Early Works - Incest Mode

Then perhaps something left running when the original viewer fell asleep? She grins. Likes the idea of one of the three masturbating then falling asleep in post-orgasmic contentment. Dismisses the thought that the viewer might have fallen asleep before climaxing as too boring.

Then who? Mom, Baby Doll or Tim?... Not Tim...

She dismisses her mother's far-too-hot lover in an instant. Knows that as a man he's too limited in the number of orgasms that he can have in one day. That as a middle-aged man he's limited to six or seven per day at most; but that even if he weren't, he would still save them to share in his achievement with her mother or one of her friends. Her mother, her sister or both together then? She grins once more. Imagines the two of them rubbing themselves off. Gazing at each other's bodies as they do so. She licks her lips before throwing a glance towards her beautiful baby sister. Knows that spotting her sister's influence will be easy. She moves into a more comfortable position then gazes up at the first wall.

Blatantly lesbian orgy? Check. She grins at the sight. Admires women who lick and grope each other in a tangle of damply-shining limbs, partially-censored faces and pussies so sharp that she can see almost every hair. Watches as strap-ons pound into sodden quims or ease into straining buttocks, but more often than not simply jut freely. The women glow with pleasure. Grin and giggle as they bring each other off. Cry out in delight as they squirt or piss over each other. Grip each other's hands and gaze into each other's eyes as they climax. They're friends if not lovers. Mom, Rachelle or both? Mom. It's not naughty enough for her sister. Looks exactly like one of her mother's famous parties. She grins. Thinks that she might return to it later.

And the second? To her surprise, there are both men and women present. Timothy after-all? Perhaps Mom? Rachelle has interest in only one man. She peers at it thoughtfully, finds that it's not a standard orgy, that it's more organized than normal. That rather than a collection of random groups doing random things, they've organized themselves into a circle. The women are on the inside. Heads inward and legs both arched and spread outward. Bodies flushed with desire. Messy and dishevelled but without the damp sheen of exertion. Hands upon their heaving, hard-tipped breasts or grasping the hand of a neighbour. Each woman shuddering in pleasure. Jerking and crying out in silent ecstasy.

Each man fucking a woman? She smiles, thinks that at least they've avoided that cliché. Certainly the men face inwards, and they're both flushed and damp with exertion; but there it departs from the norm. Without exception they're knelt on both their hands and their knees rather than just the latter; and whilst their cocks show every sign of having been put to thorough use, they're just as uniformly either limp or at most semi-erect. Fortunately for the women they're clearly more-than-eager to either gobble the woman before them, or alternatively pleasure them with toys and fingers. An after-orgy wind-down? It seems similar, but it also feels different. Fresher. More playful. As if they're still getting used to each other.

She watches in interest as the camera moves gently from one couple to another; stroking herself absentmindedly as she does so; and then she blushes. Realizes that whilst she can see lines and blobs of sperm across the men's bodies and within their hair, there is none upon the women. Two orgies combined into one? One lesbian and one gay.

Mom!

Did her normally so-strongly gynephilic mother get herself off watching men spray their sperm across each other; or did she watch the lesbian orgy only to be surprised by the arrival of the men? She stifles a giggle at the thought, glancing towards where her darling mother lies besides her latest lover; and only then does she notice the gentle arching of one knee and the subtle but furtive movement of the hand that has pushed into her skirt.

Part 03...

Oh God, Mom...

She stares. Can do nothing else. Her breath caught in her throat. Her mind dizzy in awe and wonder. How many thousands of times has she watched her beloved mother masturbate? How many hundreds of times have they masturbated together; either side-by-side on the sofa at home, or sat at first side-by-side and then, once Rachelle was old enough to join them, on either side of her within the Club? That it is both common and normal for her to watch has no relevance, though; for her mother's pleasure holds her in thrall regardless; and she stares at her in complete oblivion to the orgies that play out in silence both before and to her side.

Rachelle!..

She glances at her darling baby sister hurriedly. Can she alert Rachelle to the fact that their mother is getting herself off?No. She's clearly sleeping. Has her thumb between her lips and one hand trapped between her slender thighs. She feels a moment of disappointment. A moment of regret that she had forgotten to lie closer to her in the contentment of her father-induced orgasm. Feels a moment of happiness that she will be able to tell her about it the next time they masturbate together.

