Our Dad’s College Deal. Bk. 01

Everyone in this tale of incest is 18+.

Our Dad's College Deal. Book 1.

How does one start a twisted tale, By being twisted, maybe? My fraternal twin and I turned nineteen in the last month of school. It was a Wednesday, and we were planning a beach party around our pool by Friday after school to start the summer of 2012. With any luck, Dad will get called out of town for work, and maybe Mom will get drunk again. After that, I could talk my girlfriend into coming over to play Spin the Bottle with my hot Sister, Doctor was fun, but it was time for more grown-up games.

I need to fill in the portrait of our happy little nuthouse of a family. My Mom is Bridget Joy Bogart; she was a Vegas showgirl working her way through college back in the day. A forty-two-year-old with stunning golden blond hair standing six foot flat and curvy one hundred thirty-two pounds meant it was often hard to talk to her, even as her son, or maybe harder. I know parts of me are harder, man what a pervert I can be.

Being as sexy as a centerfold, there were rumors, but we've not seen photos; Dad called her arm candy any and every chance that came up. Being built with 38-34-36 DD meant she could have been one. Our Mom was always quiet when Dad was near, nor did she ever talk about her world before Dad. Her brown eyes had questions in them always.

Our sixty-two-year-old Silver Fox Dad, David Allen Bogart, his silver hair came in ten years ago, or he stopped dying his hair one or the other. He stood six feet without shoes, but he had lifts in his shoes with high heels. Mom was never in high heels; she was always in flats, Dad's ego. Dad had blue eyes; he gave them to my Sister and me.

Now I'm older by ten minutes, so I get to go first, Dan Allen Bogart standing six foot four, two hundred five pounds, way too soft, blue eyes, long blond hair mainly in a ponytail. I'm smarter than I am stronger neither my Sister nor I have ever been allowed to play sports at our private school. I often wonder why if our Dad had a hand in that. So I had to cheat and forge my Dad's signature on a permission slip to learn to swim in gym class. At least I could work out in the school gym.

My Sister Bobbie Joy Bogart is a touch shorter than I; she stood six foot two when you stood straight, with stunning long red hair, one hundred and thirty-eight pounds, and piercing blue eyes.

With a stunning figure of 38-34-36, dd meant she could be a showgirl too, a fact our Dad has been harping about nonstop for most of the last year its quite frankly was getting too weird for words. I mean, whose Dad tells their daughter at the dinner table with just the right-sized pasties, will she look like your Mom in her showgirl days?

How does a nineteen-year-old kid play doctor in today's world? So video face time or sexting on my phone would work? So it would be no big deal that three girlfriends and I played together, but not all at once.

A Pro-guard-dog watch phone application caught us; Mom grounded me when I refused to keep sexting with my Mom. OK long story, but let's see if I can keep it short.

I would be sexting my long-time girlfriend, Ginger. I thought we were safe phones are safe, right? I told her what to do and how to where; it made her jello that we came like freight trains, hard, fast, and on time. She would turn it around on me, telling me how or what. It was hard not wanting to be on the phone 24/7. Then Ginger told her best friends about this, and I was sexting with three and face-time live with two more talking about hot.

I won't find out who the third was till the nanny cam incident, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I got a text near eight am I did not look at the number first. I mean, would you if you got this text? "Fuck me woke up wet and empty my clit is lonely, throbbing for your touch, baby. Will you suck my hard nipples and squeeze my tits? Danny, will you?"

I texted back without thinking. "Hell yes, I slide my hot hard seven-inch cock between your legs, letting it slide across your wet slit slapping it on your clit, spanking it with you as your wet pussy opens for me. Then, I slide my hot cock through your lips, rubbing your clit the whole stroke. As I bit your hard nipple pulling with my teeth."

Wait, wait, wait, Danny, nobody fucking calls me that, but Mom, my Mom calls me that when Dad is not around. I got another sext just as hot, but now I'm worriedly texting my Mom; what the fuck?

I look at the number Fuck it's Mom's number. "Can I suck your big cock, big boy? I love how it leans a little left, and your head is so purple when you hard that dark purple vein stands out like a lightning bolt." The text read.

