The Bradford Family Saga Part 3

The passing night had opened a Pandora's Box of sexual desire, and once started on their erotic path, they had a demanding lust to taste and feel it all.

"Ahhhh!" Peter moaned. "Yeah! That's it, Mom, suck! Lick my balls, Marsha ... do it, babe! Yeah! Yeah! Suck 'em good!"

Marsha had taken half of his ballsac in her mouth and was sucking gently on a testicle. Each sudden movement of her hot mouth sent a wild shiver up his spine, making his cock jerk and twitch in Carol's educated mouth; her powerful cheek muscles coaxing it back to steely dimensions. His body was alive with electric thrills.

Peter bent over and spread his mother's legs, dislodging Marsha's grip on her firm tits, baring her thick, blonde pussy-muff. He could easily see her puffy cunt-lips through the sticky tangle. They twinkled, pink and pretty.

"Oh, sweet pussy! I'm going to eat your cunt 'til you scream for mercy!"

Carol wiggled her hips in invitation. With his prick embedded in her mouth, Marsha still sucking his balls, Peter began to run his tongue, ever so gently, around the outer lips of her wet pussy. Like a flower, they parted and her rosy clit popped out, immediately becoming distended. He swiped at it with his warm tongue, then nibbled at it with sharp teeth.

Carol jumped and tried to yell, but his cock choked off the muted sound. She jumped even higher when Marsha's tongue joined her brother's. One gentle, one rough; Carol reveled in the double tongue-fucking. Her legs were pulled up and back, giving her lovers access to her entire body. The gentle tongue - Marsha's - laved her puckered asshole, bathing the dark opening with hot saliva. Peter's fat tongue - a little prick - darted in and out of her searing pussy, sliding over her sizzling clit as it dipped down into the boiling depths of her secret opening.

Chills and shivers attacked her body and her sensory system registered thrill after thrill as the two, snake-like tongues slithered up, over, in, and around her hot fuck holes. Her body was rapidly going out of control, and each new sensation slammed her gyrating hips against their faces as they fought to give her the cum of her life.

Carol squeezed Peter's ass as hard as she could, desperately holding on as her climax built to a screaming crescendo. Her hips twisted and turned, and humped greedily against the relentless, pleasure-giving tongues. She was strangling, gasping for breath. Spitting his cock out, she screamed her passion loudly.

"Aggggggg! Ughhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh! Oh, Mar, stop! For Christ's sake, stop! ... I'm dying! Please, no more. No more! I can't take it! Oh, Peter ... hummmmmmm!" Her body hung in space for what seemed like an eternity, then softly melted into the mattress, spent and exhausted.

Cum-juice smeared his face and saliva dribbled down his chin. Panting, Peter stood up slowly. Marsha's head was now buried deep between her mother's spread thighs, her tongue softly tapering her off; cooling the inner walls of her fiery cunt, cleaning the sticky juices of her passion from the sides. Carol's lips gently held the knob of his twitching prick, her mouth too tired to suck on the glistening shaft. His cock make a plopping noise as he pulled it from his mother's tired mouth.

Dreamily, Carol spread her legs as wide as possible, giving her daughter complete access to her innermost being. The feeling was still there, still alive! Marsha's tongue was slowly bringing her down from a sexual high never experienced before. She had been eaten by her son and daughter - at the same time! And she had loved it!

Her breathing was returning to normal and she felt a slight chill as she became aware of the cool, early morning air on her perspiring body. They had fucked the night away, she though lazily.

"Good, wasn't it, Mom?"

"Oh, sweetheart, it was better than good. I thought my body was going to explode. I can't describe it. You'll have to experience it for yourself."

Marsha's smile broadened and her eyes flashed. "I was hoping you'd say that. When you feel up to it, I want to be next!"

Carol looked at Marsha in sudden excitement. This was more than she could have hoped for. Like mother, like daughter!

"Peter?" she asked.

Peter sat on the bed, eyes aglow. "I'll watch this time. I've always wanted to see two women eat each other out." He smiled at his sister. "This is what you two did last night, isn't it?"

Giggling, Marsha nodded, then her voice turned serious.

"When I came home I was looking for something, Pete, besides just fucking you. Now I've found it. I found out I'm just like Mom. I want it all ... all the Bradford men, and" - she looked lovingly at her mother - "all the Bradford women." She laughed and her eyes sparkled.

"Mom broke me in first, then she did you, and then we did each other. And now," she said, winking at her mother, "we're going to put on a show for you, aren't we?"

Carol leaned over and kissed her daughter lightly, a motherly kiss, a kiss of pride; then winked at Peter. "We sure are!" she said, her chest beginning to rise with excitement.

