tagIncest/TabooFamily Comes First

Family Comes First


Pure Fiction

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Gathered around my Thanksgiving table is a collection of multigenerational beauties, as exotic as the fabled black pearls found in the Red Sea. I'm at the head of my table, and you might think that I'm the grandfather of these women, but I'm not, I'm the husband of one, the lucky father of others and the respectful relative to the rest of these mysterious beauties.

Oh, and then there's my brother, sitting opposite me on the far end of the table.

I'm a sixty-five-year-old man who can pass for a forty-five-year-old man who looks like a fifty-five-year-old man. My energy level belongs to a man half my age. I lift weights, not heavy, but many reps, it keeps me straight up and down, with lingering traces of my military days. I have a regal, finely chiseled face that gives me a kingly sophistication when I grow my beard out, which is now a snow white color. My eyes are blue, piercing, James Bond-like, but my wife describes them as big and beautiful. Agree to disagree, I say.

My name is Christopher Nichols, but I answer to Nick most of the time.

To my right is my wife, she's twenty-three years my junior. Eve is a mixed beauty, her blood coming from all over Europe and Asia. Her smooth, olive skin shines from decades of daily lotion therapy, typically applied by my hands. The darkness of her short hair and soft skin causes her blue eyes to illuminate brightly within her delicately sculpted face.

"I love you," I mouthed to her as I stood with my glass of water raised for a toast.

"Hurry." That comes from Noelle, my eldest daughter. She's twenty, shares her mother's silky black hair, though Noelle's has frosted blonde tips. She's close in height with her mother, but leaner, with smaller breasts and a more athletically honed frame. Noelle has my light skin, tanned to a sun-gold. Her lips are pulled into a smile while her green eyes shine innocently, despite the rushed tone she used to urge me on. I think she wants a sip of the wine she's allowed at dinner.

To Noelle's left is Belle, my middle daughter of nineteen years, whose name reflects the beauty that she is. Her hair is long and lustrous as if spun from some mystical midnight silk. I don't think a comb has ever caught in her hair. Everything about Belle is perfect, from her creamy white skin that has never had a blemish, to her big, doe-like green eyes that compliment her warm smile and musical way of speaking.

Across from Belle sits Faith, my moody, dark and mysterious eighteen-year-old. Her skin is dark, bordering on caramel and she has a South Asian appearance reminiscent of Eve's mother. Her hair is long and black as well, streaked with crimson and swept to the right with the left side shaved. She has a nose ring that sparkles because it's a diamond and two dermal piercing on her lower back as well. If I overheard correctly, she has a pair of barbells through her nipples. I hope I didn't hear that correctly.

They are my wife and daughters, but joining us for this holiday is my brother Eddie and his family. His wife Sasha sits to his right, she has kind eyes and a lovely smile, as does their daughter, Kyla, who lost her husband many years ago. Unlike me, Eddie is a grandfather, but unfortunately, Eddie and Sasha moved out of state years ago, while their daughter lives close to me, leaving me as the father-figure in my grandniece's life.

Anya is my grandniece, but more like a daughter to me. She is eighteen, a week younger than Faith and her father's people are from Kazakhstan, which gives her a Far East appearance. She's like a jewel plucked from Astana's rarest collection. Her hazel eyes are penetrating, but her sparkling smile offsets that intimidating feature.

That's my family, who watches me and listens as I end my toast with, "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. As always, I'm thankful you're here because family comes first."

The younger girls decided to go out after dinner, dressing in clothing I find too revealing for them, but it's the kind of clothing Eve wears when we go out. I don't mind that one bit. At my age, having a woman twenty-three years younger on my arm that can still make men's eyes wander is a boost to my ego.

The rest of us are in the backyard that sits right on the edge of a hilltop with a great view of the city lights. Everyone is drinking wine but for me. I enjoy a dram of blended Irish whiskey now and then, typically Jameson, but I'm not picky.

We're sitting in oversized cuddle chairs with fanned backs and comfy cushions. Eve is against my side, while Eddie and Sasha lay within each other's arms and Kyla is by herself. She looks lonely huddled beneath her blanket with a glass of wine as her only company. The chairs circle a white stone fire pit, and its hypnotic flames remind me of colorfully dressed, Bollywood dancers.

"We have a favor to ask you," Eddie said after the girls had gone and our conversation had died down.

"Ask away," I said.