My girlfriend has not seen my cock yet, hard or otherwise. I know two things one, it has to be Mom. It's her number, and two, my Mom and Sister are the only two people who have ever seen my cock. Shit, could it be my Sister? Wait, who has seen me hard? Not my Sister's shit; my Mom did. She walked in on me one morning as I worked on my hard morning wood. Now how do I answer if this is a trap? It has to be. I text back. "I heard noises. I got to run. Don't want to get caught, sorry."

I changed the text ringtone on moms number so I will know if she sends another text. I text my Sister. "Is Mom up? Getting a weird text from Mom's phone, or did you steal her phone and you're sexting me, you a-hole."

Bobbie texts back. "Nope, Mom looks mad as hell just walked into the kitchen at the island. She's texting someone; glad her mad was not at me. I am eating my cereal. Your toast, bro. Wait, Mom is sexting you?"

"Talk in person. I saw an app on my phone and found it in a folder that said, " Other apps, better look." I sent.

Well, I missed thirty texts; they started mad, and yes, they are from Mom. The last ones were angry, and unless I'm sexting back with a video of me stroking till I come for Mom or I'm grounded for a month and no phone use or being able to go to the prom at school. No way, this is not a trap. I waited all day for the other shoe to drop, but Dad never said anything. Finally, Mom grounded me at dinner, Dad did not even ask why, but I wondered.

So like that, I lost my phone again for a month, and sexting/face-time on our phones became dead. I still had a laptop, but it had some kid-ware app watching it reporting to Mom. So telling my Sister was there was the right move. She set my computer up with a partition on the hard drive and hooked up our own router and internet hook up, leaving nothing for the kid app to see.

Ginger stopped by a few days a week to study with Bobbie and to flirt with me. One night she gave me a teddy bear and put it on the stairs, pointing at the living room. It was cute as fuck; you gave me a link to go to look at as we sat at the dining room table studying. Ginger sent me the link on FaceTime, and I clicked on it on my laptop, and I saw the living room and my Mom doing yoga, and Ginger winked at me and says. "Ten pm, sexy baby"

Nanny Cam sexting was born that night with no texting but talking to the Cam, and with the app, we can talk and tell each other what we need to do as we watch, no phone required. It was way past messy on my part. It took a large towel to clean up after my first of three comes that first night.

I got a message about a week later from Ginger that said to swipe right on the video feeds now, and it moves to others who are in on the Nanny Cam Roulette.

Some dozen girls and two guys, including me, show their faces or others their tits, some just their pussy. One night after coming twice already, two want-to-play girls still seemed to be able to keep coming long after I was able to cum one last time. Four in a row was hard coming, no pun intended. I noticed a mole that was on my Sister's tummy above her pussy. We used to bathe together as kids, and well, you must know it's my cock your rubbing your pussy to, not another that looks like mine, a minor congenital disability. I know you know what I look like.

Swiping right, I get Ginger again and send a text with the app on the laptop. I ask. "I'll Show you my cock if you tell me why you got my sis in on this, Ginger."

Ginger sent it back. "You show your cock anyway, but you are slow. She happens to want you; we talked no one has ever made her feel safe. She watched me play with you sexting. We played touching ourselves; she wanted this, she wants you. Weird as hell, but I know love when I see it, Dan. And I watch you as she is in the room. You look hungry. I thought it was for my Fur-burger, but now I am smart enough to know you care for us both. We will have a fun night together one day, but we might die. It will be so good now stroke your big cock for me and tell me what you would do with your hard cock to me, baby, as I make my hard clit come."

Ginger moans and comes; she shows me her sticky wet fingers, man, that's a lot of girl juice, as you say. "Thank you, baby, and kiss your sis for me; now make her come too."

I swipe four times till I get back to Bobbie. Does it look like you have not been touching your self why not?

"Bobbie baby, you're not playing; how come?" I asked in my text.

You logged off. I thought you freaked out when saying your name, and we were called to dinner a few seconds later. The sun was still shining as it was late May. Dad is reading a folder it has our school records. He is not talking, but Mom is going on about the cost of college, and we did not get offered scholarships.

Mom mentions. "They talked to POP-POP before he died, and his estate will be used as a lottery to pay for our grades and the cost of having us."

That was not weird at all Mom has no guile; it's clear she is saying this because Dad ordered her to.

