My Breakthrough Movie Ch. 03

My Breakthrough Movie -- Ch. 3

Summary to Date: Jess is a female actor who got lucky, and got the role of a lifetime in a Hollywood movie. It involved nudity and sex, and was designed for the new generation raised on porn online. Jess became the new starlet sex symbol of the decade. As if to solidify her standing as a sex symbol, some devious paparazzi illicitly taped her having sex with the movie's supporting actor, and then switching partners with her best friend, Michelle, who was fucking the romantic lead of the movie. She fell in love with her best friend Sean, and they got engaged. She took him home to meet the family, the men of which love online porn, and quite a family reunion it was!

Warning: The heroine of this story is a bit of a slut. If that's not your taste, you might want to read other stories.

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I sat on my twin brother Bobby's couch. I had just been seduced into having incestuous sex first with my twin, Bobby, and then right after him, when I was at my peak vulnerability from multiple orgasms, I was seduced by our older brother John. I had showered, but I still worried that I stank of sex. Bobby's Prell shampoo had not been kind to my hair, either. I had no make-up on, except for lipstick, which I always have with me, and I was expecting to be watching the sex tapes of my incestuous ravishment with my two brothers, as a condition for them to delete the tapes forever, when the doorbell rang.

The last two people in the world I wanted to drop in just then were my fiancé Sean, and my Dad. It was worse, because I learned -- to my horror -- that our Dad had made the guys promise they would show him the sex tapes they had just made, of us having incest. Apparently, everyone knew, as if it were a foregone conclusion, that my two brothers would successfully seduce me, that very day, at Bobby's apartment.

I realized I had been set up. Bobby knew he could seduce me easily in his nicely decorated apartment, and he had told John to drop by for sloppy seconds, and then he had somehow told Dad to drop in for the great unveiling of the sex videos of my day of shame. To top it all off, Sean was there, too!

I dropped my head into my hands, trying to hide my tears of shame. I ran to Bobby's bedroom and slammed the door shut. It didn't shut: Sean's foot was blocking it. He came into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind him. He held my sobbing face against his broad, powerful chest, as he stroked my hair lovingly.

That just made it worse, to be comforted by the man whose love and trust I had just flagrantly thrown away!

"It's okay, Jess, I know what happened. Your father told me what was going on over here at Bobby's place," he said.

My sobbing doubled in its intensity! I was crying so hard my stomach was wrenching and I could barely catch my breath. I took off my Cartier diamond engagement ring and gave it to Sean. I knew he could not possibly want to marry me now. Maybe if I were lucky, we could stay friends, like we used to be, before we fell in love?

My sobbing increased again at those thoughts.

"Jess, darling, my love, we all knew incest with your brothers was inevitable. You've been in love with them, yes, carnally in love with them, all of your adult life. It was just a question of when," Sean said, in a voice meant to calm the wild beast that roamed inside me.

"Whaaa-at?" I managed to get out.

"You've always wanted your brothers, and they've always wanted you. It's just the way it is in some families. It's not your fault," Sean said.

"Of course, it's my fault!" I wailed. "I could have said no. I should have said no! It's not that way in your family!"

"Who knows? I don't have sisters, and my mother has passed, and I'm not gay," Sean said. Sean did in fact have two brothers, and a father of course.

Normally that would have made me giggle, but I was too far gone to giggle. It did, however, reduce my sobbing, just a bit.

"I still love you. I still want to marry you, Jess," Sean said, as he kissed me right through my salty tears, and slipped his engagement ring right back on my finger.

"You do?" I whispered, scared to death of his answer.

"Yes, I do. What's a little incest among friends, and especially among true lovers, like us?" Sean rhetorically asked.

Sean continued to stroke my head, caress my wet cheek, and kiss me gently, until -- after around twenty minutes -- I had calmed down. We began to hear, through the closed door to Bobby's bedroom, the soundtrack of the videotape of my debasement at the hands of my two brothers.

"Want to watch yourself fuck, my little actor?" Sean asked.

"No!" I said, although that was not completely true, and both Sean and I knew it. An actor always wants to watch herself on film. You cringe, you learn, you get better.

"Yes, you do," Sean said, and he gently, ever so gently, took my hand and led me into Bobby's living room, where three men sat, watching the sex tapes.