Smiling like a cat, Marsha sat against the headboard, drew her legs up and spread them wide apart, giving them a close-up view of her pink pussy, surrounded by a mat of thick, blonde hair. She fondled her large, round tits, making the nipples stand taut and erect; her eyes closing as the smoldering heat of her body began to flow.

Peter licked his lips and felt his cock stir. Shit, he thought in admiration, a real sex machine!

"Com'on, Mom, eat me!" Marsha purred. "Suck my juicy slit! Eat my dirty cunt!"

Trembling, her own lust beginning to simmer, Carol crawled between Marsha's open thighs; her fingertips gently running up and down the silky flesh. Softly, she kissed a rock-hard nipple.

Peter looked from one to the other, from mother to daughter. It was like looking at twins. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen and he realized it could only happen this way; with them linked together as a loving and fucking family. His chest swelled with love and affection.

Giggling like a young girl, Carol said, "Oh, yes, baby! I'm gonna eat you! And I'm going to eat you ass, too; stick my tongue all the way up there. I don't know where you learned that, but I'm so glad you did."

Marsha threw her head back and hugged her mother close.

"Daddy taught me," she said laughing. "I sort of forgot to tell you, but last night, while you were fucking Peter I was fucking Daddy. And he screwed my ass and taught me about ass-rimming."

"What?! You did what?"

"Are you mad?" Marsha asked, suddenly and sincerely contrite.

Carol's mouth hung open, her eyes wide in amazement. "I can't believe this," she said, "Where is he? What's he doing? What does he feel about all this?"

Marsha shrugged. "When I left, he was sleeping like a baby. At first, he tried to push me off, but, I guess, my pussy got to him and he just started fucking me. Real good, too! He really didn't seem to mind afterwards. He said I was just like you."

"You just left him? Oh, the poor baby. He's probably going crazy trying to figure out how to tell me." She covered her face and laughed. "And to think, I was worried about how I was going to tell him about Peter. Oh, I can't wait to see the look on his face." Carol started to get up.

"Oh, no you don't," Peter said, pushing her close to Marsha, "Not before you two finish what you started. You guys promised me a show."

Mother and daughter looked from one another to Peter's straining cock, the tip, flared and angry looking. "Well," Marsha said smiling, "we did say we were going to put on a show."

"Yes, we did," Carol girlishly giggled. "And your tits are still quite warm."

"So's my cunt," Marsha whispered.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Carol dipped between Marsha's open legs and began to lick at her cunt and savor its musky aroma. Feather-like, her tongue darted in and out of her daughter creamy pussy; a dainty teasing touch that made the heat rise in Marsha's body, and made her tingle with pleasure.

Marsha smiled and through slitted eyes she watched her brother stroke his big fuck-pole to its full proportions and her own pleasure doubled as she watched. His lust was her pleasure; his pleasure, her passion. In the back of her mind she knew why the family had committed their lovemaking to film.

Peter became caught up in the voyeuristic pleasure of watching. He saw his sister's face contort, her brow crease, and her jaws clinch as each wave of ecstasy washed over her. He saw Carol's head bob rhythmically, and in his mind's eye he could see the tip of her tongue dip in and out Marsha's sopping cunt.

Carol's lovely ass stuck straight up in the air, two perfect half-moons, beckoning to him. His father had fucked that ass, his fevered brain told him. His father had fucked Marsha's lovely ass! His prick ached to fuck one of the asses that his father had fucked.

Carol felt the pressure on her cuntlips; the sudden parting. She felt the rough ridges of his prick rub the wall of her wet pussy. Her eyes clouded over and she moaned loudly into her daughter cunt as her son's cock filled her up. Marsha felt the extra weight against her body and opened her eyes. "Oh, yes, Peter, Yes! Fuck her cunt! Hard!" Marsha mumbled passionately as she rubbed Carol's back and tits, squeezing them roughly, urging her humping hips onward.

His cock sank to the base in Carol's sticky wetness, becoming drenched with her flowing juices. He leaned forward, grabbed his sister's round tits and kissed her hungrily, his tongue probing deep in her warm, searching mouth.

They were now completely linked. Joined by mouth, pussy and cock. Each was transported to another dimension, yet each was with the other. The past had caught up with the present. Fantasy had become reality.

Peter strained his legs; his rotating hips pressed tightly against his mother's butt, his twisting cock embedded all the way up her heated box. He could feel her developed cunt muscles, like tiny fingers, massage the shaft of his throbbing prick. Each squeeze of his cock sent blinding ripples of pleasure to his brain, urging his lust on. When he stuck his cock in Carol's puckered asshole, they all came in unison, and their passion, their love could be heard throughout the house. And they didn't care.

