The Ripple Effect

As much as it embarrassed him to say so, he told her the truth. Adele told him it didn't matter; this would be her first time as well and she was sure they would manage.

Knelt between her open legs, she grabbed his cock and positioned it against her now open fanny. It took several attempts and initially she was exceedingly tight, but bit by bit, his cock slid into her cunt until his complete length was inside her. He stopped at that point, waiting until she said she was ready and then slowly he withdrew before sliding forward once more.

Leaning on outstretched arms, he rained kisses on her breasts and nipples, his cock now sliding in and out of her cunt with ease as Adele became vocal. Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled him deeper into her quim, masturbation was fun and full of pleasure, but it didn't compare to having her brother's cock inside her. To say that this was his first time, he was doing exceedingly well, keeping her finely balanced and her climax imminent.

'Cum inside me,' she pleaded as she pulled his face down and kissed him once more.

His hips gathered speed, Adele thought that he may split her open at one stage. And then she was climaxing, her body writhing beneath him as he continued to fuck her until she felt his cum explode inside her passage. She wanted to scream, to suddenly tell him she loved him, the sensations flooding her body and brain removed all of her inhibitions and magnified her emotions.

Neither of them remembered falling asleep, curled together as they slept. They were oblivious that Blanche had returned home, later than she had anticipated. She left the lights off as she tip-toed upstairs, opening Adele's bedroom door to check on her and surprised to find her bed empty. Silently she went across to Douglas's room and slowly turned the knob, opening the door slightly and putting her head around it.

She was stunned to find them both in the same bed fast asleep, she was going to leave them like that when she suddenly began to notice things. The first was that his curtains were open and that from the moonlight coming into the room she could see that neither of them appeared to be wearing their pyjama's, Adele's nightdress on the floor by the side of the bed. The second thing she noticed was the smell in the room, she knew it intimately, it smelt of sex.

Silently she moved into the room, standing on her sister's side of the bed. Gently she lifted the covers enough to see that Adele was naked, the young girl mumbling in her sleep and her hand resting on her brother's chest.

'Well fuck me. What have these two been up to?' Blanche wondered as she made her way around the other side of the bed.

Douglas was laid on his back, breathing deeply as he slept. Gingerly, Blanche lifted the covers until she could see his naked body. As her gaze moved from his face across his chest and then downwards, she stifled a gasp. He may be her little brother but what was presently flaccid and laying atop his belly definitely wasn't.

Lowing the covers, she shuffled silently from the room. There was no doubt in her mind now that her two siblings had been indulging in sex, her brother had been fucking her sister. She didn't have a clue what she was supposed to do. Did she say something to them? Did she wake them up and order them to their own beds or did she leave them as they were? Should she say something to her parents when they returned? She just knew that whatever she said to whoever, this was going to cause trouble.

Blanche found it hard to sleep that night, while in the other room her siblings slept soundly. Her brain kept going through options, but one was no better than any of the others. The other reason she was struggling to sleep was that the image of her brothers cock kept popping into her head, like a worm burrowing into her brain as she began to wonder what it looked like erect, momentarily jealous that her younger sister could answer that question far easier than she could.

By the time Blanche awoke the next morning and went to the bathroom her brother and sister were both back in their own beds which brought her dilemma up again. She was older and supposedly wiser but at this point, she hadn't got a clue how she should approach the situation. She shrugged her shoulders as she sat on the toilet and pissed, trust it to be her to find them she thought, why couldn't it be mum, she would have known intuitively what to do.

The idea of the two days away for Susan and her husband was to try and put some romance back into their marriage, unfortunately, it hadn't worked. Whilst they had not argued, it hadn't brought them any closer together either. She was convinced that her husband was having an affair but with no proof, she couldn't say anything When they had first married, he couldn't keep his hands off her, nowadays she was lucky if he touched her once a month and even then, it was over before she had attained any real satisfaction.

And then they were home and back in the same routine. 'Everything ok?' she asked Blanche.