I was not prepared to see the three men, all with their gorgeous cocks outside their pants, stroking themselves lovingly, while watching Bobby fuck my brains out on the tube. In particular, there was my Dad, beating off to the sight of his twins engaging in incestuous love. Lord almighty, my family is strange!

I nervously looked at Sean. He was riveted to the screen. I saw a growing lump in his pants, as well. Maybe men are all the same? Porn turns them on, even if it's their sister, brother, daughter, son, or fiancé in the tapes? Maybe even especially so? I, in contrast, just felt shame. Lots and lots of shame.

As we watched, however, I began to relive the fucks, and to remember just how wonderful they were. It was not just the sex, which was great in and of itself, but it was the culmination of literally years of yearning for the sex, for the sex as an outlet for the intense feelings I have always had for my two brothers.

My brother John, who read to me when I was little, who helped me to learn to ride a bicycle, who helped me with my math homework, who was always there for me, always with a kind and encouraging word, was my idea of an ideal brother.

My twin brother Bobby, with whom I could speak without words? He always knew my thoughts just as I always knew his. We almost could have cheated on tests in school via mental telepathy, but of course we didn't, and probably couldn't, it just felt that way. At times, I felt as if Bobby and I shared a single brain. I imagine other twins felt the same way?

Things changed a bit at puberty, an awkward time for most people. We used each other to explore the changes, but let's not dwell on that. We were always close, and I knew, from age 13 on, that eventually we would make love.

In college we had long discussions on philosophy, and the theory of acting. Bobby majored in electrical engineering (he always was an egghead) but he still took philosophy and literature classes. He studied political theory, which he called applied philosophy, and we had many a rewarding conversation deep into the night. Sometimes at the end we'd kiss goodnight, and sometimes the kisses would be -- inappropriate, shall we say -- for siblings. We both knew, without ever speaking it, that eventually we'd fuck.

Now, a long ten years after my clairvoyance at age 13, we had finally done the deed. With Bobby, it had been inevitable, the culmination of a lifetime of deep love and brotherhood, for lack of a less sexist word. Siblinghood? It doesn't have the same éclat.

I found myself getting wet as I watched. When my fuck with Bobby ended, and I was wasted by my orgasm from heaven, I watched John quickly sneak into place. I listened and watched the entire seduction John had used to get me to say 'yes,' and thereby to seal my fate. I found it comical. He knew, and I knew, but for me it was on a subconscious level, that I would cave and give into him, give myself to him, too. How could I not?

Looking back, yes, I was resisting having sex with John, especially right after sex with Bobby, but I knew I wanted it, and I knew I wanted it even as I was saying no, repeatedly, until finally I lost it, and said yes. John too knew I had wanted it. Booby knew. Even my Dad knew. I wondered if Sean actually knew? Don't go there, Jess.

I sat through the entire video tapes, and watched my two brothers and yes, my Dad too, spill their seed over watching yours truly get her brains fucked out. Only Sean managed to resist ejaculating, and I'm sure that was out of respect and love for me. It was gross to see the three men ejaculate like that, but as if it were a bad traffic accident, my eyes were riveted to the scene. I could not look away.

I stood over John and Bobby as I watched them delete the movies forever. Of course, they could have backed them up to some cloud, somewhere. At some point you just have to trust. If you can't trust your own family, who can you trust?

As the men were finishing banishing the sex tapes to oblivion, all five of us got texts. They were the same text, from Mom:

Dinner is ready. Get your asses over here before it gets cold!

Ah, Mom. You've got to love her. I alone got an extra text:

I hope you're okay. I've got some perfume for you here if you smell of sex. I invited your friend Michelle, and also Stephanie and Maria, to take some of the pressure off you.

So, Mom knew, too! She also knew that Sean had a prior crush on Michelle (as did John and Bobby, and every man in town with a Y chromosome), she knew that Bobby was sweet on Stephanie, and that John was gaga over Maria. Dad had Mom, so there was a woman for everyone, and I could relax, although I think Mom overdid it by inviting Michelle to occupy Sean. Sean was for me, after all!

Stephanie was the key girl in high school that made me jealous. She stood five feet eight, and she had a classic hourglass figure, although her boobs were just a tad too big to make her absolutely perfect. She had brown eyes, but long, naturally blonde hair, which was silken and luxurious. She looked like the girls in a shampoo commercial when they flip their hair.

