Fam and Futanari Ch. 01: Willow

"Oh my," Mum said. "Oh my." My view of her face was blocked by Jane, who was suckling on one sharp nipple and pinching the other. Still, there was no denying Mum's excitement. Her hips were increasingly restless, seeking to drive her prodigious member ever deeper into my mouth and throat.

Sensing an unexpected presence, I looked round to see Dad and Mary watching from the doorway. His expression was one of shock, but also something more, and the obvious tent in his pyjama bottoms confirmed my suspicion.

I shifted round on the bed, and with nudges and caresses encouraged Mum to spread her legs, offering up her very wet pussy to the view of the observers. I continued to suck and lick as if I couldn't get enough of her, but beckoned Dad to approach. He hesitated still, but Mary pushed him forward, towards the bed, and instinct took over. He pushed his pyjamas down and stepped out of them and climbed onto the bed.

I'd had a threesome once, but this was my first quartet. I hoped the bed would survive it. Dad shuffled into place between Mum's thighs, his rigid cock nearly as long as the one in my mouth but considerably thicker. I had often wondered how this mild mannered academic had tamed such a wild beauty, and maybe now I had my answer.

"Oh, yes!" Mum cried as the new arrival eased into her. "God yes!"

Positioned as I was, I had the perfect view of Mum's labia stretching about that huge cock as it inched into her, until the dark hair on Dad's belly brushed against my cheek. As he settled into a hard, steady thrusting, I could feel the impact of flesh on flesh. As Mum's hips thrust up to meet Dad's penetrating cock, so also her own penetrating cock demanded entry into my throat.

We moved like a machine, a long, rhythmic fucking, my mother's cries of pleasure filling the room, the volume gradually increasing until with a scream of, "Yes! Fucking yes!" she stiffened between my lips and cum exploded into my mouth.

Moaning in pure delight, I drank it down, swallowing what I could and chasing down every drop that escaped my lips.

Dad's cock continued to piston in and out, but with increasing vigour. By his breathing, I sensed he was close too, and suddenly he shuddered to halt, gasping for breath, and I could feel the buried member pulsing within Mum's vagina.

For a long minute, the four of us just rested, enjoying this aftermath of pleasure, and then Dad slowly withdrew, his still hard cock slick with their combined pleasure. I couldn't resist it. I wrapped my lips about this second, magnificent member and took great pleasure in cleaning it of cum. "Oh, Lizzie," Dad murmured, stroking my head affectionately.

Mum sat up, her tears quite forgotten now, her chest and cheeks flushed in a postorgasmic glow, her eyes sparkling. "I've no idea what's got into you, girls," she said, "but that's done me the world of good." Indeed, her cock was still hard, and by the look in her eyes she was far from finished with it. "Now leave your father and me alone. We have a lot to discuss."

"Yes, Mum," we chorused, kissing her cheeks and departing swiftly in a gale of laughter.

In the living room, uncaring of Mary being there watching us, I stripped Jane of her pyjamas and pushed her down onto the sofa. We were both undeniably aroused, Jane visibly so, and I straddled her where she sat, lowering myself onto her eager length. Kissing hungrily, we fucked with desperate need, our hands on each other's breasts. She had taken care not to finish inside me the day before, but I no longer cared. I rode her hard until she cried out in pleasure and unleashed inside me, her cum bursting out against the entrance to my womb.

It was wrong, it was stupid, it was wonderful. I cried out as I surrendered to my own climax, our bodies convulsing together in a grand orgasmic release that seemed to last forever.

"This really is the best Christmas ever," I said after a while, laughing at the thought of all that had happened.

"Maybe for you," Jane said quietly. "You didn't grow a cock and get dumped."

It's funny how much things can change in twenty-four hours.

*

Not two hours later, as the five of us enjoyed the tail end of a varied and filling breakfast, surprisingly relaxed despite the unspoken topic of incestuous relations, Jane's phone chimed in receipt of a text message.

"From Charlie," she said, intrigued. "'I'm sorry I reacted so badly. Would love to see you again.' Hmm." As easily as that, her anger at him was forgotten. "Okay," she replied.

"See, Mum?" I said. "Men love a woman with a cock."

"Oh hush, Lizzie," she said. "Charlie's a good boy. I knew he'd come round sooner or later."

Mary and I shared a look of exasperation, but said nothing.

