Incest stories, Loving Aunt Brooke and my Mother, An evening at home with mum and Aunt Brooke, When I looked across I saw she was staring. She had that look on her face, expression all hot-eyed and hungry as she worked at her clit.
Desire surged inside me. “Come here,” I said.
“In a minute,” she told me with a thrust of her chin in my direction. “I just want to watch for a little while longer.”
From the big lounge chair, my mother gave me a nod. “Me too,” she said. “I’m glad we started. It’s lovely to do this with you.”
My eyes soaked up the image of my mother’s large breasts jiggling as her fingers played her clit. She was casually sprawled, thighs wide, one leg over the arm of the chair, indecently flaunting herself with no inhibition, vulva smooth after a recent waxing, gaze intent while her sister slurped and slobbered down at my cock. My mother had scooped her boobs out of the filmy negligee, the bootlace straps over her shoulders, nipples long and thick in the circles of their puckered areolae.
I gasped out, “Incredible,” as my aunt came up and showed me a grin.
“Dirty fucker,” Aunt Brooke said, smirking while slowly jacking my length.
“Get on it,” I growled a moment before I pulled her in for a kiss.
As our tongues swirled, my aunt shifted around. She straddled my thighs, my hands on her waist, the kiss rolling on.
I mauled Brooke’s breasts as she reached down to take hold of my cock. “Big fucking tits,” I breathed, hot with desire for my aunt.
“You like them, don’t you, Alan,” she said, holding my cock upright. Aunt Brooke chuckled and smiled before adding, “Typical bloke. Goes silly for pair of tits.”
As my aunt rubbed her pussy over my dome, I sucked at a nipple, sucking it between my teeth before doing the same to its twin. Her big spongy-taut boobs were heavy in my palms as her molten embrace squeezed my girth.
I was inside my aunt. We were fucking again.
“But they’re fantastic,” I moaned when she started to move. “I love watching them bounce. It’s awesome being with you. Being with her. I can’t get enough of you both.”
With my aunt riding my cock, I looked across to my mother again. She was slack in the face and staring at us, eyes vague, lost in the sub-space of carnal delight while her sister’s buttocks slapped with metronomic regularity against my thighs.
My mother gazed as my aunt really made it work for herself. She groaned and gasped, squeaking her pleasure, wispy blonde tendrils coming loose from the grip holding her long hair in place. Brooke’s breasts bounced and swung as she fucked at my length, my hands full of her buttocks as I watched my mother slide two fingers into her pussy.
My mother sobbed out delight, the middle- and third-digits going in up to the knuckle. She winced and groaned and jerked in spasm, wailing “Oh God,” while fucking those fingers. “I can’t get over how sexy it is to see you together,” added my mother, her stare holding mine. “I can’t bloody believe we’re doing this. Me and my son … My sister…”
“Come here, mum,” I told her again.
She shook her head. “No, I said I wanted to watch.” Her thumb strummed her clit when she said it, a grimace of what I took to be absolute joy twisting her face.
“Oh, fuck,” Brooke moaned, claiming my focus as she continued to rut. “Play with my bottom, Alan,” she said through a gasp. “Tickle my arse.”
I used my aunt’s own lust to lubricate a finger, smearing the buttery gloop from my cock so I could spread it over her sphincter. Brooke snorted and groaned when I teased her back there. “God, that’s lovely,” she told me, eyes lit up with mischief. “Slide it in. Finger my dirty-hole, Alan. Fuck my cunt and diddle my arsehole.”
It was trademark Brooke. Typical sewer-mouthed filth. A sign she was working up to a climax.
In response, I pushed the tip of the finger against her body’s natural resistance. I knew just what to say, just how to tease her for her maximum pleasure and, as I slid the finger past her slippery ring, I whispered out, “I should fuck you there, Aunty Brooke. I should fuck your arse.”
“You dirty fucker,” she groaned as she ducked in to kiss my mouth.
