you went off like that when you didn’t actually feel like it, he almost raped you, and you still came?”

Despite the anger in her she looked a bit sheepish, shrugged and moved away to turn on the kettle.

As soon as she was out of striking distance I said, “even more so now I wish it’d been me with you.”

In a flash she was back to being angry, her eyes blazed at me as she mouthed, “NO, stop it.”

Grinning I blew her a kiss, she ignored it turning away as Dad called out, “Mary, what’s happening with that coffee?”

“It’s coming, be patient.”

When she brought it to him, I was deliberately standing in the way, so she pushed me roughly to get through, I thought that she was pissed at me, but when she came back I could see her face and she had the start of a smile on it. She couldn’t stay mad at me for long.