"Anya still doesn't want to go with us to London."

"What kind of girl doesn't want to go to London?" I asked.

"The kind that's been there before and doesn't want to party with her mother and grandparents," Eve said.

Everyone laughed.

"We're hoping she can stay with you," Eddie said.

Kyla coughed. "She's eighteen, I know, and I love her, but I don't trust her alone in my house."

"I could check on her," I offered. "The girls could stay with her."

Everyone laughed.

"What?" I asked.

"They aren't kids anymore." Eve patted my arm as she said this. "It's not going to be makeup, pizza, and dolls. It's going to be parties and alcohol with grown men."

"Maybe that's a good idea," I said. "They could use a boyfriend or two. Maybe we shouldn't have sent them to Embry Academy."

More laughter followed my words. The academy was an all girls' private boarding school; though we were close enough to get our daughter's back on the weekends when they attended.

"So she can stay with you?" Eddie asked.

"Of course," Even said. "Nick would be thrilled to have her."

"You don't need to ask," I said. "Anya her own room in our house."

"It's settled then," Eve mumbled. I looked down at her, recognizing the tone of her voice. It was something I had been waiting for since after dinner: sadness. It always came right after our Thanksgiving feast.

A few hours later we said goodbye to my brother, sister-in-law, and niece at the door. The girls were still out, but since Belle was driving and they were not of legal drinking age, our concern was minimal. Besides, a quick text let us know they would be on their way home within the hour.

"Give me a few minutes before you come to bed," Eve said when the door closed. She was more than tipsy. I watched her walk upstairs with slow, methodical strides like someone marching toward some daunting task.

Comforting Eve

I waited for Eve to reach the second-floor landing before I went to the kitchen and poured myself a shot of Jameson's whiskey. I sipped it for ten minutes while I gave Eve time to settle into the memories that haunted her every December since she had turned nineteen.

When I entered my room, I found Eve had changed into a short, black, transparent nighty with silk trim and nothing else. No panties, no bra, sitting on her side of the bed with her legs crossed, the lamp on her nightstand bathing her in a honey-gold nimbus that struggled to keep the shadows at bay. In her folded legs sat an old photo album filled with ghosts. She smiled at me when I entered the room.

"Are you going to get naked for me?" Eve asked, her tone soft while her liquor-filmed eyes matched the subtle smile on her lips.

"It's my favorite thing to do," I said.

I took my clothes off slowly; unbuttoning my shirt to reveal my salt and pepper chest hairs and the treasure trail that ran down my flat stomach and into my pants. My shoes and socks were next, followed by my slacks and gray boxer briefs, leaving me naked for my wife's eyes.

"I like that," Eve said. Her tongue slid between her full lips and then her eyes fell back to her photo album.

I joined my wife on the bed, my cock swelling to semi-hardness as slid next to her. I have a steady prescription for Viagra, but the truth is I don't need them as often as my wife and I led our doctor to believe. We wanted them, but Eve is more than enough woman to keep my cock thinking it's still in its twenties.

"I miss him," Eve said. She uncrossed her legs and stretched them outward as I put my right arm around her waist and my left hand on her right knee.

"I miss him too," I said, looking down at the man who had been my best friend and Eve's father.

I rubbed the top of her right thigh as Eve touched the picture of her father. I know my wife has daddy issues—I'm old enough to be her father—but there is something wrong with everyone nowadays. Most people take pills for their pain, but when Eve's grief threatens to overcome her as it does every year before December, she turns to sex, and I'm there for her as a loving, understanding husband.

"You know, but you don't understand," Eve said. The scent of wine lingered beneath the mintiness of her breath.

I moved my hand to her left leg, pulling the limb toward me. Eve let me spread her thighs while she stared at her father's pictures. I knew she's drifting between two words as I did this: the one that hurts and the one that wants me to push away her pain with sex.

"I was just discovering the real him when he died," Eve whispered.

I rubbed the inside of her left thigh, drawing the infinity symbol across her smoothness in ever-rising loops as I crawled closer to her warm center. Goosebumps rose across her flesh, and she opened her right leg wider, giving me access to the deeper treasures between her legs.

"Mm," Eve hummed as I touched her.

I could feel the heat drifting from her pussy, washing the tips of my fingers in warmth the further upward they traveled. My cock is waking up, stretching, swelling with blood and anticipation of being inside of her.

