The Brown Family Way

I was playing the long game, but seeing Macy only once every six weeks or so made that kind of a necessity. Still, we were exploring our kinks whenever we got the chance. Twice we did it at her bare apartment in Reston. Once, we actually did do it against a tree in the National Forest on a chilly, sunny January day - her going commando with thigh-high socks and me in sweats so she could just lean against the rough bark and I could pull down and plug in from behind. That was our warm-up that day, getting sweaty while icy tendrils of air teased our slick union.

Macy liked pretending her sister, Katie, was our student. And I hinted about my teachers whenever Macy wondered how I got so good and so confident so young. She consistently liked being overpowered as my mother did and she sent me links to vids from Kink and Hogtied and such sites. She said they got her in the mood. They definitely got me in the mood, but I got to live the fantasy often at home.

February birthdays might be the dreariest in Virginia. It's still dark and cold and damp outside. There's some Christmas hangover so folks are partied out. My parents were careful not to 'spoil' their only child so my presents weren't ever too indulgent. In fact, I was made to understand that a good birthday was a reward for a good year of maturing toward manhood. So it was a celebration, but not for just showing up. I had to earn it. In fact this year, my twenty-first birthday, I was made full partner in Robert Brown and Son over a fine meal at Fogo De Chao, the Brazilian steakhouse. It was as much about the future as the past.

Macy's gift to me was herself, bound naked in her living room, to do with as I pleased. An entirely different kind of birthday present than I was used to. Then she gave me the video she'd taken of us that evening. You know I had to show it to my parents ASAP.

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With a light dusting of snow on Brown's mountain from the night before, dad, mom and I sprawled on the couch with a good fire going.

"I want to show you my birthday present from Macy," I pulled up the video link on my phone and tapped the 'cast' icon. The TV showed the title card that said Happy Birthday. I paused it. "It's a sex tape."

"Oh, my!" my mother put her hand to her mouth, "We haven't tried that yet."

"Because it's risky," my father looked concerned, "Remember the Brown reputation, Grant."

"I didn't know she was filming, if that helps. But she assures me the file's on a secure server."

"According to her..."

"You want to see it or not?" I had thought this was going to be cool.

"Listen, Grant," dad wouldn't keep calling me Grant if he wasn't at least a little angry, "You don't have any control of that file and that worries me."

"Sorry?"

"Have you thought this all the way through?"

"What, the sex tape?"

"That and any idea of bringing the woman into our, um, secret life."

Mom piped up, "Can we call it the Brown Family Way? I think that's simple and vague enough."

Dad ignored her, "I mean, think it all the way through. Like what happens if finding out you have sex with your parents freaks the woman out and she talks to someone?"

"She has no idea," I said firmly, "about that yet."

"Yet? You sound like you'd like to tell her."

"Well, look at this tape and tell me she's not a good candidate. I've told you almost everything we've done and said to each other."

"But," sighed dad, "you can't predict her reaction one hundred percent."

"How about ninety-nine percent?"

"How about if your one percent chance means you have to insure she keeps the secret even if she doesn't want to play?"

"Oh, Bob!" blurted my mother.

"Yes, Grant, you may have to silence her. I mean, you have her life in your hands."

I took a deep breath..."Are you saying I would need to kill her to keep her quiet?"

"Think. It. All. The. Way. Through, son."

We were all silent for a long time. Up to then I'd liked the idea of my parents watching. I didn't think this sharing of the video was a concern, though. It was like researching a job candidate only with much higher stakes. Besides, Macy hadn't asked my permission to be filmed, either, so it seemed fair. But this reminded me of our contract: my parents were to teach me to be a fully grown man and I was to take responsibility as soon as I was able. It had been framed on my bedroom wall since I was twelve. Now I was twenty-one, a full partner in the company and the bedroom. I guess I had to take life and death responsibilities seriously. But could I imagine killing the woman I'd been getting more and more attracted to over these months?

"Maybe I should make some popcorn?" Mom made to get up.

"No," said dad firmly and put a hand on her arm. "Grant, we'll watch the video, but you're not to go further with the woman until we've talked more."

"I hear you," I assented, unhappy.

I pressed play.

There was the dark title card saying Happy Birthday! Then a fade in from black to a side-on view of a softly but clearly lit Macy naked on her hands and knees, tied to a board with red ribbons. I recognized her living room, the messy bookcase, the art, all hazy in the background. Her ankles were bound too, and she teethed a red gag clamped between her teeth. The board was stained dark walnut and well polished. The scene shifted to a three-quarter view of her angular rump, her pussy shiny, a smear of her juices on her thigh. In her ass a shiny silver butt plug glimmered.

"Oh, she's very cute," mom whispered, squeezing my hand.

I pressed pause to let my parents appreciate the image.