Jane's phone chimed again. "He's inviting me to a party at Willow's."

"Can I come?" I said quickly. Willow was a part owner of Charlie's club, drove everywhere in a red Ferrari, and was hands down the sexiest lesbian this side of London. She was the archetypal bored rich kid, but her parties were famous.

One chime later: "Yes you can."

"Shit," I said. "I've got nothing to wear."

"I'll find a dress for you," Mum said, clearly too happy even to admonish me for swearing, something she normally never failed to do.

For once I was glad of her taste in clothes, and indeed for the fact we wore the same size. Glad too that the country was out of lockdown and parties were all the rage. I was desperate to get out and meet people in real life and just have some actual fun for once. We argued amicably between ostentatious and formal, and settled finally on a sequinned rainbow dress and white ankle boots. It had been months since I was last in a dress, and the heels were at least an inch higher than I was comfortable with, but even I had to admit I looked good in it.

Jane agonised about what to wear for hours before deciding on jeans and a deep V-neck vest that showed off her pink lace bra. The bulge at her crotch was visible only if you looked for it. We helped each other with make-up - or, rather, Jane helped me with mine - as we waited for Charlie to pick us up, but at the sudden, distinctive roar of an engine I leapt up and raced to the window.

There is no mistaking a Ferrari for any other car, and I only knew one person who drove a red Portofino. "No way," I said.

Even as Charlie climbed out and hurried towards our front door, Willow leaned across and yelled after, "I'm not waiting!" (Damn, I wondered, and not for the first time. Why did the hottest girl in England have to be a posh bitch?)

We didn't keep Willow waiting, but, to my horror, after Jane climbed into the back seat, Charlie climbed in after, leaving me to take the front seat. "Strap in, everyone," she called, and punched the accelerator. She chose a route that was mostly country roads, and kept to the speed limit for the most part, but the car could do 0-60 in under four seconds and Willow proved it often.

Everything about her screamed breeding and sophistication, from the designer navy suit she wore that matched her deep blue eyes, to the bold colours of her eye shadow and lipstick that would have looked trashy if I'd attempted it but somehow just added to her glossy perfection. Her long, raven-dark hair was pinned back in a ponytail, and her only jewellery was a gold chain about her wrist. And she was tall. I'd forgotten how tall she was.

"We've met before," she said, catching me studying her.

"Your birthday bash," I explained, startled that she'd even noticed me then. "At the Club last year? Before the lockdown?" I glanced behind me where Jane and Charlie were making out like teenagers. "Where the lovebirds met," I added.

Willow grinned. "It's amazing the knots a guy will tie himself into over a dick. I said to him, 'Who gives a fuck what she's got down there. It's what's up here that counts.'" She tapped her temple. "Though I have to say, that's a hell of a package."

I had to laugh. She wasn't wrong.

Willow's house was more of a mansion, of modern design but secluded deep in the woods and at the end of a narrow private road. A dozen cars or more were parked haphazardly outside and lights and music filled the air. She let us out by the front door then shot away in a hail of gravel.

Between the professional caterers and the guests, there must have been a hundred people milling about. After months of social distancing, it felt profoundly unnatural to me - but exciting also. The wholesale vaccinations were bringing the country back to life, at last. Everyone seemed to know Charlie and Jane, but the only other person I knew was nowhere to be seen. At her own party, even.

I wasn't even sure I wanted to see her. I could watch her happily from a distance for hours but close up I felt literally outclassed. By the look of them, her guests were all footballers and models and I wondered at the impulse that had led me here. Hugging the edges of the room, I helped myself to snacks and a glass or two of wine, and watched with fascination at so many people writhing in close proximity on the dance floor to a pounding baseline that denied conversation and sought to obliterate all rational thought.

Nightclubs had never been my thing.

I retreated into the house, away from the thronging people and deafening music, away from the party until I was sure I was intruding where I should not - I could always, I supposed, like in so many movies, pretend to be looking for the bathroom.

I studied the pictures and newspaper clippings on the walls of Willow and her family. Her parents had died in a plane crash three years earlier, her mother an American heiress, her father the brother of a duke. When younger, Willow had clearly loved riding horses, and there were competition trophies bearing her name. Some pictures showed her with a girlfriend, but always a different one.