Her daughter at first had looked like she wanted to say something but had then just smiled and said all was fine, there had been no problems.

Blanche couldn't bring herself to say anything, not to her mother and not to her brother or sister. Perhaps if she ignored what she knew, it would fizzle out of its own accord.

Douglas and Adele had no idea anyone knew their secret and anyway as it was, with people in the house there were only occasional opportunities to repeat it.

As autumn became winter Douglas suddenly developed a temperature. It started as a racking cough but bit by bit his temperature went up. His mother was concerned when she found him one morning covered in sweat and called out the doctor. He was diagnosed with influenza and was prescribed antibiotics, the doctor telling her to keep her son away from college and away from others at home as he would be infectious.

Infectious or not, Susan was not going to abandon him. That night she stayed in his room, constantly wiping his face and forehead with a cool damp cloth. He was like that the next night, drifting in and out of consciousness all the time. Each night Susan stayed in his room, trying to keep him cool as sweat poured from his body. She was exhausted and when he seemed settled, she climbed into bed next to him. His was only a single bed and with the two of them in it, there wasn't a lot of room, but she was too tired to bother and quickly fell asleep.

Douglas was delirious, convinced that Adele was in bed with him. Her nightdress must have ridden up as she slept because when he placed his hand on her belly, he felt bare flesh. He turned partially, his hand travelling upwards over her stomach and ribs until he eventually reached her breasts. He couldn't remember them being this full last time, but he wasn't going to complain as he gently massaged the soft smooth flesh, Adele whimpering in her sleep as he snuggled up against her and lost consciousness once more.

When he came to next, his hand still cupped her breast. Sliding it down her body, he headed for her groin, his erection feeling urgent as he thrust it against her thigh and rubbed. Adele also seemed to have more pubic hair than last time, his fingers lingering there as he played and then his hand was between her legs as she mumbled in her sleep once more.

He stroked his sister's fanny, playing and teasing as she continued to murmur quietly until she was wet enough for him to insert his finger.

When Susan suddenly awoke, her arousal was already peaking, she felt as randy as hell, quickly aware that her quim was being fingered. She was unable to stop herself from letting forth a groan and at first, imagined she was in her own bed and that her husband was touching her. By the time she remembered that she was in her son's bed, it was too late, the finger in her cunt causing her to orgasm as it continued to penetrate her flue.

She arched her back, her hips leaving the mattress as her climax consumed her, her head twisting one way and then the other as her nerve endings jangled and pleasure surged through her body.

When the hand finally stopped and she had got some semblance of control over her breathing, she slid away from her son and out of the bed. He seemed to be sound asleep, unaware of what he had just done to her, the covers pushed down by either him or herself as she'd climaxed. She didn't want to put the light on and disturb him, instead, she went and opened the curtains a little, letting the moonlight into the room.

Sitting in the chair next to his bed, she couldn't help but stare at his groin, his erect cock had forced its way out of the fly hole in his pyjamas and jerked sporadically. Susan had to stop herself from reaching out and touching it as her body recovered, her fanny still retaining its desires as she got the damp cloth and bathed her son's forehead.

He seemed to be talking nonsense to someone in his sleep and she shook him gently, trying to wake him up but he was well and truly out of it. The idea slowly crept into her head despite her attempts to thrust it away. What she was thinking was disgusting, her son was ill, and she was having revolting thoughts. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not forget what he had just done to her, her body having gone without for so long was now demanding more.

When she touched his shaft, it was still rock hard, and she withdrew her hand swiftly as it jerked again and made her jump. Cautiously, she wrapped her fingers around his meat, feeling it hot and throbbing in her hand as she slid the skin down and then up again, Douglas muttering to himself.

Taking a deep breath, she eased him more onto his back and into the middle of the bed as she straddled his hips and raised her nightdress. Gripping his cock, she raised herself, positioned it against her cunt and then lowered her body, unable to stop the gasp as it filled her passage.