Should she just get up and pad over to her beautiful, darling mother? She has no doubt that the older woman would gladly carry on no matter their proximity, but she holds back regardless. Why have the web-cams if not for the thrill of catching each other unawares? Why announce her presence when she might instead get to see a side of her mother that might otherwise remain hidden? When she might perhaps get to hear the older but still young woman whisper her name... She watches breathless and heart-racing as her mother's fingers increase their pace; and ever so slowly, ever so stealthily, she edges forward.

A stifled whimper of pleasure. A hint of the neatly trimmed bush that lies beneath her skirt and the hand beneath that. The soft, sibilant sound of fingers stroking wet flesh interspaced by the harsher sound of those same fingers sliding deep into the pussy beneath before returning upwards once more. A signal that she is close enough. That she will witness everything. Michelle touches her own bush as if on autopilot, but the sight of her quietly panting mother robs her of the ability to go further.

"Timothy!..."

A whispered gasp. She watches her mother's spare hand rest atop of her boyfriend's lap. Watches it stroke at the clearly limp but still blatantly obvious cock that lies beneath his trousers. Grips her panty-mound and stares in awe as her mother shifts awkwardly closer, her fingers never once stopping their movement beneath her skirt.

"T-Timothy! Wake...Wake up!"

Another gasp. Weaker. Her voice trembling. Her body tensing. Her middle-sized breasts lavish upon her small frame. Lifting upwards so that the long, stiff teats lift and tent her unbuttoned blouse; at once pushing it away from her breasts but also preventing it from falling open.

"I'm going to...I'm going to cum, Timothy!.."

Oh God,cum for me, Mom!

"I'm...I'm cumming!"

Mom!

She stares. Beams in delight. Bites her lower lip as her beautiful mother shudders in ecstasy. Thinks that she has never seen anything so wonderful as her mother clutches her hands over her mouth. That she has never heard anything so wonderful as her mother's hips jerk and lift upward, clear girl-cum squirting in an arc out of her skirt to splash across the thickly padded floor.

"Oh God...Oh God..." her mother sags weakly then, shivering in pleasure and whimpering into her hands as she does so. Lifts her head upward and gazes at the handsome man who lies peacefully besides her. "Fucking sleeping tablets!... I wanted to show you, Timothy..."

An obscene but plaintive whimper. Michelle stifles a giggle of shock hurriedly, then grins mischievously. Was it bad timing on his part, or a defence mechanism against her insatiable mother? That it was the former is obvious, but she imagines the teasing that she will give her mother up until the moment that she hears her mother give a whisper of mischievous and sensual delight.

"At least this is hard..."

Her world stops.

Oh fucking God!...

She swallows. Stares as her diminutive mother strokes the already impressive bulge that has grown beneath her lover's trousers and that arches towards his belly. She tells herself that she can't be so lucky. That her mother would never risk them waking. That even if it's okay over a web-cam, she would never do him in the same room as them. She tells herself those things, but her mother carries on stroking her lover's cock regardless of her thoughts, and in response his cock stiffens and swells beneath her hand.

Oh wow...

She grins. Realizes that her darling mother is clearly still too drunk to realize the full extent of what she's doing. That she might even have full sex with Timothy, unaware that her daughters watch in delight.

Rachelle!

She glances hurriedly at her younger sister once more. Could she wake her? Even though it looks like her mother is completely absorbed in her lust, she lies both too far away and too close to Leia's field of view. Resigned, Michelle turns back to watch the woman whose sexuality society would have her ignore. So what if her love and her desire are forbidden? So what if people would call her a pervert? She stares in awe as her mother's hand increases in speed, as the smile upon her cherry-red lips increases; and she feels her hands twitch against her bush in time with the other's increasingly erratic stroking.

"I love you, Timothy..."

Another whisper. Happy and gentle but playful at the same time. Accompanied by a kiss to his shoulder. Any romance behind it is lost on Michelle, though, for she is consumed by the question of whether or not he can cum in his sleep. She bites her lip. Wonders first whether it might be possible, then what her wonderfully horny mother would do if it was. Would she leave his cum as a surprise for him when he wakes up? Perhaps reach into his shorts and lick it from her fingers, or, even better, get his cock out and suck it clean? She flushes. Can't help imagining her mother savouring her lover's sperm... Rubbing it over her tongue and lips then working it into her pussy before inviting her eldest daughter to lick it out...

