A Girl from a Broken Home

Franklin let me rest for a bit. "I'll have to thank Mary Beth for having taught you so well how to pleasure a woman," I said. I had finally remembered his secretary's name is Mary Beth.

"She didn't teach me," Franklin said. "Your high school friend Susan did."

I sat up straight. "You fucked Susan?!!?" I screamed.

"You didn't know? You were fucking my college friends. Susan told me all about what you were doing with them. Every little detail that you told her, made it to my eager ears. You didn't know? I had always thought you told her as a way of telling me. I love it. Susan thought that, too. Want to know a secret?"

I just looked at him.

"I was pretending Susan was you every time I fucked her brains out," my brother said.

I just looked at him.

"What's the big deal? And what about your first serious boyfriend Josh? Surely you fucked him, yes?" Franklin dug his hole deeper.

"Yes. Yes, I did. A lot, in fact. He fucked all my holes. Many times. Happy?"

"And he passed you around to his friends, and you fucked them for him, too. Right?"

"No! Certainly not!" I said.

"Yes, you did."

"No, I did not. No." I said. Then I added, for emphasis, "No, no, no,"

"Yes," he said. "It's okay, Celeste. Who am I to judge? I'm about to fuck your brains out."

"You are?" I said, suddenly scared at the prospect. "You're my brother, Franklin. Fucking would be incest."

"Incest is fun. I thought you already knew that, but I guess not." Franklin pushed me down onto my back, he spread my legs, he climbed up on me and he stuck it inside me. His cock found a wet and ready pussy.

"Holy shit you feel nice," I said. And then cursing myself, I began to moan as he began to pump.

After a while of Franklin's wonderful fucking I thought of Mom's advice about bringing condoms. I mumbled "condom" at that point.

Franklin pulled out, slipped on a condom, and then he fucked me but good! He lasted a long time and then shot his load deep inside me. I was glad he was wearing a rubber, since it was the time of month when my fertility was high.

When Franklin's cock first entered me, I was filled with more emotions than I could explain. First and foremost was the special lust that comes from forbidden sex. I was amazed I was fucking my brother. My own brother! The man I had grown up with, to whom I had always looked up, idolizing, thinking he was wonderful, and hoping a man like him would someday sweep me off my feet.

I now realized I had fucked his friends back when I was 18, just to please him. It was fun, sure, and I was young and stupid. But somehow I knew, deep down, that they were all proxies for Franklin himself. That Susan was telling him everything, and he was getting off on it, made it suddenly clear to me. And now here he was, with his lovely cock buried inside me. I wanted to remember this moment forever.

When he was done, I wanted more. I wanted much more. I have eleven more condoms, I wickedly thought. I went down on him, cleaning up his cock and nursing it back to health. I think I'm pretty good at that. Lord knows, I've had enough practice.

Franklin got hard. He pushed my face off his cock, and he put me on all fours, and he entered me from behind. I sighed the contented sigh of a thousand sighs. But then he abruptly pulled out and stuck his rubber covered cock directly into my asshole.

Thank God the rubbers are lubricated! I had only done anal with one man before, with Josh of course, but I wanted to do it with Franklin. I wanted to do everything with Franklin. All of it.

After he shot his load into my ass, we both collapsed and rested a bit. Franklin surprised me when he said, "Tell me why you agreed to fuck so many of Josh's friends while he watched. Why did you let him pass you around?"

"I told you I did not do that," I said. The anger in my voice was obvious.

"Celeste, baby sister, I know that you did. What I don't know is why. Why?"

"Because your sister is a raving lunatic slut, who likes variety," I said. "There. Happy?"

It was not true. Josh had never passed me around. Even had he wanted to, and perhaps he did, I would not have done it. Actually, to be honest, he did want to pass me around. He wanted to watch me fuck his friends, and then to take me afterwards. That finally was just too weird for me. It never happened. It was bad enough I had fucked so many of my brother's friends my senior year!

On the other hand, I did end up giving myself to one or two of his friends. But this was secret; it was behind Josh's back. After all, I was cheating on Josh. Okay, maybe I had sex with three of them. Okay, okay, it was four. I could not resist the look of lust in their eyes. You must know by now I'm a sucker for a man who lusts for me. Not just a man who wants me; that's most men, it seems. No, it had to be true, unbridled lust. My senior year was a wild time, to put it mildly.

Men seemed to find me irresistible. I was under tremendous pressure to put out. All the time. It was relentless. A few times I caved. You have no idea how intense and how constant was the pressure. Josh never knew about it; I kept it secret. But maybe he did? Maybe his friends who fucked me were the type to fuck and tell? If so, doubtless they told Josh. I know men like to talk about their conquests. I could not have controlled that.

"Yep. Next question: When you did Dad, did he seduce you, or you him?"

"What makes you think I had sex with Dad?"

"Celeste, we are one fucked up family. Don't you know that by now? Our Mom is a slut, and our Dad is a male slut, only for sluts who are men, we call them philanderers. And you are irresistible, and Dad has no self-control. Now what happened with you and Dad?"

