All characters are over 18 years of age -- blah blah blah, etc.
This is my entry into the Literotica Nude Day Contest 2013. It's an incest piece -- which is pretty obvious given the story category I submitted it to -- that begins with Melissa, Eammon, Julia and Ben heading off for a holiday in a caravan by the sea on the south coast of England.
Ben, Melissa's boyfriend, much to her overbearing father's chagrin, accompanies the family. Julia, Eammon's wife, Melissa's mother, takes a shine to the young man ... and it goes on from there.
It's a long piece at just over 40k words because I found had to draw out the seduction scenes in an attempt to at least preserve some degree of believability. That was my intent, to make it at least a little bit credible since, "Hi, Dad. Wow, that's a big cock, let's fuck. Hey, Mum, Dad's got a hard-on, it'd be a shame to waste it", just doesn't seem plausible to me ... Well, maybe on the Fens in the east of England that'd work, but...
Anyway, I digress.
I apologise for any errors that (almost certainly) remain in the text. I hope typos and gaping plot-holes don't detract too much from any enjoyment you may glean from my humble offering. I had a plan for the submission, but it went off at a tangent during the writing process as these things tend to do.
As usual I'd appreciate feedback. This is significantly longer than anything I've submitted to Lit before and, since I usually write in the first person I'd also be interested to know how that went down.
Feedback can be by public comment below, a PM to me directly or by email. If you want a response from me, email is best.
Right, that's it. I'll shut up and leave it. I hope you enjoy the following.
GA -- Calp, Spain -- 26th June 2013.
Eammon Morgan's fingers tightened on the steering wheel when he flicked a glance at the rear view mirror and his eyes brushed over the young man sitting in the back seat. It wasn't that he disliked Ben, nobody could say he'd been impolite or hostile in his dealings with him, what he felt was the natural concern any father had for his daughter -- his darling Melissa. His princess. It didn't matter that the girl was all grown up. To Eammon, she was precious, and he intended to protect her from the world, from pain and heartbreak, as long as he had breath in his body.
"Everything all right back there?" he called, and then threw a look over his shoulder to check on the gap between his daughter and her recently acquired boyfriend.
Melissa's eyes rolled with theatrical exaggeration. She heaved an exasperated sigh and replied with, "Will you stop going on. How many times do you have to ask?"
"It's all fine Mister Morgan," Ben interjected, flashing a white-toothed grin, the smile bright in his tanned face.
"We should be there in half-an-hour," Eammon said, the light tone belying the inner turmoil he felt at the younger man's presence. He turned his attention back to the road, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with suspicion at what could be going on behind him, only vaguely aware, as usual, of his wife in the seat beside him.
Julia Morgan stared out of the window with a blank expression papered over her face. She sat there unthinking, her mind simply drifting, bored with her husband, bored with her marriage, sick of her life and numbed at the prospect of yet another holiday, camping.
And why-oh-why did he insist on Melissa coming too? He was a bully and bloody control-freak, that's why. A man so afraid to let his daughter go, a man too wrapped up in his work to notice that his wife was on the verge of a breakdown.
Her husband was a selfish pig. Why couldn't he just listen to her? What was wrong with something different, something ... exciting? Julia fancied a safari holiday in Kenya, that's all. It wasn't like back-packing through Central America. It didn't even have to be that adventurous, she didn't need to see elephants and giraffe in the wild, Julia would be happy with a trip to Benidorm, anything but the same old thing: a week in a caravan by the sea.
From the corner of her eye Julia saw Eammon swivel in his seat. She heard him speak to the couple in the back seat and listened to Ben's reply.
At the thought of Ben Julia squirmed in her own seat, a flare of desire catching her by surprise. Now he was something special: tall, fit and good-looking, all tightly packed muscle -- nothing too overdone, just nicely proportioned and toned.
Julia smiled at her reflection in the window a few inches from her face, glazed and vacant eyes focussing after gazing at the interminable motorway scene for what seemed an age. The holiday might not be too hideous for a change. At least this time there was the prospect of getting an eyeball full of a gorgeous young hunk in a pair of swimming shorts.
She was determined that things would change. It was time to break out, to show her father that she was now a young woman, no longer a little girl. Melissa would always be his princess but she needed some space.
