tagIncest/TabooMy Two Wives

My Two Wives


My stories tend toward the nonconsent/taboo side, but I want to be clear that I'm in no way suggesting that the acts in my stories are okay. Forced sex is a fantasy I enjoy and I write for other similarly minded people. Real rape is ugly and sad, and if it's something you're considering acting out you should seek help.


This is part one of a two-part story. Second part will hopefully be posted sometime this century. As for the politics in this story, they're not intended to be taken seriously. I wouldn't try to change anyone's political persuasions through porn, so please just take the porn for what it is. Enjoy.


It was five years ago that I came out to my parents.

Oh, I'm not gay. It might actually have been easier if I was.

No, five years ago, I told my die-hard Democrat family that I was now a Republican. The expression on their faces will be perfectly preserved in my mind forever. They couldn't have looked more horrified if I'd announced that I was going to open a sweatshop and staff it with South East Asian orphans. In their minds, that's pretty much the equivalent of being Republican.

It doesn't matter to them that the Republican Party addresses real issues like the totally unsustainable size of government, one of the many liberal policies that's sent us spiralling down into deficit—but I digress.

The only one who didn't seem to view my announcement as catastrophic was my younger sister. She pretty much thought it was hilarious, and has treated it like a joke ever since. Like Christmas four years ago, when I opened my present from Naomi and discovered she'd very thoughtfully gotten me The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama. My wife, Becky, a staunch Republican and not my sister's biggest fan, was not amused.

Becky was even less amused by my offering Naomi a place to stay two years ago when she lost her job and couldn't pay rent on her dorm room. The fact that Naomi's still living with us? Let's just say it hasn't contributed to marital harmony. But beyond the fact that Naomi's my sister, she's the only one in my family who doesn't try to make me feel bad about my political beliefs. She jokes around, but she never truly tries to make me feel like shit on the bottom of a shoe, the way my parents and older brother do every time I talk to them. And for that, my sister would always have a place in my home.

The night I think of as the beginning of this story started like many, many others: with Becky bitching at me about Naomi as we got ready for bed.

"Noah, it's been two years. Two. Years!" Becky said, as if emphasizing the words in that don't-you-get-it-idiot tone was going to finally get through to me.

I strove for patience. "She's gonna be finished school in another year, and she chips in where she can, buying groceries and babysitting for us. You want me to throw her out on the street? It's only another year, Becky."

"Yes," she hissed, the s escaping like steam from between her clenched teeth. "Another year. I want my house back. And we need that room-"

"For what?" I interrupted. "We don't need her room for anything. And I'm not kicking her out just so we can have a room we don't need."

Becky was quiet for a moment. "Maybe we do need it."

"For what?" I repeated, exasperated.

She looked up at me, and I saw the hesitancy in her eyes.

"What is it?"I asked.

One of her hands caught a shirt tail and twisted it, a nervous habit I don't think she'd ever realized she had. "It's just...I know we said we were going to wait until Zach was a bit older, but..."

"You're not...a baby?" I could feel the dopey smile spreading across my face.

She smiled back unsurely. "You're really happy?" I grabbed her up in a hug and pressed kisses all over her face until she shrieked with laughter and pushed me away.

"Okay, okay! You're happy!"

I dropped onto the bed and tugged her into my lap. My hand found its way to her tummy and spread possessively over it.

"When did you find out?" I asked.

Her expression grew reticent again. "Three days ago," she replied, but rushed to add, "I just wanted to wait to tell you over a nice dinner, or at least on a night when we weren't fighting. But you've been working, and we've been arguing every night about your sister-"

I felt a prick of irritation at that 'we'; she was the one who brought it up all the damn time. I brushed it off though and focused on the good news. "All right, all right. It doesn't matter. What matters is we're gonna have another baby. I can't wait to see you all round again." My voice turned husky and Becky flushed a little.

I'm not some pervert who watches preggo porn, but there's just something about a woman, round and full with my child, and eventually milk for my child...well, it arouses something very primal in me, let's just say.

My hand had begun sensuously rubbing my wife's tummy at these thoughts. I nuzzled her neck.

"You really like it when I'm all swollen? I feel like a penguin...waddling around..." she gasped as I sucked her sensitive earlobe.