Eve lowered her left hand to my prick, circling her fingers around my shaft, her grip pulsating over my thickening member. I released a deep moan as my cock came to full life, surging forward with blood as she stroked me while staring at her father's pictures.

My hands flowed from her inner thigh to her outer labia, the soft, bare pussy lips yielding to the pressure of my fingers. I love how her darker skin contrasts with the pink between her parted lips. She's wet, glistening and ready for my touch.

"Ah," Eve moaned as my middle finger slid between her silky curtains.

"Put the album down," I said while I pushed her delicate folds open. "Let me help you forget."

"Please," Eve whispered. "Uncle Nick." A tear fell from her cheek, shattering against my forearm into several beads of sadness. Eve put her album on the nightstand and stretched her body down our bed, causing the hem of her nighty to rise, leaving her body naked from the middle of her stomach on down.

I've known my wife for a very long time, but I'm not her uncle. Uncle Nick was her affectionate nickname for me when her father and I were friends. It wasn't until after we became close she dropped the "Uncle" form my name, but even that took time. Now she only calls me that when I'm bossy or it may roll off her tongue when she needs to feel the familiar comfort of her past that is no longer there.

I looked upon her mound, covered by a dense, inverted triangle of black hair, manicured with precision. In her twenties she was bare, in her thirties, she grew a landing strip that thickened as the years went by to her present state, but everything below her mound was naked for my admiring eyes. I found her change in styles over the years sexy, a sensual ripening that caused my mind to feel more comfortable with my own aging body as time altered parts of me beyond my ability to control.

I moved between Eve's legs, sliding my body overs, dragging my cock against her thigh until my mouth hovered above her pubis. I kissed her mound, the short hairs prickling my tongue and causing my saliva to flow. I brushed my hand along her inner thigh, forcing her legs further apart for my shoulders.

"Ooh," Eve moaned when I ran my hand over her pussy, petting her softness with a gentle caress.

I took a deep breath of her scent, letting her thick, aroused aroma fill my lungs and drive my hunger forward. My tongue flicked out, whipping across her clit with the precision of a viper-strike. Eve's knees came up, her hips twisting in a circle from the bed, rolling her pussy against my mouth. I sunk my tongue into her shallow divide, parting her walls with up and down licks that pulled her cream into my mouth.

I pushed on the bottom of Eve's thighs, and she grabbed the backs of her knees, holding herself open for me, lewdly spreading her cunny for my tongue. I ran my right middle finger along the seam of her lips, delving just within as I placed my left fingers on her mound, thumb on her clit and circled the swollen nub with varying degrees of pressure.

"Oh, Nick, baby," Eve moaned, rolling her pelvis up and down, causing my finger to slide through her wet slot. "Give me your tongue. I want you—ooh," she gasped as I thrust my middle finger deeply into her hole with one, long push.

"So tight for me," I moaned into her pussy, her rich, thick scent flowing into my body as her cream dripped from her small opening. I licked her inner lips while I stroked my finger into her, touching all the soft nooks and crannies hidden within her pink depths.

"Yeah, oh yeah," Eve whimpered. My finger was thrusting faster into her now, and I stacked my forefinger above my middle, giving her pussy two digits to worry about. I turned them from stacked to side-by-side, pushing in and pulling out with fast, jabbing finger-strokes.

"Mm," I said as I slurped her honey from her hole. I licked a few more times before joining my tongue to my clit-pressing thumb.

"God, oh fucking god," Eve sang, trying to feed me as much of her pussy as she could by rocking her body over of the bed.

My aching cock was rubbing against the bed's comforter. I needed a warm, wet hole to soothe the pressure building in my balls and along my shaft. "I need you," I said, crawling quickly up my wife's body.

Eve groaned when I took away my fingers and tongue, but that was followed by a loud, "Oomph," as the head of my prick spread the juicy lips of her pussy and my thick shaft filled her slippery tunnel.

"Fuck me," Eve grunted, hooking her legs behind my thighs and wrapping her arms around my neck.

I held myself by my arms, planting my palms on the bed, feeling pride as my muscles bulged despite my age. I humped my ass up and down, poking my cock into her little cum-slot with long strokes, attacking her from different angles so I could rub every inch of her inner wetness.

Our headboard started rocking against the wall as I pumped my wife's little pussy faster, showing her what this old man could do. Her grunting came in quick, short bursts every time I hit bottom, while her eyes locked with mine, desperation lighting them as I brought her closer to coming.