"This is the cool thing, dad," I illustrated with my hands, "She drew up the plans for this restraint herself and had someone in her production company cut and assemble it."

"Looks pretty simple," said mom.

"Yeah, it's elegant, really," I couldn't hide my respect for what she'd done, "See it's just a four by four sheet of half-inch birch plywood with some three-quarter inch squares on the bottom to raise it off the floor. There's a pair of parallel twelve-inch slots a foot apart in the center and a pair of four-inch slots on one edge that align with those."

Dad leaned in to look closer, "Are those ribbons tied around her calves at her knees?"

"Yeah, and the smartest detail is how she was able to design it so she could tie herself up and not be able to get loose."

"How does that work?" my mother chuckled, "I might want one, too."

"She tied her ankles together first, then she knelt on the board and tied that long ribbon, the one that passed under the board through those long slots in the middle, around her knees. She gagged herself, then she used a loop of narrow ribbon slipped over itself at each end to hold her wrists. But the best, most elegantly simple part is that by pulling that ribbon under the board between the two short slots at the edge she engaged two carabiners bolted underneath to keep her from being able to slide the ribbon back out again. With her hands tight to the board she couldn't untie anything."

"Looks like she can still be either on hands and knees or with her shoulders down on the ground."

"Yeah, and it doesn't prevent her from pushing back when she wants to, either."

"So," asked dad, "she tied herself up when she was alone and waited for you to come by?"

"She liked the thrill of being found by almost anyone. The door was unlocked."

"OK, Grant, hit play again."

Over the tied woman we watched an out-of-focus me close the door and slowly walk to pick up a red envelope. The gagged Macy was watching me, too, silent. I read the card out loud: Dear Grant, I don't often give birthday presents to my lovers, but you're different. I know you'll enjoy using me as your birthday fuck-toy. And I'll enjoy it, too!

I'd have been more self-conscious if I'd known I was being filmed, but considering that, I felt pretty good about how I carried myself. Kneeling to run my hands along her body, first brushing the hair from her forehead and planting a kiss there, I passed one hand along her back and one along her front side, pausing to rub her hard nipples. The camera angle switched to a third spot aimed at her head from the other side. I tested her slit with a finger, pulling my digit back shiny, running it under her nose and wiping it on her lips.

"You know," said my father, "with those nipple rings you could hang some weights on there, too."

"Oh, Bob, you're making me wet my panties again," whispered my mother, reaching to unzip his chinos.

On the screen I rose and stood in front of Macy, slowly stripping. I made a little show of it, not speaking. The camera didn't catch all of my act, but it got Macy's look of longing and anticipation. She'd done a good job of editing the three cameras together. She even added a soundtrack, something orchestral building slowly in the background.

Beside me mom had got dad's cock out and it stood proud. She reached over and unzipped me, too. She watched with a hard cock in each hand, stroking slowly. On screen I dropped my last garment and knelt in front of Macy, my video cock also hard and straining. I put a finger to my lips. Don't speak, I said and gently removed the gag, letting it hang from her neck. The camera angle nicely framed her face and my cock and their inevitable merger.

I put a hand on the back of her head, got a handful of hair and pulled her forward until my tip touched her lips, holding her just at the point of insertion. I waited to let my pulsing cock ooze a drop, then grasped it and wiped it across her mouth. Macy licked her lips and smiled. She whimpered and strained forward but I held her still.

I re-inserted the gag and tightened it, stood up and made a slow circuit of her body. Macy groaned. The side-on camera had a good view, then we were looking at the woman's ass. I knelt and sniffed at her sex. I rubbed at the smear on her thigh and brought a finger to her opening. I teased at it and brought a wet finger to my mouth.

"She tastes delicious, mom," I started popping the buttons on my mother's blouse, "like you, only different, more salty somehow." While she stroked me I pulled apart her clothing and ran my fingers under the edge of her lacy bra. "Get up and take your clothes off."

I paused the video where I was about press my face into Macy's sex. The woman had lowered her shoulders to the floor and presented her juicy twat to me. While dad and I ripped off our clothes, my mother quickly shucked her blouse and bra then bent to pull down her jeans, her heavy breasts swaying. I had to compare the two women then: both short, both frisky as hell, both petite and fit, one flat-chested, one buxom, one dark-haired, one light. It hadn't escaped me that Macy and Amy were very similar names, too. I don't think I needed Dr. Freud to make that connection, do you?

Mom got between us again and grabbed our poles. "Play!" she laughed.

On screen I began licking at Macy's puffy pudenda. We heard the wet smacking sounds of a woman being properly pleased and the rising pleasure in that woman's voice. Mom squirmed beside me and shot me a glance that said, that's what I've taught my boy so well...

In the video I knelt behind Macy mouthing her vulva and she pressed her hips back into my face, grinding slowly as she rose in arousal. My cock hung down dripping. In our living room mom bent and stretched her mouth over that same cock, also dripping, and hollowed her cheeks, slowly running her tongue around my glans.