"A very sexy penguin," I murmured, nipping her ear. My hand moved down and found the hem of her nightgown. I tugged it up until her lean thighs were bared to me. My fingers settled between her legs, running over the lightly furred lips of her puss. I kissed and licked and nipped her neck; my wife has a very sensitive neck, and I didn't have to look down to know her nipples were pebbled into tight little buds.

"Are you going to...drink my...milk again?" she panted.

My cock twitched at her words. Her breasts, already full for her diminuitive stature, would swell like ripe melons when she was nursing. She'd nursed our son Zach for six months, and I had many fond memories of milk leaking from her engorged nipples, dribbling down her breasts, which were swollen and taut from the milk inside her.

"You like when I drink your milk?" I murmured against her neck. I could smell her scent, and knew she was already wet for me.

"Yesssssss..." she moaned as I sank two fingers inside her.

"Then I'll drink it every day," I promised. My fingers made wet squelching noises as I lazily thrust them into her weeping pussy. "I'll suck on your milky tits while I fuck you."

"Oh God!"

Her hips pumped against my hand, and my cock began to twitch insistently against her bottom. Tonight I couldn't wait. I picked her up and arranged her so she was straddling me, pulled down my boxers to free my cock, and positioned her over it. I hissed out a long breath as she sank down on me, enveloping me in the sweet, hot wetness of her cunt.

I yanked down the straps of her nightgown until her tits, jiggling with each bounce of her hips, were bared to my gaze. I didn't tease her with gentle kisses all over them; I no longer had the restraint. I latched onto a nipple and sucked rhythmically, imagining the milk that would come out in a few months time. As I sucked, her pussy began to clench in time to my pulls. I imagined that sweet liquid flowing over my tongue and her clenching me like this. My hands found her hips and began pulling her down in a more vigorous rythm.

Becky was keening. Her hands gripped my hair almost painfully as she rode me, and I knew she was close.

I reached between our bodies and found her little nub, which was peeking out from its hood in search of contact. I rubbed my thumb over her clit, pressing with just the right amount of pressure, and soon her head dropped back and she let out a wail. Her cunt began milking me, and my cock, already eager to give up its seed, erupted inside her. I jerked her down on me hard, and pushed as deep as I could go to give up the last stream of cum.

She collapsed against me and I held her, rubbing her back. She glanced over my shoulder, and apparently caught sight of the clock as she said, "Wow, that did not last long."

I grinned against her shoulder. "Hey, every day can't be a marathon. Both of us were sprinters today."

"I'm a girl. We're allowed to finish quickly," she pronounced.

"Oh, really?"

I flipped her onto her back and came down on top of her, and it was only a matter of seconds before her shrieks of laughter changed to husky moans.


The next morning, things were deceptively calm. Becky and I got ready for work, and every time I passed her, my hand found its way to her tummy. Or some other part of her body. It was really nice to wake up not immediately on guard from the fight of the night before.

Even arriving to the kitchen and finding Naomi sitting on a stool at the island eating Fruit Loops didn't break the mood.

"Morning," Naomi called cheerfully.

"Good morning," Becky replied, admittedly less enthusiastically than Naomi, but also in less of a why-are-you-still-in-my-house tone than she usually used with my sister.

Zach gurgled happily from his playpen in the corner of the room. I bent down and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. He responded by grabbing my hair and giving it a hard yank, which I'm sure in his mind translated into love.

Becky began fixing her usual breakfast: a large cup of coffee in a travel mug which she would drink on her way to the office.

"Uh uh," I said, slicing a bagel and dropping it into the toaster. "You're eating more than that." "Noah..." she didn't bother finishing what would have undoubtedly been a speech about how she doesn't eat breakfast. We'd had this discussion enough times when she was pregnant with Zach.

A slight smile tugged at her lips. "Fine, then. One bagel to go please."

"With cream cheese," I added. "LIGHT cream cheese," I amended, seeing her frown.

She kissed me lightly on the lips, and my hand found its way to her ass for a subtle squeeze. She pulled away, and I turned to find Naomi staring at us with her eyebrows arching toward her hairline.

Since Becky started work half an hour earlier than I did and had to drop Zach off at daycare, she headed out the door first after a lingering kiss goodbye. As soon as she was gone, Naomi couldn't seem to hold it in any longer.