It wasn't ideal nor what she would have liked, but Susan couldn't stop herself as she rocked back and forth on his shaft, Douglas unresponsive and immobile beneath her. She was amazed at how great it felt to have a cock inside her once more. Even though her son continued to talk gibberish, he did not attempt to complain or touch her.

She hung her head, her hair covering her face as she panted for breath. Her climax was so close, and she would make it provided her son's shaft continued in its present ridged state.

Susan only heard one utterance that sounded semi-coherent, but that was as she climaxed, grinding her fanny against his pelvis. The solitary sound came as her son's head whipped back and he grunted several times, his cock jerking inside her passage as he released a torrent of sperm which splashed hard against her cervix, prolonging her orgasm.

He seemed settled, his breathing sounding easier as she decided she would go back to her own bed at last. As she pulled the covers over herself, her body felt relaxed and sated, Susan, replaying the word she thought she had heard. The sound of her husband snoring annoyed her as she dismissed her thoughts, she hadn't exactly been compos mentis when she had heard it, convincing herself she had misheard, why would her son be calling his sisters name.

The next morning, she once again felt disgusted with herself. Checking on Douglas, she found him awake and although he told her he felt weak, he said he was feeling much better. He never did make any mention of that night and Susan just presumed that he had no memory of it.

Time passed, Douglas and Adele coming together infrequently but whenever an opportunity presented itself. Using the magazines as a reference, they tried different positions, some worked, some left them in a heap as they collapsed with laughter. Adele had given him a blowjob, he had kissed and licked her fanny, they had learnt together, both of them becoming more proficient with practice.

By the time their nineteenth birthday arrived, his sister had complimented him on being a considerate lover, but slowly their escapades began to diminish as they both started dating other people.

Susan's relationship with her husband hadn't gotten any better and she had reached the stage where she was considering leaving him. Blanche was engaged and it wouldn't be too long before she would probably be leaving home which would only leave the two younger ones, although they were not that young anymore.

Although a year had passed, she had not forgotten that night, she still felt disgusted when she brought it to mind, but at the same time, the experience had still excited her.

Douglas was in his room, the door locked as he retrieved another set of magazines, putting the old ones to the bottom of the pile. He had leafed through the first one, mentally making a note of the models he would need to return to when the opportunity arose. He retrieved the second one from down the side of his bed and opened the cover, his mouth dropping open as he stared at the first page.

It wasn't the model he was looking at; it was the proper photograph that rested on top of that first page that held his attention. The woman must have been fifteen or twenty years younger, but there was no mistaking who it was, it was a photo of his mum dressed in bra, panties, and stockings. Douglas couldn't believe his luck and thanked whichever god he believed in. Lifting the photo from the page, he studied it carefully. It was definitely his mum and she looked bloody fit, his cock automatically showing its appreciation for her figure. He placed it reverently to one side, there was no way that it was going back inside the magazine, he already knew that he would be masturbating to her image tonight.

When he turned the page, he was astonished to see that there was another one. This time she had her back to the camera and was looking over her shoulder at the lens, her bra unfastened. Placing it on top of the first, his trembling fingers turned to the next page. The next photo had her facing the camera, her hands partially covering her breasts. With bated breath, he turned the page again, another photo, still facing the camera, her hands on her hips and her tits jutting proudly from her chest.

Douglas was sweating, the throbbing of his cock unbearable, he desperately needed to wank. His hand visibly shook as he placed the photo on the growing pile and turned the page again. She had turned away from the camera again, but this time her panties had disappeared.

He was praying they continued as he turned another page. 'Yesss!' The camera had caught her naked and full-frontal, displaying her gorgeous charms. He rushed through each page now, finding pictures of her cupping her breasts, laid on a bed, her legs open. The last picture had her sitting against the bed head, it was easy to see from the look on her face that she was excited, her legs were open wide, and she had several fingers jammed in her fanny.