We kissed, which is about my favourite thing to do while fucking either my aunt or my mother. For me, the kissing is an expression of feeling even more intimate than being inside them. It’s a connection. Personal. A means to communicate love. And I do love my aunt, the sex just makes it more special between us.
When the kiss broke, Brooke slowed the tempo. She rose up-and-down, gently using her sex, a hand going behind so she could splay her cheeks.
“Dig that finger in deep,” my aunt said with a smile.
I probed her rectum and held her stare, her pussy gliding over my shaft while time hung suspended.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Aunt Brooke paused and then smiled, soft and tender. “I love you, too,” she told me before she kissed me again.
It got more urgent between us as that kiss went on, my aunt starting to ride with more vigorous action, the dirty-talk spilling from her mouth as she closed her eyes and concentrated on getting her climax.
“Fuck me, Alan,” gurgled Aunt Brooke. “I’ve been waiting for this all fucking day. Make it good for me, baby. Let me ride you. Get that finger right into my arsehole. Stir it up back there.”
The sex noises came out of my aunt in a babble of nonsense obscenities, our bodies slap-thwacking together while I slid my free hand over her body. Her skin felt so smooth under my palm, the texture of a healthy young woman, muscles firm, her breasts and buttocks taut yet pliant with that peculiar spongy softness of a female body in its prime.
The sounds Brooke made were a sign she was close. She muttered and mumbled the foul profanities, lost in her joy, a hand down between her legs so she could go at her bean and, as Brooke diddled and I worked the finger into her anus, I looked towards the chair where I expected to see my mother still using her fingers while watching me and my aunt. But when I looked over, my mother had moved. Now she was standing close by, her hand between her thighs, the hem of the diaphanous negligee draped over her wrist.
“Mum,” I said, surprised.
“You’re fucking my sister,” she said in reply.
I gulped and nodded. “Yeah.”
“It’s so rude. It’s wicked,” she said, the words coming out clotted and thick.
When I replied with, “You started it,” my mother grinned and then winced. She let out a moan and wriggled around, hand sawing at her sex while she groaned and rocked her pelvis back-and-forth. My mother sighed and mewled, rubbing her pussy over her hand as she squirmed at the pleasure.
“I did, didn’t I, Alan.” A statement, not a question. My mother moaned again, sucking on her lower lip for a couple of seconds before adding a hoarse, “You needed a push.”
“Kiss me,” I gasped on a surge of emotion.
The sensations I experienced as my aunt fucked her urgency over my cock, the heavy roundness of my mother in my hands, and the swirl of her tongue brought forth the rush and I came, spunk flooding my aunt, her squeal loud while I carried on kissing my mum.
In an unnecessary announcement, Brooke wailed, “You’re coming! Oh God no! Please, not yet!”
“You fucker,” Brooke squealed, bouncing robustly. “I’m close, so fucking close.”
“Keep going,” I told her. “It’ll stay hard.”
Brooke said it through gritted teeth, her bottom slapping against me while she snarled, “You fucking better stay hard. I’m so fucking horny I’d gang-bang a room full of cocks.”
It wasn’t an idle boast from me. Not at twenty. Not with those two women involved in the fray. My mother was forty-seven, Brooke over two decades younger. My aunt was twenty-five, closer to me in age than she was to her sister, both of them of a type: thick-middle women; sexy and bold and sassy. Beautiful girls all full and ripe, rounded where it counts. Quick to smile and easy to tumble into bed, as I’d found out. If either one was involved, I could easily come twice on the bounce. With them both present, I reckon I could have fucked all night.
My mother slumped down beside us, legs going wide, her gaze on my face.
She played with her folds and sighed, “She’s going to come. You’ve come inside her and she’s riding your cock. God this is wrong. It’s so bloody naughty.”
“Thank you,” I said into her stare. “I didn’t know I could feel this way.”
My mother’s puzzled frown confronted me. “Why thank me, darling?”