I'm Home 0.0

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Paul Garvey comes home to his mother and daughter.
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I pissed off some folks with my last efforts a while back, hopefully this is more in the right place. Be fore-warned, incest elements below, and it eventually gets weirder if I stick with it. All characters are over 18.

A man stepped up onto the sidewalk, the smooth and level concrete segments - still bright and unstained by time - revealing the truth of their new construction. The shiny white mailbox and the dark blue vinyl siding of the two story house before him bespoke much the same - glossy new construction, perhaps not even having seen a single drop of rain yet.

An anomaly in this day and age; a neighborhood like this - clad in the dressing of early twenty-first century American suburbia - had not been built in a very long time. But here it was, shining and new, and so was he, in a fresh pressed charcoal sport coat and slacks - clean and fresh to meet the inhabitants of this unlikely home.

He did not so much as pause at the white door with its simple golden knocker - a lump of cheap metal plated with a veneer of luxury in the kind of aspiration only the American middle class had ever thought worth a damn - and ignored the doorbell, opening the unlocked door and striding into the bright sunlit interior with growing confidence.

Inside was a snapshot of a time and place that was long gone - filled with antiquated furniture and luxuries once taken for granted. An open high-ceiling room with an excessively large "L" shaped sofa - a large thin panel television hung a bit too high to be comfortable to make way for a fake gas-fueled fireplace, and there beyond, an opening into a large kitchen where two women conversed around a tall island in the center, its faux marble countertop gleaming.

They did not seem to hear him enter, and he approached them with solemn purpose. Cutting across the room directly towards them from the door - which he did not even bother to close behind him - he closed the distance rapidly, their conversation becoming intelligible long before they noticed him.

"How was the last week of school? You're going to miss it you know." A tall woman - made towering in her glossy white pumps - stood by the table, resting her hip ever so lightly against it. Her voice was feminine but deep, lending it a regal air - with an exotic but unplaceable accent rich with breathy vowels and a song-like verse.

"*Na-na!"* Retorted an obviously younger woman - blonde and lithe - seated atop a tall chair with a woven wicker seat and back, and leaning forward on her elbows on the countertop, cradling her face in her hands while wearing the exasperated expression that is the birthright of the overstimulated young everywhere. "Of course *you* miss school, that was *ages* ago for you! I'm so *ready* to be done with classes and teachers and grades and all the rest for summer, and then - college!"

The tall woman's lips curved gently - a soft and loving smile that brought out her dimples - and she straightened back from the countertop, resting her hands at her hips atop the bright white pleated miniskirt that displayed her long, bronzed legs to great effect. "Alright, alright. Your father should be home soon. You'll have to ask *him* whatever you were about to ask me permission for. I'm just here to make sure you don't forget to eat and waste away like the scrawny thing you are."

"Hmmmphh!" The blonde girl slumped forward a bit more and rolled her eyes as she groaned. "He'll *never* let me *goooo*." As she did so, the light caught on the dip and curve of her back where it was bared by the mid-riff baring cut of her shirt. It was possible to even catch the barest glimpse of letters printed on the band of her panties - revealed at the base of her bared back where the waist of her scandalous cut-off shorts dipped away from her skin.

It was only then, when the man crossed into the kitchen that either of the women noticed him - the tall woman turning in a moment of brief surprise towards him, the movement causing the thick wavey mane of her pitch-dark hair to shift about her head and throwing a loose lock across her face. Lifting a hand to slide the errant hairs back into place, she grinned and began to speak a greeting - but he closed the distance to her before sound could leave her opening mouth and slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her in tight to him.

Her prodigious bust - vast, buoyant and impressive even without a sliver of what would likely be profound cleavage on display in a thin black turtleneck of some pleasantly soft material - squished gently against the hard planes of his chest, and she exhaled softly at the sudden press of contact, lifting her eyes to his face in surprise but not alarm. "You're home early, and what brings this on so suddenly Pau..." Before she could finish, he cut her off by pressing his lips against hers - with intensity and a touch of savagery - following quickly by forcing his tongue into the warm and wet cage of her mouth, turning what had already been a forcefully passionate kiss into something outright obscene and suckling.