"It's not pretty, Franklin," was all I said. "That's all I'll say about it. How did you know?"

"Dad told me."

**********

What happened with Dad is a story unto itself. He figured out Mom was sleeping with men to extract revenge on him. It was working, too. I figured he would do the same: sleep with Mom's friends and neighbors to extract revenge on her.

That sounds symmetric, but it's not. Mom is a MILF, the sexiest MILF in the county, maybe the state. She is also skillful, and if she goes after a man her age, or even one older or younger, it is a rare man who can resist her. Her success rate was probably 90% or higher.

But it's more complicated for a man to go after a woman, such as a neighbor. Women are naturally suspicious and have a lot more to lose. I'm not just talking about unwanted pregnancies. Having an affair for a woman is more likely to ruin her marriage than it would be for a man. And a broken marriage often means economic distress for the woman, especially if her cheating is the cause.

Given the asymmetry of the situation, I'd say my father did well. By my reckoning, from what I know, he probably had a 30% success rate. But he felt it was not enough to really put it to my Mom. There was one target who, if he got her in bed, would drive my Mom crazy. He knew it, Mom knew it, and I knew it.

The target was me, his own daughter. I was 20 at the time, and I came home from my morning classes at the college. The house was empty, because Mom was at work, and Dad had of course moved out after the divorce. I had overslept in that morning, and I had to cut short my morning routine in order to get to class on time. So even though it was 11am, I decided to take my morning shower.

Coming out of the shower, the towels were gone. I went to the hamper, naked and dripping water everywhere, but it was empty. I heard the washing machine going. I went to the kitchen for a dish towel, at the least, but it was gone, too. I stopped, and stood still in shock. There stood my Dad, wearing only his briefs, staring at my naked body.

At twenty years of age, I had a perfect body. I had an hourglass figure. I had nicely sized boobs, a little on the large size. I had child bearing hips. And I had the soft skin of a baby's bottom. My nipples were erect, and my areolas are a lovely shade of fuchsia, and they are big.

My father explained there had been an accident at work and he was washing his clothes. He threw in the contents of the hamper, too.

Ignoring that I was naked, I said, "You're no longer allowed in this house, Dad. You should leave as soon as your clothes are done." I turned around and went to the backyard, to get a sun dry of my body. I was nude, but we have a privacy fence.

My father came out and stared at me. "What are you looking at, Dad? I'm your daughter. Go look at porn on the computer or something. Take your lecherous eyes off me." I still hated my father for what he done to Mom. My father did not move.

"What are you Dad, a pervert? Is this what you want to see?" and I opened my legs, giving him a nice view of my pussy. My voice was dripping with hate. He remained there.

"Not enough for you, pervert? Want some more? Want to see me Jill off?" I said, with clear anger.

"Yes," he said. "Do that for me, and I'll go."

I should have taken that deal. Instead I said, "In your dreams, pervert." I rolled onto my stomach, facing away from him, thereby dismissing him. I put on my sunglasses, and I closed my eyes. I should have kept my eyes on him.

After around ten minutes, I was pretty sure my back was dry, and I rolled over to let the sun warm my front. My eyes were still closed, and the sun felt yummy on my damp skin. I lay like that for around 5 minutes, when I suddenly lost the sun. It must have gone behind a cloud I figured. Well, this had been long enough, and I began to sit up when a hand pushed me back down.

I was shocked and scared and opened my eyes to see my naked father, erection raging, looming above me. He was spreading my legs apart. Now he had his body between my legs; I could not close them.

"Dad?" I said. "Dad! Let me up. Let me up this very instant!"

Dad ignored me, and instead he began to finger me. I said, "No, no, no! Stop this you pervert!" But I made another mistake. To this day I do not know why, unless of course I unconsciously wanted it. I no longer tried to get up or to get away.

My protests turned to groans, as the talents of this Casanova I always called Dad worked their magic. He fingered me like nobody else ever had. His fingers were like God's own fingers, molding me from clay. And let me tell you, if he was channeling God modeling me from clay, then God had an obsession with my clitoris.

It was pretty obvious when I came, and Dad used that moment, when a girl is at her weakest, to slip his cock inside me. He did not know it was my time of month, but probably he would not care even if he did. His cock pushed my tampon way the hell up inside me as he pumped away.

I could not believe my father was fucking me, naked, right there in our own backyard. This is incest, I thought. Incest of the first degree. As I realized that, I had three sentiments simultaneously: revulsion, shame, and a huge infusion of erotic excitement. God, I am weird, I thought to myself.

The bastard made me cum. Shortly later he shot his load deep inside me, he smiled this triumphant, malevolent smile. I pummeled his chest with my fists, and he laughed at me. He laughed! He just fucked his daughter, not just literally, but also mentally. And he was laughing about it. I squirmed out from under him and ran up to my room, sobbing.