It had been so difficult asking her father if Ben could join them on the holiday. She knew he'd come up with all kinds of reasons for not allowing Ben to join in, that he would bluster and make noises about it being family time, how he didn't spend enough time with Melissa and her mother, although he would blame work, as usual for that.
There would be words about inconvenience and sleeping arrangements, she could just picture her father's mournful expression as he tried to guilt her about having just met Ben and was it wise to have him with them for such a condensed period. But, to her immense surprise Eammon had acquiesced when, in an uncharacteristic show of determination, Melissa had laid down her ultimatum: Either Ben comes with us or I'm staying at home.
Her father had buckled, preferring the man's presence to leaving his precious daughter alone for ten days. There was no way Eammon was going to have her out of sight for that period. Alone with the new boyfriend on the scene? Not a chance.
Melissa slid a look towards Ben, winking when she caught his eye. You okay? she mouthed, rolling her eyes towards the front of the car.
Ben, following a quick check of the rear view mirror to make sure the old man had his eyes on the road, nodded, his lips forming the words, I want to lick your pussy.
Melissa blinked and blew out her cheeks, a tingle of lust between her legs at the thought of Ben's tongue sliding over her clit. The girl allowed herself a quick reverie of the risky sex she'd enjoyed. She thought about how she'd been stood, her arms braced against the wall while Ben lifted her skirt and eased his cock into her from behind. The chance that her father could have walked in on them at any time had given Melissa such a thrill that she'd been forced to stifle her cries of pleasure by biting the web of one hand, her orgasm so intense that her clenching pussy had milked Ben's cock within a few strokes.
She was looking forward to more of the same during the holiday: hot sex with Ben, the riskier the better. This newly discovered penchant for taking chances, especially risks fraught with the danger of her father catching her at it had the girl wondering which of her parents, if either, she took after. Somehow she couldn't see her uptight, domineering father being into it, and her mother -- so brittle and aloof these days (when had that happened?) -- would probably rather die than admit to the sex act even existing.
Melissa knew that it hadn't always been that way between her mum and dad. She could remember her mother being pretty and vivacious. Melissa's opinion was that her mother still looked good; a bit plumper than the girl remembered. But on her mum it looked good, even Ben had dropped a comment about Julia's voluptuous curves. Melissa had feigned disgust when her boyfriend had made a quip about seeing Julia in a bikini, punching his arm and throwing back a pithy retort when, in actual fact, the thought of Ben ogling her mother had turned Melissa on.
It might not be such a bad holiday after all. The only problems were her father's overbearing attitude, and his indifference towards his wife was deplorable, but, for herself, Melissa also hoped that having Ben with her on the holiday would finally make her father see that she had her own life to lead. Her mother could deal with her own shit.
He wanted to touch her, craved her lovely pudding-sized tits in his hands while he leaned in and sucked her nipples. The frustration was almost too much, made him crazy with desire, and Melissa's old man's constant observation was getting to him too. Not that he could blame Eammon, Ben could understand the bloke's attitude towards him. After all, Melissa was the man's daughter; she was gorgeous and desirable, a walking fantasy, and it couldn't be easy knowing that some randy squaddie had designs. Ben was sure that if he ever had a daughter, years in the future, that he'd be as suspicious and protective as Melissa's dad.
But Ben was young and full of it and especially horny after six months in the Afghan with the Royal Artillery. Melissa had answered an ad in a magazine for forces pen-pals, and her letter had found him after four months in-country.
Their correspondence had taken a predictable course: a couple of letters each way, tentative at first, with both of them shy at the strangeness of it before their confidence grew and they exchanged email addresses for quicker communication.
The messages to-and-fro became ever more flirty until, as time went on and they grew, through words and photographs, to like each other more and more, the scenarios they conjured between them growing hotter and sexual, they arranged a meeting upon Ben's safe return.
It went on from there.