Stephanie's only fault was that she was smarter than every boy in our high school, except for one. You guessed it: That one smart guy was my brother Bobby. Bobby's only fault was his fear of rejection. He had Stephanie on a pedestal, and he was too ashamed to try to use her for sex. He used Marybeth and Alexis instead. Well, those days were over! The two of them, Bobby and Stephanie, were perfect for each other. Was I jealous? Well, yes, just a little bit.

I didn't know Maria well. She was a grade ahead, and we didn't socialize. She had that Latin beauty of a Mexican goddess. She also had a glorious figure, and she had the habit of wearing clothes she had to be poured into. She had full, thick lips, which she accentuated with bright red lipstick. She always looked hot to trot. She was also a sweetheart, quickest draw in the west to flash a smile. Her teeth looked like they were designed for a toothpaste commercial; she could blind you with her smile! She was the perfect woman for John. John's tendency towards depression would be more than counteracted by Maria's relentless good cheer.

I couldn't stop wondering, though: Why did Mom invite Michelle? I mean, I love Michelle, and she's my best friend, but she was like a ninth wheel on an eight-wheel wagon: Mom for Dad, Stephanie for Bobby, Maria for John, and me for Sean. That left nobody for Michelle. Well, little matter: it was just dinner, and it would be great to see Michelle again, and to break bread with her.

Sean was seated between Michelle and me, but when he left his seat for the bathroom halfway through the dinner, I took his place, and then Michelle and I gabbed up a storm!

Dinner went smoothly. Mom made roast chicken with roast potatoes and string beans. We washed it down with a spectacular red(!) Zinfandel from California. The nine of us went through four bottles and got through half of a fifth, before Mom brought out her legendary specialty: "Chocolate Cake Aunt Mindy." Chocolate Cake Aunt Mindy, so named because my Mom's Aunt Mindy (now dead) created the recipe, was the family favorite of desserts. Often imitated, never equaled, it was doubtless the best chocolate cake in the world. Aunt Mindy must have been a culinary genius.

Michelle was too wasted to drive home. Actually, everyone was too wasted. Stephanie slept with Bobby in his bed from childhood, ditto Maria with John, and Michelle took the couch, since Sean was sharing my bed. I was so drunk and exhausted from the emotions of the day that I quickly fell out before Sean could even try to seduce me, and I was dead to the world.

"Wake me up in the middle of the night and fuck me silly, lover," were the last words out of my mouth that weren't snores, although I don't think I snore. Not really. As is my habit, I slept nude, with a robe at the foot of the bed in case I needed the bathroom during the night.

Sure enough, I was waked around 4AM by Sean's hands running over my naked body. They seemed rougher than normal, but when you're drunk and only half awake at 4AM and played out by having earlier fucked your two brothers, each for the first time ever, your senses are not at their best. I forgot my room had blackout shades, and it was pitch dark in the room.

Sean began by kissing my boobs as his hand drifted south to my pussy. This was not his usual technique, but if felt nice, and I never argue with success! As Sean got on top of me, positioning his hard cock, he seemed to be heavier than usual, as if he had instantly acquired a bit of a paunch, just like the one my father had.

Wait a minute.

"Who are you?" I whispered, hoping and praying it would be Sean who answered me, as the man had his torso between my legs, and his cock was poised, right there, at my entrance. Suddenly, I head moaning coming from Bobby's room; then moans came as well from John's room, and then a third set of moans floated in from the couch in the living room! All three of the guest women were being fucked, and all at the same time: 4AM!

Wait a minute. Who's fucking Michelle?

Wait another goddam minute: Who's about to fuck me?

Assuming Bobby's porking Stephanie (good for Bobby, that dog! Stephanie is smoking hot), and John is having his way with Maria (herself an eminently worthy babe), then it must be Dad fucking Michelle? No way! Unless, of course, it's Sean fucking Michelle again, and then it would be -- OMG -- Dad on top of me, poised to fuck me!

These thoughts flashed through my mind at the speed of lightning. Sean is betraying me with Michelle, and setting me up for Dad to fuck me? No, I can't believe it! Dad is the one person I had never lusted for. Bobby, yes, certainly; John too, indubitably; but Dad? No! For one thing, I could never do that to Mom!

Just then the door to my room opened, and in the ambient light from the hallway, I saw my Mom, naked, standing there. She still had great boobs, and she didn't shave down there, I noticed. "Mark, save something for me. I'm horny, and when you're through with Jess, I want some good, hard sex, okay?"

