*Author's Note: This is a supplementary story to "Impregnation". It should stand alone as a good erotic tale, but it may be worthwhile to read them in order. Please do not repost this story without the author's express consent or permission.
Wow. I'm four months into it now and I am starting to really show. I am going home to tell my dad and sisters today. Not the fact that it is my Dad's baby, mind you, but that I'm pregnant. I'm sure this will send them all for a loop. Tamara (my oldest sister) has always been the mature one and will ask me all sorts of questions about whether or not I'm prepared for the significance of what I'm doing. Amanda, my younger sister, is the sweetheart all-American girl. She'll just be happy for me and want to know all the gushy emotional details. And my Dad, in all his maturity, will probably drink.
It is still definitely my big secret that I managed to get pregnant by him on Valentine's Day when he was drunk, but we'll save that piece of information for later (or never, which is probably more likely).
I'm a bit apprehensive about this. I have always been a bit of a rebel in the family and never really followed the expected route. And being the first one to have a baby without another parent figure in the picture will probably create all sorts of issues. Especially with Tamara. She just got married a year and a half ago and now thinks that she is the head hen. I'm not so convinced that her life is as together as she says it is, but so long as she is managing it alright, its not really any of my business.
I arrived at the house a bit past one in the afternoon and discovered that everyone had gotten the day kicked off without me. They were all back in the pool, swimming, relaxing, and having a generally good time. I watched them for a bit from the kitchen window until I decided that it was inevitable that I go out and join them.
So I, being the little minx that I am, decided to do the grand unveiling in typical Athena style. I put on a bathing suit, and with a decided swagger to my baby bump, I strode through the sliding glass door and onto the deck.
Dad was the first to spot me and he started the wave of greetings.
"Hey, how ya been? It's good to see you," he yelled from the shallow end, a beer in his hand.
Amanda resurfaced and yelled up her greetings. "Hey sis! Missed ya!"
Tamara just turned and gave me a half-hearted wave from the lawn chair she was sprawled across. I knew she saw the unique weight addition when her head cocked around right quick.
"You've put on some weight Thena," she said like it was the most obvious fact in the world.
"And you're as blunt as ever," I retorted with a childish grin. I could see Amanda eyeing my tummy now suspiciously and Tamara's gaze had not wavered from beneath her sun glasses. Busted! Well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself.
"I'm not just fat Tamara. I happen to be pregnant." I waited for the reactions to the bombshell. A stream of random statements, questions, and obscenities came at me from everywhere.
"You're what?!" (Tamara)
"Whose the father?" (Tamara)
"Boy or girl?" (Amanda)
And finally a unified congratulations was put together by the three wonderful members of my close knit family. Everyone had abandoned their previous positions and were hastily approaching me. I felt like a deer being circled by wolves. Or lions, maybe.
Then the petting of my stomach began. Everyone always wants to pet a pregnant woman's stomach like it's the most natural thing in the world. It's not! If you ever get the urge to pet someone's stomach, don't! I learned that lesson right then and there. Geez, it's creepy.
I started slapping hands away as I gave my long winded practice explanation as to when, who, where, what, how, etc.
"Before Gina and I had broken up, we had decided to have a kid. We wanted to do it naturally so we had a mutual gay friend of ours do it. Course, Gina broke up with me, and forgot to tell my eggs. Now they're nice and fertilized and I am four months along. The baby is due in early to mid-November. I'm not sure what it is, and I don't want to find out till the end of my second trimester. There. Everyone happy? Good. Go back to swimming, and for god's sake stop petting me!"
I had managed to get that whole little spiel out in one breath. I was a bit worried that if I paused, I would forget my little story. And I really meant the part about not petting me. Seriously, people, its weird.
And on that note I cannon-balled into the pool. I got water up my nose when I laughed because I thought it was funny that I was literally and metaphorically making a splash. Amanda joined me, and a disconcerted Tamara returned to her lawn chair. Dad went inside to get another drink (it ended up being a whole other case of beer).