"I wondered who was tripping the alarms," she said, making me jump. I hadn't heard her approach.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I was just -"

"You were just escaping the party you invited yourself to?" She crossed the room to where I stood. Even with the extra height from my heels, I had to look up to meet her eyes that glistened with amusement as they regarded me. "Just why did you want to come tonight?" Her confidence in herself was powerfully seductive, but there was a touch of arrogance too. I reminded myself that she wasn't just a stunningly hot lesbian, she was also a member of the establishment that I despised. Inherited, excessive, irresponsible wealth.

I don't know what perfume she wore but she smelled amazing. Despite my determination not to fall for her, I was lost already. She leaned in to kiss me and I surrendered on the spot, returning the kiss with passion.

This was nothing like kissing my sister or my mother. This was raging endorphins blowing my mind, making my heart hammer within my chest. This was me, a poor PhD student, falling in love with a gorgeous, wealthy aristocrat. Like the plot of some cheap romance. "Wait," I said. "If you're just trying to get me in bed," I started.

"Mmm, there's a lovely thought," she murmured, her hands gliding up my bare thighs and lifting my dress. "But there's no 'just' about it."

I forced her hands to a halt. "This is too fast for me."

"I like fast."

"I like tea."

She blinked in confusion, then laughed. "Okay, you win. Tea it is. But if we're not going to fuck, let's dance. It's my party, after all."

It was a fair point. I let her lead me back through the house to the deafening dance floor, and as we swayed to the beat with our hands on each other's hips, we kissed the night away.

*

I awoke with a splitting headache and a peculiar and inexplicable pain in my crotch. Tugging my sheets aside, I stared blearily at the erect penis looking back at me with its cyclopean eye. I vaguely recalled Willow offering to let me stay the night, and when I had insisted on getting a taxi home - alone; there was no sign of Jane and Charles, only a brief text message wishing me luck - she had arranged it all for me. It was late, I'd had too much wine, my head was dulled from hours of insanely loud dance music, and I'd just just stripped out of my clothes and climbed naked into bed.

I most definitely hadn't had a cock. I did now, and it was huge. And the only reason I was awake at all was I was desperate for a pee. Muttering darkly about capricious gods, I wrapped myself in my bathrobe and stumbled across the hall to the bathroom I shared with Mary. For the first time in my life I urinated while standing, which proved to be unnecessarily difficult while fighting an erection.

Relieved at last, I stumbled back to my room, climbed back into bed, and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

*

When I awoke again, there was sunlight streaming almost vertically into my room, and the pain in my head had dulled to a persistent throb. Fearfully, praying that my nocturnal trip to the bathroom had been only a nightmare, I lifted the sheets and peered down.

No. It hadn't been a nightmare. "Fuck," I muttered quietly. Somehow, growing a cock of my own was less thrilling than seeing Jane and our mother similarly transformed. Trying not to think about what it all meant, and what my new maybe-girlfriend would make of it, I tucked my new addition out of sight as I squeezed into my jeans.

Fifteen minutes later, my hair brushed and the previous night's make-up cleaned off, I felt able to face the world, and made my way downstairs. Mary, Mum and Dad were having what looked like lunch. Ignoring the spread, I reached for the teapot and poured myself a cuppa.

"Someone killed some flowers for you," Mary said, pointing.

I glanced round to see a bouquet of a dozen red roses. I didn't need to read the card to know who they were from. I only knew one person who could spend that much on flowers and not even think about the price. A better question was when she had sent them. "Yeah, well," I said. "Support your local florist, and all that."

"Oh hush, the pair of you," Mum said. "They're beautiful. I'll put them in water after lunch."

The tea brought me back to life slowly. I wondered if I would soon be drinking tea with Willow, and if so whether it would be for the last time. The memory of her perfume, and of the soft, insistent press of her lips against mine, was still vivid. Maybe it had been a mistake to deny her. Maybe I should have let her take me to bed - or to her secret sex dungeon to be bound in rope and whipped.

The sudden swelling of my confined cock in response to this idle fantasy caught me quite by surprise. I squirmed awkwardly in my seat and tried not to think sexy thoughts.

"What's wrong with you?" Mary asked, frowning.

I nearly shrugged it off, but then I remembered her promise the day before. "I'm fine," I said with a smile, "but I need your help with something upstairs." Standing, I took the card from the bouquet and extracted a single rose - it smelled divine - and took both with me upstairs.