"Pay?" I mouthed at you, Bobbie, you to have a question also it shows on your face, but we both are way too smart to ask where Dad can hear we hold them till later. We grabbed books and sat outside. It was a lovely day watching the sunset, and we talked as we looked like we were hitting the books.

Bobbie starts. "I don't want to rub one out with any guy, just you; no one else touched my naked body for nine months. Just your hand on my arm is so calming."

I glance at the side windows and, not seeing anyone there watching us; I ask if I may kiss you. You shake your head no, but you look to the pool pump shed. We go out, and you clean the skimmer; as I clean out the filter at the pump, you touch my back. I turn to you. We kiss; it reconnects us, and I hold onto your arm as you take my hand in yours.

Shaking, you say. "I thought we cum a few times before you caught me, and you would not want to stop; then maybe we could touch."

"Hon, I see you naked when I close my eyes; you make me hard, baby, and we've not started yet, and I don't want to stop, but I played four times today with Ginger and Jodie. I'm not sure I have another in me, baby, but I'm happy to help anytime fingers or just dirty talk. I'm game either way." I whispered.

Mom came out as we got the leaves with a net and told us. "Dad wants to go to bed, so we had to go inside and turn the alarm on."

That was our life every day; Dad comes first. As always, we picked up our books and went to the kitchen to snack and study, and Mom sent us to our rooms at nine pm. About thirty minutes later, I get a Nanny Cam notice of a text message from Bobbie. "Dad just left; he hinted that if I played ball with him, our college would be paid for, baby; weird, huh? He gave me what he thought was a hot wet kiss. What the fuck, dude? Just taking a kiss, not even asking; it was not sweet and sexy like yours was. What the fuck, dude, talk about killing a mood, Sorry, night, brother, see you at breakfast."

I text answered you back. "Good night, Sis. I have a meeting with the guidance counselors at school first, so I will take my Jeep in early. You're welcome to ride with me if you don't mind getting there a half hour early."

Bobbie says. "Good night, but she have mom to take her to school."

Bobbie and I got home from school later that day, grabbed an apple, and started reading the books. I had planned on talking to you about the weird vibes from our folks and my trouble at school.

Mom got home with her Sister in law our Aunt, and they were day drinking. They went to Mom's room, asked Bobbie to come up, and talked. Dinner came and went. I made a bowl of soup and a sandwich wondering where Dad was.

Bobbie left her phone out. I wanted to see if my Sister sent my dick pic to my English teacher to get me busted and kicked out of prom; I got twenty hours of detention today. It was the reason for the damn meeting hell; it would mean I had more hours in detention than in classes left for the school year.

I did not find any record of you sending the photo, nor was there one on my phone, as my Mom has had my phone for a month now since the sexting thing.

There is no way my Mom could be the one sending out the dick picks, could she? As if I was checking image files on my Sister's phone, I found a spyware app. I searched for it on the Internet. It's a keystroke logger listing who, when, where, and the website. Your phone is immaculate no trace of our playing. I excepted to see the Nanny Cam app listed, but it's not even there. I make a note to tell Bobbie about the spyware.

Coming out of Mom's room drunk, you could not walk. So I had to pick you up in the hallway and get you to bed. Bobbie grabs my arm and says. "Hi, her Mom and Hi, her Aunty me; got so drunk and pulled my pants down to see if am I was still a am am virgin, Aunty wanted to see how hard I could come come, and Mom said something about a contract, not being signed yetNpt not ure sure what that meant night night by bye."

Bobbie passed out. I removed your shoes and socks, undid your bra, opened your pants, and took them off you. I pulled the cover over you and laid on top, and held you.

I fell asleep and was woken up getting hit in the head repeatedly. My eyes opened, and its a very drunk and angry Mom driving me back to my room and hitting me with a shoe. She locked my door and pushed a linen cabinet on the door, keeping me in the room.

Mom returned to her room, and I ran downstairs through Bobbie's Jack and Jill's bathroom and out her door. I pack snacks and drinks and take them back to my room. I go back and check on you; I lock her bedroom door. I stayed on the floor, touching you when you moaned. You sat up and tossed your cookies into the trashcan I held as I kept your hair out of your face. I wash your face off, I made you drink water, and you tossed more water, and you tossed it up, and you drank more, and the water stayed down this time.