Amanda and I swam and giggled and played and messed around like we were still in high school. The two of us had always gotten along really well, partially because we were closer in age, and partially because Tamara was a bitch back then. She was our mommy after our real mother died. And no one wants to listen to someone they feel they are equal with bossing them around. But in our old and wizened years we realized that she had done a pretty good job of watching out for us and protecting us from foolish stuff. For that we had to appreciate her.
By the time we made it out of the pool, Dad had finished off a case of beer and Tamara had managed to turn a bright red color from overexposure to the sun. Amanda and I giggled to each other as her glowing backside swished away from us. Tamara gave us a dirty look over her shoulder.
She was always the perfect evil sister, even if she wasn't evil and simply had to grow up faster then anyone else. But she was skinnier then Amanda and I, had darker hair, and sharper features. Tamara was attractive, very attractive, but wasn't as sexy as Amanda or I. What do I mean exactly by that? Well, if you saw Tamara and Amanda standing in a club or in a bar or someplace, you would go and talk to or listen to Amanda. She seems fun, acts fun, looks fun. Tamara just looks more reserved, a little more domineering. She tended to scare guys. And her new husband was a pussy to fit the bill. Jim would never argue with his wife. Just nod his head and bow out of the fight before it started. I had to stifle a giggle as I thought of a stormy Tamara marching him off to bed.
I think my little surprise was probably the switch that threw the whole get together into a different gear.
Dad was drinking more by now and his face had a familiar ruddy glow to it. He was working himself down the path of inebriation once more. And Tamara was drinking too, which was a rarity. Normally she was the designated driver, sitter, talker, eater, and the designated prude. But I think the fact that rebel Athena got pregnant before her kind of put her in a sour mood that she wanted to drink away. Amanda sipped headily on a beer, her drinks very effeminate and genteel. She managed to make a Bud can look natural for a pretty blonde to carry.
But me, good ole straight-laced Athena, staid dry. Of course it was just for the fact I was pregnant otherwise I would have been under the table before any of them.
We sat around for a bit drinking and chatting, but mostly just drinking. There was one more trip out to the pool and numerous trips to the bathroom before the rest of my party managed to find itself inebriated before dinner. Tamara and Dad retired to their respective rooms on the second floor and I helped Amanda to our old room down the hallway from theirs. I gently laid my sister on the bed and headed for the shower. Amanda was a bit giggly and I wanted her to calm down a bit before I returned to the room.
I have always loved showers as a way of relaxing and refreshing oneself. When everything just seems to be a bit frantic or haywire, you can always count on a good shower and lather to get yourself right back into proper spirits. By the time I stepped from the steaming enclosure, I was feeling mighty find. I wrapped a towel around my waist and was heading down the hall when I heard a loud giggle coming from my Dad's room.
Thinking I might be missing on some fun I wheeled it around and was about to go in. But I froze in my tracks with the door cracked open when I realized what I was seeing.
Tamara and Dad were on the bed, her leg thrown casually over his and her head propped on one arm while her other rested on bare chest. Dad had an obvious erection in his swimming trunks and a beer in one hand while the other cradled his own head.
"He's such a wimp. I can't believe I married him. I don't know what I was thinking. And now Athena's pregnant and my dickless wonder of a husband can't get it up without a good hours work over. And even then he lasts all of two minutes."
My drunk father's reply sounded like some very sympathetic gibberish.
"Daddy, where did I go wrong? Why couldn't I get pregnant before Athena. Just once I'd like to get something she didn't have."
Another garbled reply from my drunk father, but apparently Tamara understood it. I was more curious then ever at the compromising permission of the two and was interested in seeing what I could glean from them. Normally Tamara never let her guard down long enough to reveal any weakness, but now she was talking her way into a hole.
"Yeah, that's true. I wish he was more like you. Remember the ride home from Colorado?" I was curious to know what this meant. We always went on trips to Colorado every summer and I wasn't particularly aware of any applicable relevance.
My father's grunted response egged her on.
"Remember our first time?" Warning bells! First time!? Tamara and Dad!?!? No fucking way! I couldn't believe it. She must mean something else.
But no! A hand grab of Dad's tent told me that first time meant FIRST TIME. Impossible! Out of breath and stunned to silence I just watched.
Tamara continued her squeezing of that familiar piece of meat while she kept adding details to the Colorado trip.