The blonde girl sat there - her pale pink lips parted slightly as her eyes widened in an expression of shock, her head finally rising from its cradle in her palms as her back straightened. No words seemed suitable for the moment to her - and so the only sound for several long moments was just the wet squelch of tongues and lips wrestling and a low grunting groan breaking from deep within the tall, dark-haired woman's chest.

At last, after a seeming eternity - she pulled herself free of the man's aggressive lip lock. Leaning back in his embrace, her hands rose to rest gently on his biceps - her long nails painted a pearlescent pastel blue digging slightly into the fabric of his coat-sleeves as she did so. "Wha...what was....but I'm your *mother*. We ca..." Her words were soft and broken by hot exhalations and deep breaths - and she did not get to finish them as he cut her off.

"Fucking *shut up*." His words were terse, but neither cruel nor kind - offered as a simple and strident command as he pressed forward again, lifting one hand to the back of her head and jerking her face forward so that their lips crushed together once more. He dropped the other hand from her waist to below the hem of her short skirt, rucking it up carelessly so he could take a thick palmful of one her thick and firm buttocks - revealing the thin line of a navy blue silk thong line caught in the deep valley of her ass as he did so.

Despite her words - shocked in tone and content - there was no posture of defiance to her, no resistance nor meaningful effort to extricate herself from his embrace. She stood as if there to serve his pleasure - subject to his desires, and to be released only at his whim.

"*Dad! Nana!"* The blonde teenager's shocked cry was what ultimately broke the spell - as she jerkily pushed back her chair and dropped her sleek legs to the tiled floor, the soles of her tennis shoes making a soft scuffing sound as she half stepped, half slid back from the countertop.

The man and the dark-haired woman disentangled themselves then - but only partly, his hand still gripping a bounty of ass-cheek and in doing so keeping the curve of her hip firmly docked to the straighter line of his own. She had an air of maturity in her eyes, and in the set of her jaw - but she still seemed *entirely* too young to be his *mother,* despite a certain ageless quality to her beauty. Her face was free of wrinkle or blemish, her bare legs and arms both toned and bronzed - she was surely at best a well preserved creature of high society, with a body honed and well cared for and *certainly* never subject to the rigors of childbirth in the near or distant past.

Whatever the truth of the matter - the man was not done commanding his two counterparts, and the strange scene was far from done escalating. "You. Come here. Now." He gestured the blonde girl to his side even as he half-turned back to his current companion, gripping her shoulder through the short sleeve of her top and pushing firmly but not particularly forcefully down. No words for her - the command was implicit, and she sank to her knees before him, her bare feet slipping slightly out the back of her tall white heels as she folded her legs under her to assume the posture he seemed to demand.

Meanwhile, the blonde girl stumbled towards him - her eyes still wide with shock, her lips still parted in uncertain surprise - a kind of drunken stupor seeming to guide her motions as she closed the distance between them. At last, as she came within arms length and he simply *grabbed* her by the seat of her torn shorts and drew her in forcefully - did she manage to sputter out a few words again in exasperation and fear and shock. "*Dad!* What are you *doing?* I'm your *daugh..."* And that was the end of that as he brought his hand up to the take a firm hold on the back of her head as he brought her mouth to his and thrust his tongue forward into her mouth.

Even as he kissed the girl in a way that seemed less sensual than it was a form of sexual *plunder* - he was not done with the lush beauty kneeling in a kind of daze at his feet. Urgently grasping at the front of his pants without breaking his engagement with the girl - he managed to unbuckle his belt and tug down the zipper of his trousers, pulling them askew so he could expose the thickening mass of his cock, dark and flushing with blood. Gripping it by the base, he instinctively guided its bulbous head - wet with the thick and slimy discharge of his arousal - towards the bruised lips of the docile slut at his feet.

As compliant and dazed as she seemed - the kneeling woman did not seem to immediately comprehend what was being demanded of her, and for a strange few moments his cock waggled in front of her face as her gaze followed it with confusion and some hint of alarm. Thrusting his hips forward, the tip smacked wetly against her lips, and then dragged lewdly along them and onto her cheek - and for a moment this seemed to wake her from the strange haze and she leaned back and gasped. "*No!* What are you doing?"