"You got it, Emily. Thanks for setting me up with Jess. Pairing off the men like that tonight was a stroke of genius. How'd you know about Sean and Michelle?" Dad said to Mom, while he lay on top of my naked body, his cock pushing at the entrance to my soul.

"It was easy, Mark. I just asked Sean if there was someone he wanted to lay tonight, to clear the field for you with Jess. I lied a bit, and told him Jess had always wanted you to lay her. Or maybe I was right? Was I right, Jess?"

"Hi, Mom. You're wrong, and setting me up like this is wrong. Fucking Bobby and John today was enough incest for a lifetime! Get off me, Dad," I said. "Now! Off you go! I'm also pissed you set up Sean to fuck my BFF Michelle! This is all so fucked up! Shame on you, Mom!"

"Now, now, Jess. Sean needs to get some illicit loving in, to cope with all of your cheating with your family, and you'd have been truly angry if it had been me who had seduced him. Michelle will just enjoy him, and then give him back to you as good friends do, and meanwhile you get to enjoy the most wonderful fuck in the world, my very own husband Mark. Be grateful I'm lending him to you tonight, I don't do this for all of my daughters, you know" my Machiavellian Mom told me. "Now you two have fun. Don't forget about me, Mark!"

"Mom, I'm your only daughter," I said.

"Well, doesn't that make you special! Show your Dad just how special you are, Honeybunch," she said, using the term of endearment she used throughout my childhood. Now, however, I had just turned twenty-three and I was a movie star, a sex symbol, and a victim of massive incest!

I thought back to earlier in the day when I had seen my Dad's erect cock for the first time, as he beat off to images of me getting fucked. He had one hell of a cock. It was thicker and a little longer that either Bobby's or John's. I guess they had regression towards the mean, when it came to cock size, not that I cared. I didn't.

Still, I remembered that time when Eric and his monster cock had fucked me. Maybe I could just pretend Dad was not my dad, but rather that he was Sean's best friend Eric? Nah, that wouldn't work. I thought about my childhood, and how Dad would always put me on his lap and read me a story. Some of those books were still in my room!

"Hey, Dad, I've got an idea. Get off me. I want to sit in your lap while you read me a story, okay?" This could be fun! Dad got off me reluctantly. My pussy lips had closed around the tip of his cock, and maybe by some definitions of intercourse, he had already started a fuck?

I picked out Charlotte's Web, which was my first chapter book when I was little. Dad sat in my arm chair, his cock sticking straight up, and I positioned myself carefully, so I was not sitting on his cock! Dad then grabbed one of my boobs to hold me in place, he said, and he read to me the first few chapters of Charlotte's Web. I squirmed around on his lap as he read to me, teasing his cock to the max. I got the giggles, and I couldn't stop.

Eventually Dad tired of my games, and he picked me up around ten inches above his lap, and then lowered me down onto his hard, erect cock. I let out a soft gasp as I sank down, and his cock rose up inside me. The die was cast: I was fucking my own father.

"For how long have you wanted to fuck me, your little girl, Dad?" I asked.

"Ever since I saw you fuck that guy Ryan in your movie, you little wench of a daughter of mine," Dad said. So, he had not wanted to fuck me all my adult life, like Bobby and John had. He had just fallen in lust with his own daughter, the actor extraordinaire, the sex symbol of the new decade.

Dad spun me around so that I faced him. He kept his cock inside me during the spin. He stared at my boobs, using the ambient light entering my room from the doorway. I heard the moans of Stephanie, Maria, and damn it all, Michelle, as I looked at Dad, this man old enough to be my father (hee, hee), with his cock sticking far up my twat.

He began to move.

Holy shit, how does he do that? How does he move like that, turning me on in ways I could never even have imagined? My breathing changed; I could barely catch my breath. I was gasping for air, as my own father displayed his total mastery over my body and soul, picking me up and dropping me down, screwing his cock in a circular motion, and then without warning plunging deep, deep inside me, stretching the walls of my vaginal canal with his thick, hard cock. Oh, wow!

Was this the man who raised me? Was this the man who -- with the patience of Job -- had taught me to drive a car? Was this the man who helped me to pack and drove me off to college and then, away from view, had to give the wheel to Mom as he cried all the way home? Was this man now fucking the bejesus out of me?