Oh my God... Go for it, Mom!..Make him cum!

She urges her mother onward. Stares as if entranced. Grins as Leia eases her spare hand into her skirt once more. Could they do it together? Michelle smiles at the thought. Licks her lips as her idol starts to frig herself once more, then copies her stealthily.

As one, two fingers stroke two hard and slippery clits. As one, mother and daughter thrust their fingers into the hot and wet cunts that clutch greedily at them below, though Michelle has the advantage of being able to use two hands, whilst her mother uses her other upon the handsome man lain before her. Might she realize what is going on just two metres behind her? Might she notice her daughter's light but increasingly ragged breathing? If truth be told, Michelle almost hopes that she would, for she has no doubt that they would masturbate together then; but her desire to see her mother accept and worship Timothy's cock keeps her in place.

And slowly, with difficulty, Leia works her way down her lover's tall and lean body. She moves weakly, fighting to get her limbs to move as she wants them to, struggling for every millimetre; but finally she lies against his legs, her head level with the long, fat bulge at his crotch, and once there she gazes in pride at the straining fabric unaware of the young woman who gazes in awe and pride at her.

"Come on, darling... Cum for me..."

And then her mother sucks at the rounded tip of the bulge that fascinates her so. Could she fellate him through his clothing? Might she somehow manage to make him shoot his seed into his boxer shorts once more? Michelle watches her mother dizzily, biting her lip and shivering in pleasure as she does so; but her attention is torn between her mother's efforts at Timothy's crotch and those between her thighs, for in her struggle to move downward, her mother forced her skirt up past her hips.

Could she kiss those beautiful, velvety smooth buttocks? Could she lick that tiny, pale brown anus, or perhaps worship with her tongue the plentiful labia that fan out on either side of her mother's thrusting and stroking fingers? For what seems like an age Michelle is captivated by her mother's exposed derriere whilst her mother is captivated by the cock that thrusts towards her; and as her fingers copy those that play before her, she rushes towards her orgasm hoping only to see Leia reach hers before her.

Mom... Oh,Mom...

Can she hold back? She's close, so close, but her fingers won't slow down. She closes her eyes. Trembles in pleasure. Wishes that she could cry out her love. That she could tell her kind and gentle mother every one of the disgustingly dirty fantasies that she has about her, then re-enact in real life whichever Leia liked the best.

I love you, Mom!I want you!

Oh Mom, I'm gonna cum!

She opens her eyes. Stares at the middle-aged woman lain on her side before her. Realizes that the hand that she watched so intently has moved from its position between gently bronzed thighs. Has she climaxed already? Is she wanking him with both hands? She looks upward eagerly, but she finds her mother lain motionless with her head upon her lover's hip.

"Damn fucking trousers!"

A barely-audible curse, so filled with frustration and resignation that Michelle feels no amusement at her mother's so-rare use of bad language. What's wrong? She pauses her fingers immediately, the previously so-imminent orgasm washed away by a pang of guilt that she had failed to observe the difficulties that her mother had run into. A pang of disgust and regret that she could have been so stupid as to have failed to predict it.

Trousers. Buttoned. For many men finding a clit and stroking it in just the right way was difficult, but for all the mastery that her mother had acquired in that art, the dexterity required to unbutton a pair of trousers was far beyond her.

"Timothy!...Please wake up, Timothy!"

Despair and resignation. Michelle felt awful. Lay helpless to aid the woman that she loved. Able only to pray that either Timothy would awaken, or that her mother would resign herself to sleep and wake up with him both ready and eager to let her pleasure him once they were alone.

"Michelle?..."

And then a whisper that she had never thought to hear.

"Mom?"

She replies instantly, for her instinct reacts faster than her thoughts; then clutches one hand to her mouth and curses her stupidity. Should she have replied? Should she have admitted that she had seen her mom not only so helpless and desperate, but also in an act undeniably private and personal without the barrier of a web-cam?