Grunting angrily against what was seemingly becoming a more *involved* and *interactive* session of mutual tongue-fucking with his blonde counterpart - the man grabbed the back of the head of his other partner and gripping her tightly through the mass of her hair, pulled her forward onto his outthrust cock as she attempted to more angrily complain. Garbling her words in a brief struggle as she made a weak effort to resist - turning her face away from his cock as he dragged her to it and leaving shining wet trails on her cheeks and lips as she did so.

Huffing angrily, he pulled back from the blonde girl - her expression now glazed and lusty, her tongue lolling slightly out of her mouth as he turned down to the dark-haired woman. "*Open!*" The command was angry and loud, the word bouncing off the pale wood cabinets and the ceramic tile floor of the kitchen, and it was obeyed. As if by instinct, her eyes widening in shock - perhaps at her own immediate obedience to the barked command - the woman parted her lips, and the man slammed his now angrily hardened penis past the gates of her jaw and deep into one of her warm, wet holes.

Turning back to the teenager he now seemed to only need cradle by the curve of her barely-clad ass - he lowered his lips back to her willing ones. The tableau was then set - one man and two women, a busty bronzed amazon kneeling beside the man, her mouth being busily fucked by his cock, and a slim blonde girl not without her own curves engaging in a display of mutually hungry tongue-wrestling and lip-smashing that would have done any oversexed teenage couple proud.

*** Later ***

"Oh fucking jeeee-zzzuuusss *how is your cock so big?*" Anna growled between deep moans that seemed to boil out of the depths of her lungs - as the very identifiable sound of flesh wetly slapping on flesh provided a consistent background patter to her words and moans. She was up on the island countertop, ass perched on the edge and propping herself up on her elbows as her *son* fucked her for the second time that afternoon - her pussy was already oozing with his last load of hot cum, much of which was now being churned to a fresh frothy mess with her own juices and was liberally leaking down the inside slopes of her thighs and ass to drip messily onto the once clean floor.

Anna was also *pretty sure* there was at least some of her *grand daughter's* own discharge inside her - as the girl's *father* hadn't exactly taken any time to clean up after fucking her before pushing Anna up onto the counter and forcing her legs apart for another go. "*Fuuuck*, how am I so tight? It was a long time ago but I've had *children*." Anna clamped her teeth together and grunted through their cage as she felt another orgasm ripple through her traitorous cunt and derail her thoughts again.

"God, just shut the fuck up already. *Command authority, limit emotional emulation and cut higher cognition.*" The man grunted out mere moments before he came himself, depositing a much diminished load of fresh semen into Anna's wet hole - his balls ever so slightly pained from an excess of demand upon them. As he stepped back from between her legs, his cock slumping free of her as he began to soften at last - she said nothing, and remained there awkwardly holding her precarious position at the edge of the countertop with her legs spread wide, breathing heavily but her gaze reduced to a blank stare.

"Hmm. Well doesn't that ruin the moment. Well whatever, get down here and clean me up with your mouth." The man stood impatiently as Anna complied silently, sliding down off the island - her cum-stained skirt falling back down to conceal her well used cunt but not the wet trails leaking down the insides of her thighs. Her top had been rucked up at some point, lifted up and over her breasts to free their heavy teardrop forms - her dark nipples engorged and shining with wetness, and a spread of red marks showing where her teats had been manhandled repeatedly - but she did not attempt to cover them. Utterly compliant now, and silently docile - she stepped forward, then dropped to her knees once more before the man she knew as her son, and proceeded to hungrily fellate him, making generous use of her tongue to gather up the excess of three people's cum that coated his cock and was splashed across his pelvis and starting to leak onto his thighs.

He managed to get hard again, *somehow*, and he called out to the teenager he had left riding a strong orgasm on the couch - "*Lara*, get over here now!"

