Crossing a Line

Everyone is 18+ A young man falls in love with both his sister and mother crossing a line.

Crossing a Line.

It was the last week of May 2015; we had our nineteenth birthday party lined up like we do every year for June seventh, just after the school year; our birthdays are four days apart. However, I am a year older on June ninth, and Bobbie, my Sister, is on June fifth. So we get to have one party with hot dogs, burgers, and ice cream with cupcakes. We have not had a cake that's for kids in eight years, or at least that was what our Dad told us. We also had BBQ chicken with salads for the grown-ups.

My mom and sister's favorite was the chocolate fountain; last year's party became a dance party. But our Dad stopped that when he found out we were dancing to that devil's music, our Dad was a deacon in a local church. So he called the police and had them break the party up. So we have a pool party two days early for me and two days late for my Sister, depending on the weather. Our Mom, Billy Jo Bogart, says. "It was the only fair thing to do to keep peace with your dad."

What our Dad, Bob Allen, said was another story. "It was cheaper, he was the Man of the house, and It was his way or the fucking highway. So what he said goes his wife, his house, his rules, and his damn kids like we were always an afterthought."

Our Mom never treated us this way. It was as if our Mom's life was more prosperous because of her love for us. I know for a fact because of our mother's love, our lives were better because of our Mom. Just one example proves it I was twelve at the time, my Dad was drunk, and I was stupid and talked back. Dad started hitting me. I was not doing well. His open hand slaps tossed me around the room like a rag doll. My Mom stood over me as Dad hit her till my Sister and Mom could pull him off me. He passed out, stayed at his mother's for a few months, and had to take court-appointed anger management for a few weeks.

He was to clean his mothers house out and to put it up for sale, we were to have helped him do it, but Mom put her foot down, not letting us go. I missed a few days of school to hurt even to get out of bed. I'm positive it's why I close my eyes when someone swings at me.

My Dad was fifty-two; his ego was nine feet tall but stood six foot in two-inch tall heels in all his shoes, he weighed in at three hundred and forty pounds, half bald, all gray his hair turned gray four years ago, and with brown eyes that were red when he drank, and that was way too often. Our Dad was the Human Resources Director at a large Cancer Hospital for twenty years. His way or the highway was his way of handling things at work or home. As rude as he was, the bottom line was always under-budget. State hospital budgets made heroes of villains. At least it did where my Dad worked.

My Mom, Billy Jo Bogart, is forty-nine, standing six foot one in flats, never allowed to wear heels of any kind, and Mom tipped the scales at a sexy one hundred and thirty-five pounds of blue-eyed, blond soccer mom complete with 38 DD's and a min-van a true MILF if there ever was.

Yes, it might even lead to the abuse of her panties some late night striking out on another date, coming home horny and clueless. Our Mom drove us to every sport we played and cheered us on. However, our Dad has never seen us play any sport or school recital. Instead, he stays at work or home watching TV in the Air Conditioner on full blast, drinking beer, and watching real sports like real men.

Bobbie, my Sister, and I talked one night after dinner a week before the party. Mom and Dad went to bed after a few odd words and strange cold looks from Dad all night.

I say to Bobbie. "Man of the house, It was our dad's go-to saying, but it made us sound like we were just nice cars to own and do with as he pleased."

My hot Sister Bobbie is on the Lacrosse team, plays Volleyball, and ran track. My Sister stood six foot one an inch shorter than I, and her weight was a light one hundred and twenty pounds. Her body was almost a perfect hourglass figure at 38-30-36 with a B cup. Her blue eyes and mine matched. We told secrets under the covers of our blankets with flashlights for years; it was just kids' stuff.

I played soccer, baseball, football, shot-put and discus, and rugby, but not at school. It was at a college football pitch, an intramural sport anyone could play. I was good but unlikely to get any kind of scholarship to a college with my grades can't stay on the team with D's and C's. I studied martial arts just for fun; that's not true. I fought because an older boy at school was not listening to my Sister saying no.

I went to him at the end of gym class, planning on me kicking his ass even though he had two inches on me and forty pounds. He was the school hero and the football captain. Unfortunately, it ended with me getting my ass beat by two of his best friends holding me down, and they stuffed me into a trashcan in front of the whole gym class.