"Give it to me," Eve begged. "Please, give it to me."

"There you go," I grunted as my balls slapped against her ass. "Take Evie, take it."

"Yeah, of fuck yeah." Eve's lower lip started to tremble, her face scrunching up as she glared at me. Her nipples poked hard against her rumpled nighty. "Nick, Nick, I'm going to come, going to—fuck!"

Eve came, coming on my cock as her pussy walls clutched my shaft, sucking and slurping at my throbbing meat. I lost control as she drenched me in her nectar and I came, dropping down on her, hugging her tight as my feet clawed at the bed, trying to force my cock deeper into her. We strained together, gasping and moaning, our voices mixing and I never wanted it to end.

It had to though, and I slid to the side, sighing loudly. I closed my eyes as I lay next to her, reaching over to cup her pussy and slip my middle and ring fingers into her slimy, wet slit. She spread herself for me as I started finger-fucking her twat. Wet slapping sounds filled the room, sounding obscene. My palm spanked her clit with each inward thrust and Eve cried out, "Finger me, finger-fuck your cum into my pussy."

Eve came again, clamping her legs together and trapping my hand. She held onto my wrist as she turned her hips and ground her pussy against my fingers, sobbing, "Uncle Nick." She let go as she regained control, turning to me while still breathing hard and said, "My turn to make you come, with my mouth."

Oh boy. I lay back, closed my eyes and let my wife lick her tongue up and down my shaft, cleaning our blended cum from my member. She bobbed her head, getting loud and messy as spit dripped from the corners of her lips down to my balls. When I came, she swallowed all of me.

When I rose sometime later, I don't know how long; I was surprised to find the bedroom door open. Did I leave it open? I didn't remember. Eve had been sitting up, looking at her album again, but no longer crying.

"Everything okay?" I asked as I closed the door. "At least the girls aren't home yet." I listened, but our walls are thick for a reason.

Eve looked at me. She smiled, shook her head and went back to her pictures.

"I want you to grow your beard," Eve said after a bit. "A regal-looking Santa beard."

"What for?" I asked as I got back into bed, still naked.

"You're going to play Santa this year." Eve turned to a new page. "Dad's final heart attack hit while he was playing Santa, remember?"

I put my hand on her thigh, near her knee, and squeezed.

Okay," I told her. "I'll play Santa for you."

"For the girls," Eve said.

"For the girls?" I asked. "They're too old for Santa's lap."

Eve smiled. "No girl is too old for their father's lap."

I frowned at her strange wording but managed a laughed.

"I'm serious," Eve said. "You can at least give out presents as St. Nick. It might be silly now, but when you're gone, it will be a fond memory for our daughters and Anya."

"Dressing up as Santa is my favorite thing to do."

"Is it?" Eve asked.

"No," I said. "Making you happy is."

Driving Distractions

"I get the front. Dad!"

I listened to Faith call my name as she glared evilly at Noelle. I was halfway down the walkway, ready to deal with this nonsense when Eve called my name. I turned. She walked to me, handing me a smart coffee mug. I kissed her on the lips, thankful she hadn't forgotten.

"Give Faith the seat," I told Noelle after getting into my car.

"Why?" Noelle asked.

I looked at her. Noelle rolled her eyes as she exited the car.

"Bitch," I heard Faith mumble.

"Ho," Noelle answered.

"My ears work," I said to them.

"That's good, Dad," Belle said. She was sitting behind me, buckled in and waiting for everyone to get settled. "So do ours."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"Nothing," Belle said. I couldn't see her face, but I could hear the smile in her words.

"I want to drive," Noelle said as she sat in the back.

"No," I said. "You can drive on the way home when I'm tired enough to sleep through your craziness."

"Boring," Noelle said.

I waited for my daughters to buckle up, not bothering to ask why my two eldest wanted to make the two-hour drive to Embry Academy, their once private high school. It was worth the price, if not the distance.

We stopped by Anya's house ten minutes later, saying hello to Kyla and making small talk, before Anya was forced to squeeze in between my Noelle and Belle. I would have given Anya a window seat had she asked, but she settled between her cousins without a word.

"You should let Anya and me drive up there," Faith said, something she said every time we picked up Anya. "You wouldn't have to make the trip, and you could rest your weary muscles on the weekends."

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