"All right, what the hell is up with you two? Why does Nancy seem so happy?"

I rolled my eyes at the nickname my sister had bestowed on my wife long ago; Nancy, as in Nancy Reagan.

"We can't be in a good mood?"

"Of course you can, you guys just never are," she commented as she rinsed out her bowl.

We made it out to my car without further mention, and I -- silly me -- thought that we'd actually dropped the subject.

"Heard you guys going at it last night."

I'd long ago grown used to Naomi's totally inappropriate comments, so I just said, "So get some earplugs."

"But then I wouldn't be able to hear what a stallion my brother is. And who'd have thought Nancy was such a dirty girl? If you guys ever run into financial problems, you can always set up a website. Naughtyconservatives.com or something."

"You know, it would be a lot easier for me to convince Becky to let you stay for another year if you wouldn't be such a pain in the ass."

"Hey! I never say any of this stuff to her. Okay, not ANYMORE," she amended at my look. "After I discovered my sister-in-law hates jokes, laughter and all manner of frivolity, I stopped even trying. I guess it's a good thing she's a tiger in the sack, huh?" she said with a wink.

I turned to look at her sternly, about to tell her not to talk like that about my wife, but something in her face just made me lose it. I burst out laughing, and wound up having to pull over until I got it together.

Naomi was giving me that arched-eyebrows look again. "I know I'm funny, but it wasn't THAT funny..."

My face was still split in an idiotic grin. "I'm just happy." I pulled back onto the road.

"You're just...what the hell is up with you?"

I debated whether or not to tell her. I wasn't sure Becky would be happy with anyone knowing before we'd decided to make an 'official' announcement. But I also felt like I couldn't NOT tell Naomi.

"We're having another baby. Becky's pregnant," I announced.

"Becky's...oh my GOD!" Naomi flew across the car and tackled me in a bone-crushing hug.

I had to pull over before I crashed.

"I'm so happy for you guys! Oh God, I hope this one's a girl! Don't you hope this one's a girl? Then I'll have a little niece and a nephew."

I grinned at her rambling. Few people were as openly expressive about their joy as my sister, and very few people would feel this happy about a woman they didn't even like bearing them another niece or nephew. If my sister, who'd been left virtually sterile by pelvic surgery when she was twelve, felt any bitterness or regret that Becky would have a second child while she'd never even have one of her own, then she buried it deep down. I wished Becky could see this aspect of my sister, but all Becky saw was a democrat who was taking up space in her house.

As if my thoughts had brushed hers, my sister suddenly turned serious. "Listen, Noah, I really appreciate everything you've done for me, and your offer to let me finish school before moving out. I'm gonna start looking for a place to live, though, so you guys have the room for the baby."

I shook my head. "The baby can stay in the same room as Zach for a year, Nomes. We're happy to-"

"We?" she said dryly.

"Okay, I'm happy to have you stay with us until you're done your school. And Becky will survive for a year. I'm not having my sister be some impoverished college student who has to go the food bank just to get by. Or live in some hellhole where you get mugged every day because you can't afford anything better."

"It's really not a big deal, Noah. I can just-"

"Naomi, you're staying. I love my wife, but I'm not about to let her boot my sister out into the street."

That seemed to crack the usual Naomi, laissez-faire facade. She picked at the loose threads of her ripped jeans. "Don't you ever think that maybe your life would be better if I weren't here?" She looked up. "I hear you guys fighting all the time."

I suppose it was stupid to feel surprised -- after all, if she could hear us having sex, obviously she'd be able to hear us fighting -- but I was surprised. It was Naomi, after all, and I'd always assumed if she could hear us, she'd have brought it up with her usual tactlessness.

"You never said anything."

"I guess I didn't want to rock the boat. I thought if things got bad enough, you'd ask me to leave. But you won't, will you? You're too good of a brother," she said, placing her hand on my arm. "But you need the room for the baby, and Becky's going to go apeshit if I'm still here by the time she delivers. I don't want you to ruin your life for me, Noah."

I grabbed her hand. "Listen to me: you're my sister, and you're the only person in our family who doesn't make me feel miserable every time I'm around them. If Becky really, truly didn't understand how important to me you are, if she really tried to make me throw you out, our marriage would be over, not because of you but because of what that would say about her."