CHAPTER TEN

When Mike Bradford woke up he felt hungover. His head thundered and his body ached in places he didn't know it was possible to hurt in. Bleery-eyed, he looked around. Marsha was gone, but the imprint of her body remained.

So, it wasn't a dream, he thought. I actually fucked my own daughter! Adopted daughter! Splitting hairs seemed to take some of the sting out of the incestuous act. To his surprise, he really didn't feel any real, deep remorse. Marsha was an adult, and it was she who initiated it. But why? Was it possible she found out about their secret and was trying, in some insidious way, to punish them. Nonsense, he thought. How could she? But where the hell was Carol when all this was going on? And where was she now?

He staggered up, started to stretch and stopped short. Oh, shit, he thought, Carol knows! That must be it; somehow she found out, maybe she heard them, and she's pissed. That's why she isn't here. Angrily, he slapped his head and instantly regretted it.

"Hi, sleepy-head!"

Carol closed the door behind her. Mike noted that she was smiling. Maybe, he hoped, she didn't know.

The white, silk robe was loosely belted and the material clung to hills and valleys of her body. He knew she was naked beneath it.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked innocently.

Mike looked her in the eye. "You know, don't you?"

Laughing, she embraced him. "Oh, you poor dear! Yes, I know about you and Marsha. She told me."

"She told you?" he asked incredulously. "This is crazy! What the hell's gotten into her?"

"Besides you?" Carol giggled, then, seriously, she said, "I think you better sit down, Mike. This is probably going to blow you away."

Mike sat. Taking his hand she told her astonished husband the entire story; starting at the beginning with Marsha's confession about her lust for Peter and ending with their fantastic three-way, gang fuck. She told it quickly, leaving nothing out, but gaguing his reaction to each event; preparing to blunt any hint of jealously or anger. She was pleasantly surprised when there wasn't any, just a wide-eyed, dumbfounded look. When she finished, she waited for his final reaction; laughing when he flopped back on the bed, let out a deep sigh, and said, "Holy Shit!"

She threw herself across his naked body. "Does that mean you're not angry about Peter and me? I mean, I'm not the least bit jealous of you and Marsha. I hope you really enjoyed her as much as I did, and Peter. She's really something."

Mike threw up his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"I'm not jealous ... well, I had a twinge," he admitted, "but I really got over that shit a long time ago. Actually, I'm kind of proud of my son. If half of what you said is true, he's a hellava stud."

"Take it from me, honey," Carol said, sitting up, "it's all true. I have the sore ass to prove it."

"Carol," he said, genuine concern in his voice, "is there something wrong with our blood? I mean, first us, and now the kids."

She caressed his cheek. "Honey, if we could come to the conclusion that convention was just so much man-made bullshit, don't you think our kids can, too?

"Just think how much more time they have. The sky's the limit for them; no excess baggage, no worrying about convention and restrictions, just taking their pleasure where they can find it.

"As long as they don't hurt anybody, how can anything they do; anything we've done, be bad. I really envy them. And I know I want them so much. Really want them."

Mike stood and folded his arms around her. "You're a wise woman, Mrs. Bradford." Then he chucked. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"If you mean a weekend of pure, unadulterated sex. You're damn right, Mr. Bradford!" Carol said, leeringly.

"The kids are only home for a couple of days, and I, for one, intend to make the most of it. I really hope you slept well, 'cause I don't think you're going to get much more."

Laughing, they embraced warmly.

From the door she blew him a kiss. "Take a shower and hurry downstairs. I told Marsha to put the coffee on, and I'm going to make breakfast."

Mike smiled and stretched. He felt very much alive and surprisingly horny. It's amazing what a special woman can do for you, he thought. And Marsha was special. Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw teeth marks on his chest and long, vivid nail marks on his back. No wonder I hurt, he thought. An image of his wanton daughter leaped to his mind: her body wiggling in abandon, bouncing against the mattress, legs tight around his back, hands gripping his ass and balls. He saw her lust, her desperate desire for fulfillment; felt her tits under his hands, his juice-covered cock plunging into her silky wetness, stretching her cunt wide, her secretions lubricating his way. He could still feel the muscles of her cunt contract around his cockhead, squeezing it in a death grip as her climax ripped through her churning body; his own following seconds later, their cums mixing together. Mike shook himself to clear his head. The mental picture were vivid, and very real. Just thinking about last night made his breathing rapid and started his prick to rise.

He stepped into the shower and turned it to cold, the stinging water cooled his heated body. No, he thought to himself, gasping, that wasn't some sort of reverse punishment. That was just a very lusty woman who wanted to fuck! And fuck we did! And suck ... and, shit, he thought, what didn't we do? Laughing, he remembered screwing her up the ass, and telling her that she was just like her mother. Oh, shit, I hope she doesn't tell Carol that.

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