Douglas couldn't wait as he unzipped his pants and pushed them down, releasing his shaft. It took him moments only as his hand flew to his cock, pumping the flesh rapidly, his eyes staring fixedly at the picture of his mother pleasing herself as the cum blasted from his knob, nearly hitting him in the face.

Decent again, he tucked the magazine beneath his mattress, the photo's he placed in an inside pocket of a jacket he seldom wore in his wardrobe. In his rush to clear everything away, he had missed one of the pictures which had managed to slide beneath his set of bedside drawers and there it stayed for the present.

Months passed, Douglas retrieving the photo's regularly as he fantasised and wanked to his mother's image, his mind full of all the things he would like to do to her. As summer approached, he and Adele had found an opportunity and despite their other relationships, had spent an afternoon fucking each other.

The magazines were presently forgotten, there were still a couple beneath his mattress, but Douglas couldn't remember the last time he had looked at them, his mother's pictures getting his full-time attention nowadays as he fervently wished that somehow, he could make it a reality. He recognised it for what it was, he knew it was never going to happen, but that didn't stop him from dreaming.

It was that time of year when Susan would work her way around the house giving each room a deep clean. Furniture was moved, windows were cleaned, the woodwork was wiped down and carpets were hoovered to within an inch of their life. She had already done two of the bedrooms and today it was the turn of her son's. He had been refused entry and told to go elsewhere for the day as she set to in earnest.

When she moved the small chest of drawers next to his bed, she immediately spotted the oblong piece of white paper beneath it. Bending to pick it up, she realised it was a photograph as she turned it over and got the shock of her life. She was looking at a picture of herself taken many years ago wearing nothing but her undies and stockings.

She was shocked, firstly because she hadn't seen it in years, having forgotten all about it, and secondly, on how it had come to be under the set of drawers in her son's bedroom.

Sitting on his bed, her mind drifted back, she would have been in her early twenties, and this was one of about a dozen pictures her husband had taken back then, some of them very risqué. Besides wondering how it had got into Douglas's room, she also wondered where the rest of them were, starting to worry that her son may have viewed them.

As she cleaned, she hunted, going through drawers and cupboards, checking under piles of clothes in case he had hidden them. She went through his wardrobe, checking in pockets, even the inside pockets of his jackets but at the end of it all, although the room was spick and span she had not found any more photo's.

It was mid-afternoon by the time she had finished cleaning, sitting on his bed as she stared at the picture of herself. She remembered that day when her towel had slipped and how he had looked at her before bolting. She remembered the night when she had lost her self-control and had mounted him while he had been comatose.

'Just the bed linen to change,' she told herself, thrusting other thoughts to one side as she took the photo to her bedroom and hid it.

She had already stripped the bed and decided to turn the mattress, discovering the magazine beneath it as she flipped it over. The house seemed deathly quiet as she began to thumb through it, in a way shocked to find that instead of the young models she was expecting, it was full of middle-aged women no different than herself.

Whilst she wasn't surprised that he was looking at these kinds of top-shelf magazines, she was surprised to find that he had picked more mature women to look at.

Did she say something, or just replace it and pretend it hadn't been found? The more she pondered, the more she began to wonder if he had been as out of it as she presumed that night. Although his eyes had never opened and he had moved very little, had he known it was her, had he been conscious when she mounted him, had he kept it secret all this time, the fact that his mother had shagged him?

Susan was having a cold sweat; did she ask him about the photograph and why he had it? The more she thought about it, the more fearful she got, her hands shaking and her mind in turmoil.

She made his bed with fresh linen and replaced the magazine, collecting up her brushes and dusters and closing his bedroom door behind her.

When summer did finally come around, she was going through mental anguish each day, imaging all sorts of scenarios, convinced by now that her son knew exactly what she had done and was waiting his moment to tell her husband. Which was why she came up with a plan. It wasn't a bad plan, but then neither was it a good one. It would work more on luck than on any divine providence that she could control. It made her nervous, thinking about it, but then so did the thought of confronting her son.