tagIncest/TabooTwo Pregnant Moms - and Sis?

Two Pregnant Moms - and Sis?


The following story, about 3 ½ Literotica pages long, explores the relationship that develops between an eighteen year old teen and his mom after his father marries a younger women. And how this teenager then becomes torn between two beautiful, competing women. Please enjoy. 2 Pregnant Moms....and sis?


1 -- Dad March 15th 2006

"I'm getting married again son," Dad said nervously, and then after a questioning glance into my eyes looked quickly away.

"WHAT?" I screeched, stunned at his words. Shit, I told myself, I should have known it was coming; he'd been dating that bitch Katrina for six months. And then today when he called me into his den and said he'd like to discuss something serious with me I should have guessed.

But I'd thought we were going to have a heart-to-heart about school...or maybe the summer job at his company...or even maybe a little discussion of my activities with my current girlfriend.

"But what about Mom?" I demanded.

"We're divorced son. Your Mom and I have to move on."

"Move on to fucking where? Christ dad, you're sixty-two. She's a girl," I accused.

"Billy, she's a university graduate. Twenty-three," Dad said softly, knowing how much his words had hurt me.

It had never really occurred to me that dad would remarry, especially to someone like Katrina. But given his history I shouldn't have been surprised. He'd always preferred young girls. He'd married for the first time at eighteen, a college freshman who knocked up his girlfriend in his second month on campus. Then married her, and over the next five years had somehow graduated with a degree in business and had three daughters while starting a company that supported them all.

At forty, with his youngest child, my half sister, seventeen, he'd simply walked out. Two years later he married mom, a sixteen year old high school junior. Neither mom nor dad had ever fully explained how they'd met and fallen in love but apparently they had.

My sister Chrissie was born a year later...then I, William Koury jr., Bill or Billy to everyone, his first son, came along another year later in November 1987. He'd stuck around until I was sixteen and then he left us. Actually he'd been a pretty good dad while he was there. But in leaving he'd broken my mom's heart. And this latest news wasn't going to help her any in getting it all back together.

For the last two years I'd been spending my time between two houses just over a mile apart, a week with mom followed by a week with dad. It had been a weird experience but for a horny teenager it had certain advantages. Like they both spoiled me. I had lots of spending money. Dad gave me a motorcycle and I had access to two cars.

And half of my friend's parents were divorced. Still, it had hurt. It still did. My sister had absolutely refused to live with dad, instead, for the first year she had simply visited him every second weekend or so. Now, a freshman at the University of Florida, she didn't even have to do that. It wasn't so much that she hated him, it was just that she wasn't prepared to do anything that would hurt mom anymore than she'd already been hurt.

Dad informed me the wedding was set for the first weekend in May. "That way Chrissie will be home from school," he said explaining his choice.

"That's only six weeks from now dad," I complained while thinking what the fuck does he care when his daughter finishes school, the chances of her coming were slim and none.

"She's leaving for Europe right after...it was the only weekend that fit," he said, then added, "I'm hoping you'll get her to come son. I know, I know," he said seeing my grimace, "but I'd sure appreciate it."

"I'll try dad," I promised, caught between my love for him and my love for my mom and sis.

2 - Katrina March 16th 2006

She knocked on my door the next morning ten minutes after dad had left for work.

"I know you're angry...maybe hate me," she started after venturing a few feet into the room.

"You got that right," I interrupted. "Breaking up marriages...fucking old men for their money," I accused my soon to be new step-mother.

"Liar. I never even knew your father until he'd left your mom."

"Christ, you're twenty-three. Can't you find somebody to pick on your own age?" Except the truth was that Katrina Molotov was about the hottest babe you could hope to find. And smart. She could have had anyone she wanted. And for some reason she'd chosen sixty-two year old dad. I'd had a hard-on for her since the day dad had brought her home and introduced her to me three months ago.

I'd even lain in bed stroking myself as she and dad went at it on the other side of the house. She was a screamer and even the supposed sound proof construction of dad's new house couldn't muffle Katrina's groans of pleasure as she writhed under his big prick. I'd even watched them once. Had watched them late one night, had stood in the darkened hallway outside their room, naked, my throbbing prick in hand, as dad had pounded deep inside of her.

I'd had to fight myself to stop from rushing into the room and pushing my old man off her and replacing him. My hard cock had finally spurted great gobs of cum against the wall even as Katrina's orgasmic screams echoed around me. I knew I still wanted to fuck her even after dad's marriage announcement.

"I want us to be friends. I'll be your second mom from now on," she answered.

"Second mom?" I asked, flabbergasted by her chutzpah. Then as a bright red blush spread over her pale skin I demanded, "What about my first fucking mom."

"Their marriage is finished Billy...your mom is young...rich...she'll find someone new."

"What, she'll go out and find a twenty year old boy toy and live happily ever after?"

"I'm an adult...a trained psychologist, a therapist."

"Great! Maybe you can give mom and Chrissie and I some free therapy. When you're not fucking dad."