Naomi, for once, was rendered speechless.

"But Becky and I are gonna work things out. We're just getting to used to the whole marriage thing. It's only been a couple of years. We'll get it figured out."

"Are you sure? Because-"

"Naomi," I said pleasantly. "Shut up."

That settled the discussion for the day.

The next week was great, and I thought I might actually be on my way to living up to my earlier words to Naomi. Becky was happy because I was happy and involved. She'd been really shocked and impressed the first time around with Zach how much I thought of the baby, buying parenting books, looking online at all the stuff we'd need to get, and making sure she ate right. My parents, free-love, hippy liberals that they were, were not big on stereotyped gender roles, so my siblings and I were raised to believe that a baby belongs to both parents and was not therefore just the woman's domain. I may have gone away from my roots on many beliefs, but some things we're raised with are too fundamental to shed from our personalities. This one resulted in me getting a lot of great sex, so that was also a plus.

When Becky told me that she'd thought about what I'd said about the kids sharing a room for the year and decided she could live with that, I thought my life had finally achieved perfection. Little did I know how wrong things would soon go.

My eyes snapped open to find the bedroom pitch black with no alarm clock shrieking. I glanced over at it; 3:06AM. I wondered what had woken me up, then I heard the sounds of violent retching coming from our bathroom.

I found Becky, naked and hunched over the toilet in the dark, dry-heaving. So, of course I asked the stupid question that people always ask in these situations:

"Are you okay?"

"Do I-" -- heave -- "Seem like..." -- heave -- "I'm o-" -- HEAVE! -- "-Kay?!"

"Sorry, stupid question," I said, rubbing her back. "Is there anything I can do?"

She heaved several times, and when her head came up again I saw tears glistening on her cheeks in the dim light. "Just go back to bed. I guess it was unreasonable to expect two pregnancies without morning sickness."

I stroked her sweat-soaked hair back from her forehead. "You okay now? Wanna come back to bed?"

She nodded and rose slowly, took two steps then promptly turned back around and dropped in front of the porcelain altar to dry-heave some more.

From that night on, she was sick all the time; if she wasn't actually vomiting, she still felt horrible. We got her Gravol to soothe her stomach, but half the time she couldn't keep the pill down and even when she did she would be just as sick. A month later, she was finally keeping stuff down for the mostpart, but she said she was still nauseous all the time. The slightest things, like standing up too quickly, could send her running for the bathroom.

I might be a little more progressive and sensitive than the average guy, but I was still starting to get pretty sexually frustrated. We'd tried a few times -- five, not that I was counting -- but we'd get as far as a few pumps before she'd be off to the toilet again. Then of course I'd feel too bad to jerk off when she came back to bed miserable. I would have jerked off in the shower more, but when you have two women living with you, you don't get much hot water in the mornings. All this added up to a situation that could not possibly be any good for the penis. I started getting hard at weird times, like while driving in rush hour traffic, zoning out thinking about my wife being all round in a few months and dripping with milk in a couple more. I thought about my boss's receptionist -- not mine, since my receptionist was in her fifties and nearly spherical she was so hefty. I thought about many women, including my sister-in-law, my mother-in-law, my sister's friends, and random women on the street. But I never thought about my sister.

I suppose what I'm trying to get across is that I wasn't a sicko, and I definitely didn't intend what happened.

It was about a month into my wife's morning (read: perpetual) sickness that I was watching TV with Naomi one night while Becky slept upstairs. Zach had tuckered himself out in his playpen and was dozing lightly, thumb in his mouth.

All was well until The Daily Show came on. I can take a joke, so I put up with her watching that liberal BS in my house, even though he completely vilifies Republicans for taking the steps necessary to protect our country, because hey, obviously we should allow our country to be blown up rather than have a few phones tapped or -- God forbid! - take away terrorists' rights -- but I digress.

Stewart was starting in again about Bush, and I decided I'd had enough. "Change the channel." Naomi rolled her eyes. "Chill out, Noah. It's just a joke."

"No, it's typical liberal demonizing of the Right and I'm not in the mood for it today." I eyeballed her, but her eyes were already glued back to the TV.

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