To Ben, even after the privations of six months away -- less several days R&R -- the girl was incredible. He'd been captivated by her at first sight, finding her even more attractive and sexy than any of the pictures he'd seen, and some of the images Melissa had sent were pretty close to the bone. She was slim, pretty, her hair reminiscent of Jennifer Aniston in one of those old episodes of Friends. Melissa's eyes, pale green, reminded him of a cat's, and he loved the way she stared at him when things were growing heated between. The girl's nose would crinkle as she offered her sly smirk, her eyes narrowing to slits while she did something to provoke him; something like cup her bare boobs and tease her own nipples, or sit in one of the deep armchairs in her parents' living room and flash her plump vulva while her father's back was turned.
Ben saw that Melissa got her looks from her mother, and he wouldn't have minded giving Julia one -- if he wasn't already involved with her daughter, and, of course, if Julia wasn't already married to Melissa's father. The old bird had something about her that got him going: eyes the same green as Melissa's; the same shape with a slight slant. She had a nice set of knockers on her too, big and round with a lovely bum acting in counter-balance. Ben got a sense that Julia, like him, under different circumstances, might be interested in a taste of the forbidden. He'd caught a look from her once or twice. Seen something shift behind her eyes, noticed an odd look on her face.
He looked out of the window at a plane coming in, low on its approach to Gatwick Airport as the car's tyres hummed along the surface of the M23 motorway. He pictured Julia -- again -- in a swimming costume, hopeful that she might even be brave enough for a bikini. He nodded internally, amused as he wondered briefly about the boys from the Battery who, at that moment, were scattered about the country, some away on the beaches in Greece, Spain, even Thailand, and what adventures they were having.
Ben was happy enough; this could turn out to be a nice little holiday: a hot girl to fuck and a sexy older woman to look at as well.
He looked up and caught Eammon Morgan's beady stare. Ben grinned and winked. "All right, Mister Morgan?" he asked, knowing that by playing the good guy would wind Melissa's father up all the more.
The man said nothing, just grunted, and Ben settled down to a daydream that featured his girlfriend and her mother.
On the first morning Julia woke up early. She boiled the kettle for her morning coffee and was sitting in one of the folding chairs, smoking an illicit cigarette, when Ben surprised her.
Shirtless, Julia was quick to notice, the young man, at a low trot, obviously having been out for a run in shorts and training shoes, jogged along the track leading into the campsite from the dune behind her.
After Ben had appeared so suddenly around the corner of the caravan, in the seconds before he noticed her, Julia took the opportunity to ogle the ridged outline of the man's abdomen, the plates of his muscled chest, those lovely arms and the long muscles of his thighs.
When the young man saw Julia sitting there his face split into a smile, a cheeky grin that sent a pulse of desire through the woman.
"Hello, Mrs Morgan," Ben began, making no effort to cover his torso. He was well aware of the effect he had on Julia, could see the hungry gleam in her eyes, and he thought it might be fun to give the old bird a bit of a thrill. Just tease her a little. "I didn't know you were a smoker."
Julia grimaced and, Ben noticed, threw a contemptuous glance towards the caravan. He assumed the look was meant for her husband, he'd noticed there didn't seem to be much communication between Melissa's parents. No touches or smiles, not much talking either now he came to think of it. A small voice spoke to Ben, a quiet word of warning from inside about being very careful with Julia. Teasing her with his physical appeal, flirting with her ... it could get out of hand if the woman got the wrong idea. Not that it bothered him too much, but it was early days with Melissa and he wanted to have some fun with her before his leave was up.
"Eammon disapproves." Julia took a drag and blew a viper's breath of thin blue smoke towards the blue morning sky. She rolled her eyes and added in a monotone, as though reading items from a very tedious list, "And I know it's bad for me, and I know it's anti-social and I'm a social pariah ... But I enjoy a cigarette with my morning coffee. I don't give a stuff what anyone says, I'm not hurting anyone but myself, so bugger the world."
Ben eyed the woman with new respect.
"Good for you, Mrs Morgan," he said, nodding. "I'm not a smoker myself, but like you said," he cast a look around the quiet site, no sign of life in any of the vans, "you're not hurting anyone."
Julia sipped from the cup before looking up at the tanned Adonis, offering, "Would you like a coffee, Ben -- before everyone else wakes up?" It was an innocent invitation but what she meant really was Please stay and let me look at your lovely body.
A glut of sexual arousal, thick and heavy, settled in the pit of Julia's stomach. Ben really was a spectacular animal. So bloody gorgeous.