Lara stumbled over moments later - her legs weak like a newborn filly - mostly naked since her sexiest cut-off shorts had been abandoned on the floor in the other room and were in desperate need of detergent and bleach to scrub out the cum that had gotten all over them. Really, as she took a dazed moment to take stock of herself - she was basically *entirely* naked. Her father had torn her favorite t-shirt - thin grey wool, long sleeved with a wide neck to show off a hint of cleavage, and cropped to show off her athletic belly. It had been a gift from the woman now sucking the cock of the man who had destroyed it - tearing it straight down the middle as he grabbed the collar and just *pulled* in his hunger to get at her plump and bouncy apple-sized tits. She idly recalled that the shirt had been just a touch *scandalous* because her *Nana, her grandmother* had bought her something just a touch sexy. It had been their little secret, and now it was good for little more than a cum-soaked rag.

"Get over here, she got me hard again, and I want both of you on it - and make sure you swallow it all and make sure I'm good and cleaned up afterwards." His voice was firm, and brooked no argument - but Lara, dazed as she was from *losing her virginity* and the strongest orgasm she'd ever had was starting to get a bit of her fight back in her.

"Fuck *you*. You...we're not *supposed to be fucking*. You're certainly not supposed to have taken *my virginity*. What is even going *on?* What happened today that made you go insane...and...why do *I want this?"* Lara's words were hot - she wasn't sure how she should be feeling, but certainly more angry than she was, but the best she could manage was a kind of deep irritation, as if he'd told her she had to cancel plans with her friends and stay in to study for a test.

"Oh dammit." The man cursed in exasperation at Lara's angry retort - and repeated what he had said to Anna not too long before. Lara saw his lips moving, and knew he was speaking - but for some reason she could not hear the words, and then it did not matter because Lara wasn't properly Lara anymore and lacked the will or means to really care or understand much of anything aside from his specific demands.

Crossing the distance between them in a few strides, she dropped to her knees in a single smooth motion - her small pink nipples bouncing fetchingly atop the plump swells of her breasts as she did; so unlike the dark engorged nubs and enormous teats of the woman beside her. As Lara leaned in, Anna was still busily thrusting her head along the length of the cock in her mouth, her lips wrapped around its girth as her tongue massaged it - but without any particular acknowledgement of Lara's arrival, she released the shaft with a wet "pop", a thin line of saliva linking her lips to its head as she turned her head slightly to meet the blonde's own lips around the bobbing rod of flesh.

The two of them working together made short work of these last embers of his ardour - and the man, father and son, found himself climaxing one last time that day.

*** Later ***

They called him "Paul". It wasn't his name - but they thought it was. He was Paul Garvey, loving son of Anna Dash and doting father of Lara Garvey. Paul was a widower - the successful son of a teenage single mother who had herself gone on to successful career, and the father of a beautiful and intelligent daughter who was just about to go to college.

It was a pleasant fiction, though little more than the drivel that one found in the kind of pornography nobody made anymore. If you poked at it even a little bit, it all fell apart like wet paper. Though of course, neither Anna nor Lara would ever ask such questions. The story he thought of as thin drivel was their *lives* after all.

Anna was in the garage - doing her yoga in a fetching set of yoga pants and a sports bra that really struggled with her mighty chest and showed a lot more cleavage than was probably preferable. Lara was wearing a set of athletic shorts so tight and...well *short* that they were more a kind of panty - and a cropped top that was almost modest compared to the shorts as she studied for final exams in the kitchen. This was their life though, and they had no reason to question it. He didn't always like to make it quite so obvious - what this place was and who and what they really were to him - often they wore normal, if slightly sexy, clothes and the three of them just spent time together. It was sometimes wholesome, and reminded him of another life - but it was hard to ignore what Anna and Lara *looked* like even in normal clothes, and the mirage would inevitably fade.

"Paul? Is something wrong? You've been brooding a lot recently. Is something wrong at work - you've been taking a lot of time off recently. I actually can't even remember the last time you went in to be honest..." Anna's voice cut through his ruminations on the back patio as she stepped out of the house - approaching quietly on bare feet across the stones and waving at their neighbors out gardening in their backyard as she stepped up beside him.

"No, no everything is fine. Better than fine. Work is great too - big project I was working on finished up. Huge success; beyond expectations honestly - so I'm taking some time off to..." *Paul* paused for a moment before continuing. "...savor the results."

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