It took me almost sixty days of four hours in the gym, running two miles to school and back till I felt fit enough to find a gym to learn to fight. I worked part-time in a martial arts gym just to pay for classes. I used my pay to hire two tough-looking instructors to beat the crap out of me every day for two weeks, teaching me how to fight. I had my friends at school watch out for my Sister. They recorded and reported his every move to the teachers.

With everyone watching him, he finally got caught and thrown out of school for taking kids' lunch money, and he received a two-month suspension. He was noticed by everyone now when he returned to school. I insisted Bobbie always had to be with three friends, which kept her safe.

My two guys who beat me for cash at the gym was a smart move on my part. They thought I was a debutante till they beat the crap out of me. So I got up and wiped the blood off my nose. Asking them to show me how to move, how to flow.

I was more scared of getting hurt the time I ended up in the trash can. I was learning how to fight back through pain. I had just been knocked down with a roundhouse kick, and blood was coming out of my nose not the first time either, but I stood and fought two grown men to a standstill. I stopped and bowed, and my bow was returned, and we went into dirty fighting from then on. What I learned over the next few days was worth the bruises on my face and body. I took it every day for three weeks and then learned fast. My skills improved; I became good at blocking and was not hit too often again.

During this time, Bobbie heard from friends at school about me eating a trash can trying to save you. My Sister iced my bruises and bandaged my cuts from that day on. I know it made us closer. My Dad slapped me awake the day before our birthday party at four am. He handed me coffee. Dad ordered me to drive him to the airport, giving me enough time to pee, wash my face, and get dressed because he wanted to save parking fees. It was an hour's drive to the airport. My Dad talked about what my summer would be like basic boot camp, and he said he signed me up for the Army. I needed more coffee to know what Dad was talking about.

I do know enough to not talk back to Dad before finding out what my Mom and Sister thought about this idea or any idea my Dad tossed at me. I have not lived to the ripe old age of nineteen without this. I am sure it keeps me safe and not in a military academy. It did get close once, but my Sister talked me out of doing anything stupid. Dad went to China at the request of the government to lend his hand in setting up their hospitals. Dad's way of running a hospital is based on the bottom line over people.

I skipped school and went to a friend's Dad's place, who was a lawyer, and asked him. "If my dad could sign me up to join the Army without me signing."

Thankfully, my Dad can't send me off, but he can and will toss me out of the house. So I spent the morning moving my money out of the bank. Unfortunately, my Dad was a cosigner on my account when it was opened.

I was nineteen, held back a year by being sick, but now I had to use my lawyer for two days. I changed my accounts, invested some, added the bulk to a 401k, and ordered a credit card in my name. I had more than enough college money from my grandfather's estate on my Mom's side. This was two years ago. Dad served me an invoice for nineteen+ years of room and board. Dad turned the damn thing to a collection agency. I had the lawyer get a court order for Dad to stop this money-grab bullshit.

The bank informed me that Dad tried to cash out my inheritance, but I had to sign to get the money out. My lawyer set it that way when it was opened years ago. I had to; it was enough that Dad got his Dad's money almost twice what I had in the bank, but my Dad always had to have all the toys or go home rather than share. My Dad had a full-size refrigerator in his master closet with ice cream and cold beers, but we never had ice cream but once in a while. Dad often spent the weekend in bed, drunk and mad at something or someone.

I come home to Mom working out to some exercise video cast to the TV. Your tight hot pink yoga tights showed your lady parts from behind excellently; I stopped and watched you.

I say. "Hello, Mom; damn, it's weird. Dad told me I joined the Army today or get out of the house, no talk of college, but he said I will be gone the last week in June. What the hell, Mom. If I'm getting tossed out, I should do something worth getting tossed out for."

Mom says. "Dad said he wanted you to attend the service, but we discussed it after college. So what the heck are you talking about?"

Hell, here it goes, I say. "Mom, no kidding; what you are wearing is not son-proof. You only have to say maybe, and I will be all over you in two seconds. I can see how you shave Mom down there. I got to talk to a cold shower; Mom, you're making walking too hard. Is that enough to get me tossed out of my home, Mom?"

My Mom, Billy Jo, followed me as I stepped into my bedroom to give me words about talking that way to my Mother.

Then, kicking my shoes off, Mom asked me. "Why was I getting TLC from Bobbie ice packs, back rubs, and dressing my cuts. Then, Mom asked me if we were a thing? Did we cross a line? Are we going to cross a line, had we?"