Disappointing Julia, Ben replied, "No thanks, Mrs Morgan. I'd better get a shower before I cool down too much. Don't want to get a cold."
The croaked sentence was out there between them before Julia realised what she'd said.
"If you want anyone to wash your back..."
The woman's eyes widened when her own voce came back to her, wishing she could snatch back the words, thick, heavy bubbles from a throat swollen suddenly with desire.
Her fingers came up to her mouth.
"I'm sorry, Ben," she mumbled, horrified that she'd blurted such impropriety. But if she was so appalled, how come there was that insistent lub-lub between her legs?
In the few seconds before Ben replied, in the way those moments do, Julia's fantasy stretched out in front of her, a soft-focus image of her and Ben under a shower spray; not the tiny cubicle in the mobile home, but in some anonymous suite in a luxury hotel somewhere exotic: Barbados or Cuba.
Julia was soaping the man's broad back, savouring the springy texture of his abdomen when her arms encircled his body, her fingers moving lower to find the iron-hard length of his cock while his buttocks, taut and tiny, pressed against her.
She imagined Ben turning, his dark hair wet, rivulets of water pouring over his face while he grinned at her, one hand lifting her leg and, while she sat in the chair outside the caravan, Julia swallowed the real-life gasp that threatened to burst out of her when her fantasy body opened to accept the relentless invasion of Ben's erection.
In her mind they fucked with neither finesse nor regard for the other's needs. Their coupling, almost vicious in its clutching, gasping intensity, was more a desperate effort by Julia to achieve a long-awaited climax, a drive for pleasure that she hadn't experienced for so long.
Real-life came rushing back when Ben spoke.
"Don't be sorry, Mrs Morgan ... If it wasn't for Mel, and Mister Morgan I don't think I'd mind you doing that too much."
Those words and the breath upon which they were delivered sent a shiver along Julia's spine; she felt as though Ben's fingers had brushed her bare skin with a touch like a sigh. She felt her insides melt with warmth, the pulse blooming to a full-blown throb.
Strong emotions, the reawakening of a deep yearning for physical fulfilment, overwhelmed Julia. She stared at the man standing in front of her, and with her mind empty to thoughts of her husband and daughter, carried away with the desire to be touched by Ben's fingers, to feel his tongue sliding into her mouth, to taste him and savour the feeling of having him deep inside her, she mumbled, "Oh God, Ben, do you mean you want me to do that? Would you like me to wash your back ... under the shower? Both of us together?"
Knowing it was a stupid thing to do and with total disregard to that little voice telling him he was playing with fire, Ben still replied with, "I wouldn't mind that at all, Mrs Morgan." He let his eyes move over Julia's body, his tongue moving over his lips as he appreciated the swellings in the woman's tee-shirt. Ben paused, allowing his meaning to filter past Julia's surprised face and into her brain. When the flicker of understanding reached the woman's eyes he added, "As long as I get to wash your back, too." He hoped his expression conveyed the message that he would happily soap Julia's lush body all over, especially those big titties.
Julia blinked and allowed the cigarette to drop from her fingers. She looked down at the smouldering butt and, without really registering what she was doing, in an automatic action born out of habit, crushed it beneath the sole of her flip-flop. The chair creaked, its aluminium frame protesting as Julia rose to her feet.
"Are you playing with me?" the woman murmured, face questioning as she tilted her head to one side and looked into Ben's eyes.
"A little," Ben admitted, swallowing in guilty response to Julia's percipient question. He nodded and threw a furtive look at the caravan. "I mean, there's Melissa and Mister Morgan..." He grimaced when he saw Julia wince at the reminder of the realities, immediately regretting starting the game.
But the young man didn't find out what Julia intended to say next, not since the caravan door opened and Eammon's foot plonked onto the two-tier metal frame that served as steps below the door.
"Have you been smoking?" Eammon greeted Julia, his lip curling after he sniffed the air and eyed the flattened dog-end. He shifted his attention to Ben, eyes narrowing as he took in the man's bare torso and a flicker of jealousy soured in his guts.
While Eammon's mind dealt with the repugnant possibility that his daughter found the tanned oaf attractive, he missed the moment his wife took a step backwards with a decidedly guilty look on her face.