"Remember Thena and Manda were sleeping in the back seat in the old Suburban. You told me how pretty I was. You told me I looked like Mom. Then you said that you were glad I was eighteen. And I asked you why." Tamara was starting to stroke the length of manhood pressing into the synthetic trunk material. Its length was well outlined by the touch of her hand and the strain it produced in the fabric.
"You told me because you were lonely. I told you that I was there for you. You said that you had other needs that hadn't been taken care of in a while. I asked you what they were. And you told me about the bird's and the bees for a second time in my life. Course, you had your hand on my breast when you told me that time."
My dad was groaning and thrusting into Tamara's hand, still clutching his beer. I was confounded by the revelation about my sister and father. I had no idea! No fucking idea!
"You just kept it there, over my t-shirt, waiting for me to do something. And when I unbuttoned my top, I still remember the deep breath you took. It's a good thing it was night or we could have gotten in trouble. I let you play with my breasts and nipples. You really liked that. And when I put the blanket over my waist and took off my pants, I think you were about ready to come right there. Course Amanda woke up then and had to go to the bathroom. Ha!"
For the first time I heard my Dad say something legible. "Shit, Tammy."
Tamara's hand continued lazily plucking at Dad's shaft for a few seconds as he writhed beneath her touch. She pulled at his drawstring on his shorts and pulled the waistband down beneath the head of his cock. Her bare hand touched the exposed tip gently, fingers dancing over it. For a moment she looked distracted then she went back to her story telling, her legs pulling up beneath her and allowing her to sit over my father.
"But once we hit the road again and we were sure everyone was asleep you didn't lose any time did you? I had only played with myself until then and had never really felt a man's hands in my cunny. But Mommy had taught you well, hadn't she?" This little conversational turn got my father to push one of his hands between my sister's thighs. The straightening of her back suddenly told me that he had found what he was looking for. Tamara was still in her bikini, her red skin aglow with the warm light of the bedroom.
She was panting now. "Yeah. That's how you did it. You fingered me quick and deep. You fucked me with your fingers. Oh, yeah. That's how you did it." Tamara's eyes had closed and she was rocking on his fingers, obviously enjoying his machinations between her pussy lips. From my vantage point I could see nothing but my sister's hand on my dad's cock and her little navy colored bikini bottoms bouncing up and down on his hidden fingers. Daddy's hand went to her breast now, squeezing and lifting her tit through the small patch of material that covered her chest.
"That is how a real man should touch me, and Jim just doesn't have what you have." This statement was followed by action. Tamara finished pulling Dad's penis from his drawers and moved to straddle him. His fingers went with her, but she quickly swatted them away as her spare hand busied itself pulling her bottoms to the side. Now from my vantage point I could see my Dad's cock angling straight for my sister's exposed gash.
Tamara didn't just lower herself on the dick. She plunged herself on it. It was a forceful downward push that buried him deeply in her. She let out a long satisfied sigh of relief. As her bouncing began on the prick, I found my own hand sliding between my own pussy lips beneath my towel. I couldn't believe how soaked I was watching this little scene unfold before me.
Up until then, I had managed to excuse my actions with my father as a form of glorified masturbation. But now, as an incestuous voyeur, I could not deny the arousal and gratification that my father's cock had brought me.
It seemed as if far too much time had gone by since Tamara had a ride and her lithe body quickly began to ride the dick. Only three or four inches of his length were allowed to escape her twat in the up and down motion she managed atop him. Her hips gyrated with each rise and fall, swiveling his girth within her sensitive lips.
Tamara's dirty little mouth went to work once more, as my fingers tried to keep up with her blistering pace.
"Still incredible! You, ugh, filled me, ugh, so full, ugh, just like, ugh, now! Fuck. Oh, fuck yes."
I almost allowed my cries to add to her own but managed to shrink to the floor as an orgasm tore through me. I had been so caught up in watching their fucking that I had failed to realize how close I was. Over and over again I would watch my older, more mature and reserved sister, cry out in delight atop my father. She would finally reach her peak, just after he had reached his and would crumble atop him, a quivering mass. I staid for a moment longer as she rode out the remainder of her orgasm by grinding on his softening cock.