How do you answer your Mom to this? I was honest and told my Mom. "I was trying to protect my Sister from her bully telling her about my trash can fight, and Bobbie was in danger. I was learning to fight, as I could not fight back before. I was too scared to fight back for fear of getting hurt. That was Dad's fault. I learned how to take a hit to move and flow with punches. Our next fight was going to have a much different ending."

Mom says. "You said he got kicked out; they let him back in school?"

I nodded my head yes. "Two months, his dad, the lawyer, got him back in school in five weeks."

I then answered my Mom with the rest of my truth. "I would indeed cross any line for my Mom or my Sister. How could I not? You two are my whole fucking world. I feel your love, not our dads; he never even remembered our birthdays."

Mom says. "Watch your mouth, son. You're not too big to pull your pants down and give you a whipping."

I got rock hard, my sweatpants tented out, and Mom just looked down at it, and her smile grew.

I stood and took my shirt off to a moan from my Mom, and she says. "Damn, son, your all bruises. You're doing this for her?" My Mom asked me.

I say. "Mom, I can take a hit and hurt back now that first week, not too much. I kept seeing Bobbies face when she told me about being cornered by Johnny. He wants her like Dad wants fried food. I held her Mom as she cried. I won't kiss first, but I can't say no to you or her Mom. I won't turn down love, Mom. I love you two too much. Sick, huh, I guess?"

I say softly as if I burst into flames having said it.

My Mom wrapped me in her arms. Your breath on my neck made every hair on my body stood on end as goosebumps spread over my arms. The smell of your hot sweat was making me dizzy.

As Mom moaned into my neck as I turned red, Mom says. "You did this for her, and you're telling me you would do this for me too?

I felt Mom moan in my hardening cock like it was connected to your voice. It grew harder against moms leg. I know you feel it.

I hear from Mom. "You did not get that from your Dad, you lucky boy. Have you used it yet, Hon?"

I shook my head, no, it's not like any words would come out of my mouth, but I managed to say. "Damn, Mom, you're killing me."

Mom pulled my face to her and says. "I can't do this to your dad, baby, but damn, you're sexy."

As she trembled against me, your nipples popped into my naked chest. I felt them through Mom's top and sports bra. God, they were so hot. I felt a hand on my cock as you squeezed me through my sweats. You pull them down, exposing my hard cock, and you drop to your knees.

Mom says groaning. "We're burning in hell, baby. I can't do this, but I have to have your cock. I can't stop is it a sickness? Is this what Bobbie feels, baby?"

I did not answer because I thought I knew my Sister's mind, but I never thought I would be here now or what my Sister felt about our love.

My hot Mom has me half down her throat as Mom gags with drool coming out of her mouth. I am almost there, so close to coming. It was so hot, and I was so close. We heard a car door close in the driveway. It's Bobbie coming home from school practice. Damn, what timing. We broke apart; my hand reached out and held your hand for another second.

Bobbie yelled out. "She's home."

As the door slammed downstairs as we did when Dad was not here to hear, it was an act of rebellion. Even our Mom does it if Dad's car is not in the driveway. Any act of rebellion makes us closer.

I kissed your hand and say. "Thanks, Mom, you always make me feel loved. I hope I do the same for you?"

As you kiss me, I taste myself in your hot mouth. It's a first for me, kink on kink, sin for sin. Hell will freeze before I stop. Your kiss was not so much as a mom would have given, but as you left the room, it was more like lovers do, getting close to breaking that damn line into shards. I pulled off my workout sweats walking into our bathroom.

I go to shower. I spent the day dirty, not showering, and walking into the Jack and Jill bathroom I share with my Sister. My cock was still hard as I went in naked I stepped into the shower turning the water on. I hear a grasp from behind me. My sexy Sister is half out of her top, her wet sports jersey stuck on your head. As she sees me naked, I reach out and unstuck your head from her wet top.

It's my turn to grasp your flat tummy. It made your blue-colored 38 C bra-covered breast look larger. It made drool come out of my throbbing cock head. Bobbie sees me and says. "You're bruised all over; why did you not tell me, brother?"

"Sis, I wanted to learn to fight. But I was too scared I get hurt; it made me incapable of fighting back. Thank you for caring for cuts and bruises on my hands and face. I have no fear and can hold my own now, Bobbie." I answered proudly.