Mary followed after. "Come in," I said. "Close the door."

Our resemblance as sisters has often been remarked on, but in fact she is marginally taller and her breasts are a cup size bigger, amongst other minor details. Also, she cuts her hair short and has a tattoo of an arrow just below her left shoulder.

Mary looked at me suspiciously, but did as asked. With my back to her I stripped out of my top, and then my jeans, and finally my underwear. I wasn't trying to be sexy about it, but my new cock was hardening quickly in anticipation. "What do you think?" I asked nervously, turning round to face my sister.

She gaped at it, speechless for a good minute. "Holy fuck," she said at last. "That is seriously huge."

"You promised me something yesterday," I said.

Her eyes opened wide in sudden realisation of why I had asked her to come with me to my room. I fully expected her to deny it and flee, but instead she smiled with great amusement. "I guess I did, didn't I," she said. "But if I'm doing it, I'm doing it my way. Lie on the bed."

Unsure what she had in mind, but certainly intrigued, I did as instructed. Mary, meanwhile, stripped out of her clothes with casual unconcern, and climbed onto the bed, crawling round until she was straddling my head and facing my feet. It gave me a perfect view of her pussy. I hadn't done sixty-nine in ages, and certainly wasn't complaining.

I adore the smell of pussy. Much as I love to wrap my lips about a hard cock and bring it to a messy conclusion, nothing matches the intoxicating aroma of an aroused pussy. Mary's dark pubes were neatly trimmed, and I was astonished to see a clitoral piercing. I'd known she'd been in a poly relationship but not that she was this kinky.

A hand gripped my shaft and stroked it gently and a moan of unexpected pleasure escaped my lips, even as her pussy descended to muffle any further noises I might try to make. I was in heaven already - and then her mouth engulfed the head of my cock and I felt her sucking on it. She didn't try to take it deep, merely licked and sucked on the end while stroking gently with her hand, her fingertips teasing my inner labia, much as I might have fondled a man's balls in other circumstances. Likewise, my tongue played teasingly with her clit piercing and I delighted in how wet she was getting.

For a long time, neither of us seemed in a hurry to finish, preferring instead to revel in the hedonistic beauty of the act, but gradually the urgency built and I began thrusting up in a futile attempt to penetrate deeper, while Mary's pussy pressed down on my face until I struggled to breathe, her hips writhing restlessly in a quest for greater stimulation. We were both close, and both determined to make the other come first.

She won that contest easily, bringing me swiftly to a climax of painful intensity. I could feel my new cock bucking wildly within the firm grip of her mouth. I could feel the cum erupting in a seemingly endless flow. How many times I had been on the receiving end, swallowing what I could of that fertile essence, and now, amazingly, I was the one producing, delivering. I wished I could see it. I wished I could see Mary's face as I flooded her mouth with cum.

Trapped as I was between her thighs, I could only imagine the scene and focus on the sensations of this delightful and illicit orgasmic experience - and then, too soon, far too soon, I was done...

Mary sat up, then shuffled round until she straddled my head the other way. My mouth was again full of her pussy but I had a view of her looking down at me as she massaged her breasts and tugged at her nipples. Her lips and chin were coated with cum that she made no effort to clean away. I'd had no idea that she could be such a dirty, sexy lover.

She came quickly in this new position, juices flooding my mouth as she surrendered to a long and clearly satisfying climax -

- and then she too was done. "Not bad," she said, climbing off me at last. "We should do this every Christmas." Mary cleaned herself and dressed quickly, as I lay on the bed still catching my breath, still naked, still visibly aroused. As she slipped out of my room, she looked back briefly and winked at me.

Laughing quietly to myself, I picked up the card and opened it. "2 p.m.," it said. "Be ready."

I looked over at my clock, and cursed. I had exactly five minutes to get ready.

*

Five minutes later, the red Ferrari roared up the road outside and skidded masterfully to a halt. Wearing sunglasses, a black-and-white chequerboard dress and patchwork boots, Willow sauntered up to the house looking for all the world like Audrey Hepburn reincarnated. Three minutes later I raced down the stairs to find her cornered by my mother who seemed quite insistent that Willow should join us for dinner tonight.

"Mum!" I hissed, and guided Willow to safety outside the house. "Sorry about that."