I rose from eating Macy to reach around and pull loose her gag, saying, "I'd rather hear you talk dirty." Then I palmed my rod and brought my knob to her opening and levered downward, plunging into her wet, warm channel. Macy groaned and pressed back with enthusiasm.

"My mouth wants something in it, though," she panted, "This is when two cocks would be good." She hung her head, "When are you going to bring that guy you know with you and double-team me?"

Mom lifted her mouth from my pole and said, "She's right about that." Then she got on hands and knees between us on the couch and inhaled my knob again. Dad didn't need instruction. He got behind my mother and mimicked what I was doing to Macy on the screen. Our women were both gasping with pleasure, impaled and thrusting back on the organs splitting them. Mom couldn't talk, but Macy did.

"I want your dick doing just what it's doing now and this guy's dick smearing goo on my lips. He can only get his knob in my mouth, cause he's as big as you. But when you pound me like this it drives his cock past my molars." Macy groaned again, her cheek on the floor, ass in the air, pussy stretched full of me.

When dad drove into mom it had the same effect. Gradually her throat opened to take me and I felt every millimeter of advance as her lips slid inexorably down to nest in my pubes. I held her head down tight and felt mom's swallowing stroke me. She could last over a minute this way and was getting better with all the practice.

It occured to me that one way to silence Macy if she became a threat to our family was just like this - suffocation by cock. It didn't turn me on. But I didn't wilt, either. "Dad, let's switch," I said. I pulled my mother up by her ponytail and she gasped, spittle flying while my father and I changed ends.

After I pulled mom's ass cheeks apart and socketed myself in her my thoughts returned to simpler things. Just sinking my cock deep over and over while I watched myself do the same thing in Macy's clandestine video. Dad watched, too, and gave mom more breathing room. He sat back and let her bob on his knob at her leisure while she stole glances at the screen.

Watching myself fucking the girl for the second time, I felt proud. I felt confident. We looked damn good the way she'd filmed us with the soft light and the added rousing soundtrack. We looked skilled. We looked professional. We looked like we were genuinely enjoying the energy that passed between us. Somehow it was communicated that we really cared for each other and understood each other's bodies, that our intimacy was both physical and emotional. I was hoping that mom and dad would see that, too.

I remembered carefully pushing Macy to her release that day, using my stamina to slide in and out of her for a long, long time as her body reacted to the relentless and steady thrusting. The butt plug jammed in her ass each time I rammed it with my pubic bone.

Macy sighed, "I feel so full back there."

I kept the pace short of what would trigger my own release while she quivered through a building series of rippling orgasms and the soundtrack punctuated my puncturing of her.

Dad said to my mother as they watched me and my girlfriend on the screen, "Do you think I could be that guy she wants in her mouth, Amy?"

"You don't need to ask permission, Bob," she grunted as I pulled her rump tight to my thighs and held her there, feeling her insides clench. ''I'd like to watch in real life." Then she engulfed him again.

On the screen Macy and I got close and I took her at her word that she wanted to be my fucktoy. I planned to nail her at least three times that day, but for the first time I indulged a secret guilt - to end with a facial like so many porn videos do. She'd had a full measure of pleasure so far and so when I felt my own pleasure rising beyond my ability to control it I pulled my dripping pole from her and moved to her head.

I stood over the bound girl stroking slowly, aiming at her smiling face. Macy rested back on her hauches, wrists tight in the ribbons and hair plastered to her forehead. "Oh yeah, come on my face," she indulged me, grinning, "splatter me with your batter."

Hearing this dad got up on his knees in front of mom on the couch and took aim, too. My cock swelled to its fullest, ready to deliver my load deep into my mother. The soundtrack also swelled, driving to a crescendo. My mother grunted through a sudden orgasm, wriggling on me as I began driving hard.

Porn star Grant barked his climax and shot volleys of thick cream across Macy's cheeks, sticking in her hair, dripping onto her tongue from her lips, sagging from her chin to decorate her little tits.

Dad's cream coated my mother's face, too, and she laughed throatily as the icing got thick, then grabbed dad's cock and sucked out the last, gently and insistently as he wilted back to sit on the couch.

I exploded in my mother, holding her hips tight to me, feeling every bolt shoot the length of my cock and the hot slippery deposit I left in her. When I released her she fell forward and my spunk drained from her tortured red gash. I fell back to lie at my own end of the couch and mom nestled between dad's legs, cradling his spent member.

The screen faded to black, the room became silent and it was a long while before any of us spoke. The fire had settled to a pile of red embers in the grate.

"Grant,'' said my father, "do you think there's a way to double team this girl of yours without revealing more than she knows now?"

I warmed all over. My video ploy seemed to have worked.

*********