The way the light hit her backside and crotch left a bright sheen of their bodies fluids on each. I could see my dad's cum leaking out of my sister's pussy.
By then I was slightly concerned that I might be caught and quickly returned to my bedroom.
My pussy was still revolting against my heart, not wanting to slow its erratic pace or calm itself. I could feel a thin trail of my juices trailing from beneath my towel, but I ignored it, eager to escape the intensity of this new discovery. That image of their sexes meeting and union stuck with me even as I slipped into bed beside Amanda.
Her closed eyes winked open at me when she saw me slip in.
She gave me a whispered "hey" before closing them again. I was glad for the moment that she said nothing else. Course, being a member of my family, she wouldn't let it stop at that. She rolled over and rested one hand on my growing bump. Amanda scratched it through the towel lightly, before speaking.
"You smell like you've been masturbating," and then she broke down in giggles.
"How did you know?" Oops. "I mean why do you think that?" Great recovery.
"You forget that you and I are a lot alike. You smell like me when I masturbate." Then she broke out in another round of giggles.
"I wasn't masturbating! I just took a shower!"
"I heard the shower go off about fifteen minutes ago. What happened to you, did you slip?"
"Shut up! I wasn't frigging myself, you little brat!"
She lunged on top of me, straddling my chest with her backside hovering in front of my face. "If you weren't frigging yourself, why is your pussy leaking all over your legs, huh?"
Although Amanda managed to catch me in my lie there, she also revealed her own.
With her backside and crotch so close to my face, I caught a heady scent of her pussy's juices.
"You were fingering yourself too, you slut!"
"Nuh-uh!" She tried to resist my accusations but her wiggling tush spread the aromatic scent of her play time around my face. After a particularly harsh bite to her buttock she wheeled on me and surrendered.
"Fine. I saw you in the hall frigging yourself, watching Dad frigging Tamara and decided to frig myself. So there!"
Amanda looked down at me with a self-pleased look on her face. It was the old, if everyone else is doing it, why shouldn't I logic. And I had never been good at beating that one.
But her answer gave me a little more perplexity. "How did you know Tamara and Dad were..."
She cut me off with a matter of fact tone; "Tammy and Dad? It's been going on for years. Why do you think she bothers coming home at all. Besides, its not like she's the only one who's took advantage of our father's pervert tendencies."
"What! I nev...." But again I was cut off by my sister. I had been about to passionately deny any such involvement, but she had another smug grin on her face and I realized she was referring to herself.
"Yes. Sweet little Mandy did her Daddy."
"I can't believe it. You and Tammy! And Dad! How many times?"
"Only three or four. I didn't find out about it until last year. Then I made Daddy do me too."
"You are a slut!"
"Don't pretend like you don't want it to. I saw the way you came in the hall. You wanted the both of them just as bad as I do. You're the real slut here."
"Fuck you!" I managed in a stunned half jest, half serious tone.
"Don't mind if you do," Amanda said and promptly sat on my face.
My nose and my mouth were buried in her crotch and backside and I was immediately filled with the flavorful smell of her pussy and its arousal. I tried struggling against her but she kept my legs pinned against the bed. I was about two minutes into my struggle for air and freedom when I came to the realization that she was grinding her pussy on my face.
This notion stilled me. Amanda and I had played when we were younger- exploring our own sexuality and bodies, but it had never passed the innocence of curiosity. But her movements over my lips and chin and nose were deliberately designed to extract pleasure from her sensitive region.
Despite my lack of motion, Amanda continued the regular pressure on my mouth. As I have said before, I am bisexual, and the proximity of my sister's great ass had me all stirred up again. I didn't need to free myself to get what I wanted. Amanda knew enough to act for me. Before I could say a word, she had cleared my crotch of my towel and had lowered her head to my groin.
This was the first time I had felt my sister's tongue caress my pussy, but the electric spark was so intense that I determined it would not be my last. My hands reached up and clutched at her backside, gripping the smooth cheeks in my palms. I dug my nails into them, avoiding the small patch of material that split her crack and nuzzled its way into her pussy.