My Sister asked with a naughty smile say. "Where's mom?"

I answered. "She left moaning after seeing me without my shirt on. She kissed me for my bruises and asked if I was doing this for you. I told her it was, and I do it for Mom too. She left here. I sure to go take care of things; you see how she left me?"

I say. "Pointing down to the purple elephant in the room, not sharing the start of Mom's blowjob by telling you.

Bobbie reached out and wrapped her hand around my hard cock. Her fingers just touched. I am almost the size of an 8.5-ounce red bull can or just a bit longer, about seven inches. My Sister kissed me, and not as a sister should, as she stroked my hot hard cock for the first time. I thought I had been hard before, but this would cut glass. Your lips were so hot as your lips pulled mine into your sexy mouth. I pushed your gym shorts off you and then your panties.

You trim your pussy hair as I find that spot with my wet fingers you see in all the porn films. Then, you moan against my lips as our tongues fight for who leads this dance.

You dropped to your knees; you were winning and groaned loudly when you say. "I've dreamed of this. I rubbed my pussy out to seeing you take your swimsuit off last month at the beach house."

You took me in your hot mouth as you moaned on my hot cock. Then, you pull my balls as you suck one in and stroke me slowly. I arch my feet as you speed up.

I scream at you. "I coming!"

I blow off my cum coming fast; my Mom put me on edge bad, and you're putting me in your mouth to drain me dry was brain-draining. I fall to my knees, and I push you against the wall as my lips suck your wet pussy lips into my cold mouth. Your taste has made me hard as a rock again. I find the pearl of your clit with my lips as I suck you inside my hot mouth to your moans.

I sucked my first pussy, but damn sure it's not going to be my last. As you arch your back, you hold on to me, and my two fingers slide inside you as I hit your hymen and backed off. I found your G-spot as your moans turned into screams, as you fell on me, as you too came shaking, telling me sweet things you want to do with us. I washed us off on the shower floor. I kissed you as a lover would it feels right; it felt perfect.

You started to put me inside you as you climbed on top of me; I stopped you and say. "We have nothing keeping you from having our baby, babe; we can't risk it. We can't; we need birth control. I'll pick up some condoms. You need to get on the pill. No shame or guilt, Sis, that was hot as fuck. But Dad and the law would end us if you had my baby."

We went downstairs to our Mom drinking early, her neck and face flushed with what looked like a powerful orgasm. Bobbie and I did too, but we first did a half-hour workout in the home gym, so we had red faces. We ate dinner and watched net flicks till Mom passed out from drinking. I carried Mom to her bed; she kissed me again as I laid her down. I heard a moan from Bobbie in the hall. She saw Mom kiss me as I pulled the covers over our Mom.

I went to the hall to a second kiss from Bobbie, as you say, next to my ear. "Damn, that was a sexy kiss. So you make her scream too?"

You asked me as we walked to my bedroom.

I walked us into my room; I told you. "No, not yet, but I want to. We slipped over the line; we have not crossed it like we have."

I stroke your hair, keeping it untangled as I close and lock your bedroom door as I did my door. We kissed like new lovers, incest or not. It felt too real to be just lust. I wanted you as much as you wanted me. I got hard, and you ate me. You took your time as you turned around, and we consumed each other. We came and slept in each other's arms for a few hours before we heard Mom tossing her cookies in the master bathroom.

We got up, showered together, dressed, and made Mom the hair of the dog a double shot Bloody Mary. I took Mom a shot glass of vitamins B and others and a fizzy aspirin drink, and Bobbie brought the Bloody Mary. Tabasco kicked Mom up, sent her to the toilet, and tossed the rest of her cookies as Bobbie and I held your hair out of the stream. Mom was taking a shower as, like most Saturdays, we were drinking coffee out on the back porch catching the sun in our matching Tees and gym shorts.

I took my phone off the charger and turned my phone back on. Dad sent a dozen or more texts on my phone from Dad sent fourteen hours ago.

I tell Bobbie. "He has been texting since six am Beijing, China time."

I text back it reads. "Sorry, Sir, we just got up. Mom was tossing her cookies up; I'll give her the phone. What's up, Dad?"

I find Mom. "Dad's having some kind of a melt down he spent all night texting us; he does know about time zones? His texts started at two am our time."