I was so upset mostly because I loved it. I knew you're not supposed to love sex with your father. It's taboo. But of course, that is precisely why I liked it. Was it the flip side of craving the look of lust for me in men's eyes? Probably, I thought.

But I had a practical problem, too. My tampon had been forced up inside me beyond my reach. I could not find the damned little string. Jesus. I struggled for a long time, before giving up. I needed help. I gave up. I went downstairs, now fully dressed in a T shirt and a skirt, but without panties.

My Dad was still there. His clothes were in the dryer now. "I need your help," I said meekly. My father had experienced this problem before. Of course he had: the philandered had laid so many women, nothing was new to him. He knew exactly what was needed: chopsticks.

My father removed the tampon. He actually did use chopsticks, which he inserted up inside my pussy. He "thoughtfully" first massaged my pussy, getting it nice and wet with his talented fingers, "to make it less painful when I insert the chopsticks inside you," as he put it.

He got me thoroughly hot and bothered before he finally inserted the chopsticks. He served at Okinawa when he was in the military, and learning how to use chopsticks was the least dramatic thing he learned from the women who "serviced" the military base there.

He actually has quite a bit of skill in the use of chopsticks. He easily extracted the tampon. Once he removed the tampon, covered with my menstrual blood, he massaged my pussy a little more.

He had me thoroughly aroused at this point, so he once again made love to me. This time he found a willing daughter who spread her legs wide to receive him. I was not disappointed. My father is good in bed; he is very good.

It was not making love, however, it was just fucking. It was once again the lust of the forbidden (at least for me), mixed with the copulation of hatred (for him).

He was fucking me only to fuck me up as revenge against my Mom. My damnable Dad managed to do it all: He fucked me so well I totally loved it, and he blew my mind. He did not blow my mind in a good way, but rather with the commission of forbidden incestuous love.

We both knew this was to screw with my Mom's sense of well-being. I felt filthy; I felt complicit in this sabotage of my Mom's fragile mental state. I felt so small and pathetic just then. Most of all I felt guilty. I felt guilty on so many levels. Maybe the ancient Greeks have a play about what I was doing, and why? I'll have to ask my professor at my college. Right.

Later on, when I was more calm, I realized I had played a big role in causing the incest. What was I thinking, hanging out in the back yard, stark naked, trying to sun dry my body? I knew my father had arranged for there to be no towels. I knew he was up to some tricks, and yet I flaunted my naked twenty year old luscious body. I was simply daring him to try something. I was taunting him: my own father.

And then I was outraged when he took the bait? I did not even do much to stop him. I was as much to blame as him. Of course, I'm his little girl, and he should know better. But on the other hand, I am twenty years old and no innocent by a long shot. I knew better, too.

Get over myself, I thought. You had incest. Enjoy the erotic memory and don't do it again. Grow up, Celeste, I told myself.

*************

This memory flitted through my brain, and I pushed it back down into the murky depths of my mind where I keep my ugly souvenirs. I looked at Franklin. I wished he were more different from our Dad. One man like our Dad is enough!

Changing the subject, I asked, "Why do you think it's true that Josh passed me around? He did not, you know."

"Oh Celeste, my innocent! Everyone knows. Josh took movies, remember? They're up on the Internet. Every boy you went to high school with has seen them, and most have probably beaten off while watching them," Franklin said.

"Oh shit," I said, rather inelegantly. Josh must have had secret cameras in my bedroom, since that's where I had cheated on him.

"Yeah. I've watched you get fucked at least a hundred times. So has Dad. Jeez, Sis, you are so sizzling hot. I can't believe I just had you, at long last."

I looked at him. He was hard again. I slipped a condom on his cock. Climbed up on top of him, and I did him cowgirl style. "Promise me you will always lust for me, Franklin?"

"I promise," he said, and as he said it, he thrust his cock up inside me as far as it would go. That's pretty far.

The next day, when we woke up, he did me twice, and then he surprised me. "Babe," he said. "Would you like me to pass you around like Josh did long ago? I have some friends who watch - on a regular basis -the videos of you that Josh made, and they would absolutely love to take a dip inside you for a good long while."

"And I remember how you enjoyed my college friends long ago. During your senior year. That was fun. You were doing them, I was doing Susan. Remember?" Franklin said.

"Don't remind me," I said.

Then I added, "About passing me around again: Thanks, Franklin, but no. Those days are long over. But anytime you yourself want a dip inside me, know that I'm here for you, wet and ready."

"So never again a sequence of lovers, or all at once in a gangbang?" Franklin asked. "I can respect that."

"Never is such a strong word, isn't it?" I said, and Franklin laughed. Smiling, he tackled me and took me rear entry, the only standard position we had not yet done. (I don't count rear entry anal; it's too redundant.)

I think Franklin was super aroused by the idea of me getting gang banged by his friends, because his cock seemed harder and bigger than ever. I smiled as it pumped in and out of me. My smile left me, however, as it degenerated into moans of pleasure. Franklin drove me to ecstasy, ruining me for other men. Except, of course, well, you never know, do you?