She sees her mother roll over to face her. Sees her eyes weak and moist. Her lips trembling slightly. Sees in her face the helpless resignation that she had heard in her earlier whisper with just a hint of hope behind her eyes.

"Would you... Please would you help me?... With Timothy's trousers?"

She feels herself nodding her head. Realizes just in time that she is naked, that there is no way that her mother won't be able to see her arousal. To guess what she was doing and more importantly who she was watching. Decides that it's unimportant if she can help her mother to obtain some measure of the happiness that she showed earlier.

"I will... But.. But, I'll get dressed first?"

"Or I'll get undressed?" her mother blushes. Smiles. Brushes her hand upward to lift the uppermost side of her opened blouse so that her gorgeous, gently rounded breasts are exposed. The teats as swollen and engorged as they were during the sex-show the night before. Full. Begging to be sucked and pulled upon.

"Then undressed." Michelle giggles quietly in reply. Crawls on her hands and knees to join her mother as the older woman works her way out of her blouse. Did she see a hint of interest in her hanging and swinging breasts upon her mother's face? She kneels facing her. Chest forward a fraction. Legs parted. Does she find her daughter's tits as gorgeous as her daughter finds hers? Does her heart race at the sight of her daughter's dripping pussy in the same way that Michelle's races at the sight of hers beneath the skirt turned belt? "What do y-you want me to do?"

She flushes. Curses her nerves. Prays that her mother might one day see how much she desires her. That she might one day take charge. Might take her. Wishes that her baby sister was there with her to give her courage and immoral support.

"T-This."

A finger-tip atop the bulge that has shrunk somewhat but that still looks overwhelming.

Oh fucking God...

Michelle feels her heart skip a beat. Glances at the handsome face that looks so peaceful. Looks down at the finger that hesitates then trails decisively down towards his thighs.

"I want you to get this out."

How drunk is she? How far will she go?!

She swallows. Doesn't have the strength to look at her mother. Prays that she will feel a hand between her thighs as she obeys. Perhaps a tongue as well. A strap-on afterwards...

Maybe she'll back out?... Oh God, I hope not...

"Okay."

She leans forward. Can't help gazing at the bulge before lifting her hands upward. Her first one. Her first one, and it'shis. She feels her pussy dribble its juices onto her thighs. Takes three attempts to unbutton the trousers, then somehow manages to direct her shaking hands to pull the zip down in one easy go. Fuck, it sounds loud. She feels exhausted. Stares at the bulging boxer-shorts. Herdad's cock. He's not her dad, but she's certain that it must feel the same. That nothing could feel more thrilling, nothing more taboo than baring Timothy's manhood for the mother who has never shown any sign of anything bar adoration towards her.

Boxers.

She urges herself onward. Grips the thin cotton hem then lifts them away from his taut belly. Eases them down. Black hair. Soft. Loosely curled. Pale purple lips atop a dark-red helmet. A surprisingly pale pink foreskin bunched up about the base of the helmet. Sothat's what made her cum. He's not fully erect. His cock looks like it's never been used despite the fact that she's seen it pushing into a dizzying array of women. It's pinker than she thought. Smoother. Like a boys, perhaps. But far, far too large. She swallows. Decides that she'll spend her next wage on upgrading the web-cams. Ultra high definition, maybe. She pulls the boxers down as far as the trousers will let her.

The balls feel soft. Warm. Alive and gently moving beneath her fingers. The shaft twitches. Stiffens and starts to swell whilst she stares in awe. Starts to jut skyward as she wonders how much sperm he holds within the balls whose skin contracts against her fingers.

"Mom..."

She looks at her mother. Sees a touch of colour on the bronzed cheeks that must be a thousand times paler than those on her own. Has no wits left to feel disappointment that her mother hasn't taken advantage of her bare and raised posterior.

"T-thank you, darling."

Her mother smiles. Looks so calm. So in control. So completely the opposite of how Michelle feels. She pushes herself forward. Goes to grasp her lover's jutting member then pauses.

"Please could -"

"I'm sorry!"

Michelle moves quickly. Kneels on the other side of Timothy. Watches her darling, beloved mother work her way upward until she can rest her head upon her lover's washboard belly; his erection jutting skyward before her, the helmet now fully exposed.