I leave for my room when I hear your door knob rattling and cuss words. Your lock has broken on its own four times in the last month alone. I ask in a loud voice. "That you, Mom, Bobbie's throwing up sick as a horse. What the hell y'all do?"

Whoever was at the door stumbled away without talking; I returned to my room an hour later, and there was no repeat of the door. Saturday was shiny and new, but you were so hung over.

I stayed in my room during breakfast and lunch; by dinner time, I was getting yelled at because I skipped eating. I moved the furniture over my door, keeping Mom out of her words. Bobbie looked at me with a question; why? Mom gave me my phone back two weeks early. I expect it's a trap; the phone now has two trackers.

Bobbie sent me a text. "Asking if I had the English literature homework you left yours at school."

I go next door, stand next to you, and text. "I'll bring it over in a few." I turn your old CD player on, and the old School CD of The Police starts playing.

I started talking; we read lips; we faced each other, speaking too low to hear. "You got a key logger app on your phone. Someone raddled your door last night. I think they thought the lock was still broken, I acted like it was Mom at the door and you were tossing up cookies they left, but it sounded like Dad walking." I say.

Bobbie says. "I know about the phone. I use my tablet; let me see your laptop."

In twenty minutes, you hand it back to me, telling me. "Whoever put the key loggers on our things knows how twisted my brother is now, dude fucking clear your history; sometimes mom does daughter and son porn?" Bobbie sighs.

I say. "Wow, we are kind of kept on a short leash. Is it Mom doing or Dad?"

After dinner without Dad, he was out of town for work.

A few days later, my Mom texted me. "Come to the spare bedroom and give her a message now."

I texted back. "Dad has me moving boxes at his office to storage and will return before noon. Dad said he is golfing with Uncle Bob's Mom; he told me he won't be home till after dinner."

Ginger texts me, and you ask. "If I had our English homework?"

I asked. "Could I call you back from a landline, give you the last four numbers, and call you back?

We are talking on a landline. I say. "Ginger, we have spyware on our phones and told you how to look by looking at loaded and hidden apps."

Ginger says. "I find nothing on mine other than a GPS app my mom put on it."

A few times we played Nanny Cam Roulette, Bobbie was not on. I found it odd that when Ginger asked for Cam play, we lost internet service in the house every time Bobbie logged on. Eight out of eight times was a clue.

We talked at school, and everyone in the circle was getting unexplained heat, and we should stay offline till we find the cause. Too many questions and not enough answers until Mom talked me into giving her backrubs. After a few months of simple back rubs, things got hot.

I woke in bed to the smell of hot coffee from my coffee maker and the alert sound of a text message with a dumb row of text emoji smiley faces with big eyes from Mom saying. "Your Sister went to get her hair done for the pool party tonight; she won't be home for hours and would love one of your special back rubs. We won't have to stop this time. Dad called away for work and won't be home till Monday next week wink, wink."

Great, another one of her take her sexy clothes off. I give a hot back rub, leaving me hard as a rock. So it will be that kind of night. Great more looking forward to a date with Mr. Hand and his five daughters. Maybe I can get my girlfriend to come over to the pool party.

The only time Mom stopped me, my hand was massaging moms ass through her wet panties. Mom moaned and stopped me by grabbing my hand. We heard the garage door open Bobbie or Dad would be bad; getting caught is getting caught.

We went to our rooms, never to speak again of it that was two back rubs ago. Then, finally, I get to the spare bedroom where a professional massage table has been set up, as is a tray of heated oils and scented candles burning; the smells of the hot jungle are sticky sweet, and oddly arousing.

Bridgett, my sexy Mom, is face down on the massage table. Are you naked under your sheet, Mom? That's slutty of you? It's not thick like a towel. You wore a thick towel and panties in the last dozen or so massages. You took off your top and would lay down, giving me a little show of side boob.

I see nothing on your round ass under the sheet. My hands shake, but a bit of oil is on my hands, and I pull your cover down some to get to your neck and shoulders.

The fine golden hairs on your back stand on end, and my simple touch on your neck spreads goosebumps down your back like ripples in still water. So was that your moan to my squeeze as my oiled hands pressed your shoulders into the padding on the table?

My hands kneed and pinch your neck, moving slowly from arm to arm, doing your back rubbing up and down your spine. You moan again, but now you're moving your hips like they need something terrible, and the sheet slides off you, making me gasp.