"If you're going to be such an asshole yes, maybe you do need therapy," she spat back, finished trying to sweet talk me.

"I'm the asshole?" I wailed.

"You could come to the office...we could talk your problems out."

"My problem is you!"

"Well you better get used to me buddy," she hissed, then turned on her heels and stomped out of the room.

3 - Mom March 18th 2006

It was I who broke the news to mom and sis two days later. Dad said he'd do it but had wondered aloud to me if it wouldn't be better coming from me. That was after asking me to be his best man. "You're a chickenshit dad," I'd accused but finally agreed to his request.

My sister Chrissie was home from Gainesville for spring break but even she was surprised when mom's only reaction to my news was, "I'd like to strangle that prick."

"She's just a little, fortune seeking slut mommy," Chrissie said as she rushed to hug mom.

My mom, born Sophia Rosa Fratelli to second generation Italian Americans, was only thirty-six that spring, impossibly beautiful for a woman who had children aged nineteen and eighteen. Her thick, curly, auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders in a fiery cascade that simply led ones eyes downward to the full, round, still high and firm breasts that screamed to be cupped and caressed.

And then the ridiculously small waist, easily circled by my two hands, and then the flaring outward of hips and rear.... Mom was hot, something that my buddies almost inevitably pointed out to me after seeing her. Even my girlfriends refused to believe she was my mother.

And, in the twenty some months since dad had left her, mom hadn't had sex. Or at least I didn't think she had. She'd never dated, and unless she was having secret daytime trysts she was living cock free. And over the previous six months, with the two of us living together and Chrissie gone, I'd slowly come to the realization that I wanted to make love with her. My own mom!

"Are you guys okay?" I asked from the doorway of mom's bedroom a couple of hours after I'd broken dad's news. Mom and sis had retired there to commiserate together over my sad tidings. They'd taken a bottle of rum with them.

"You're all bastards," Chrissie slurred at me as I approached the bed. "Bloody men!"

I had come to try and comfort mom but still, I couldn't help notice what they were wearing. Mom was in a gossamer thin, light blue, v-necked satin slip, her large areolas easily seen through the material. Chrissie, was in a yellow tank top that only reached mid thigh and struggled to contain her breasts, full, round orbs that were spilling out the sides of it. Neither seemed to be wearing panties. Pissed off and half soused they were unaware of the effect they produced in me.

I crawled up the bed and then, after sitting between the two, put my arms around them and pulled them against me. "I love you two," I said as I gave each of them a squeeze.

"Yeah sure," Chrissie groused.

"Is she beautiful?" mom asked, her watching eyes dark pools of despair.

"Compared to you?" I laughed. "Ma, either dad's going senile or blind in his old age. You two are the prettiest girls in the whole world."

"I'm old," mom lamented.

"She's a blond...a foreigner," Chrissie added.

"Hah! If I wasn't your son...or your brother, I'd..." I added, leering suggestively at the two women as I squeezed them.

"You'd what?" my sister challenged, an invitation in her eyes even as she pushed her thinly covered breast into my chest. Her nipple was hard as it poked against me.

I blushed and said nothing, simply hugged them a little tighter in my arms. I knew that even in their inebriated condition they both could see how excited I was by the way my penis tented upward in my pajama bottoms. Neither said anything. We finally fell asleep together, innocently entwined. I dreamt of making love to the two of them.

4 -- Chrissie May 3rd 2006

The following six weeks seemed to fly by and suddenly we were three days before the wedding. Chrissie had just finished her last exam and was home from school. She was still refusing to attend the wedding.

"I'm staying home with mom," she declared adamantly when I begged her to come.

"I won't go then," I answered, "not without you."

"You have to go...you're the best man," mom insisted. "And you too sweetie," she said to her daughter.

"I hate him," Chrissie spat back.

"He's your father, he loves you."

"I have nothing to wear...its too late to get something...I don't have a date," she stalled.

"You'll be my date. And we'll go buy you a dress tomorrow. Dad told me you had carte blanche to buy whatever you want. At whatever cost."

"He did?" Chrissie asked, her female shopping gene suddenly activated.

"That's settled then," mom announced.


"No buts," I said grinning.

"Why don't you have a date anyway Billy...what about all these girlfriends mom keeps telling me about in her letters?" Chrissie asked me.

I just shrugged as I walked away.


We spent $4200 outfitting Chrissie for the wedding. And I made points with everyone. First, I called Dad to get his credit card info. He was delighted I'd talked my sister into attending. "I owe you son," he'd promised.

I called Katrina for advice on what kind of dress Chrissie should get and where. The two of us had declared a ceasefire over the preceding weeks and although not friends yet we were slowly developing a working relationship. After spending twenty minutes giving me advice she ended the conversation with a simple, "Thanks Billy...for calling me...for trusting me."

Katrina had given me the name of three trendy boutiques on South Beach, expensive shops that catered to the fashion crowd, and my knowledge of them and my advice to my sister truly surprised and impressed her.

"Where'd you learn about women's fashion," she demanded as we entered the first store.

It took an hour and a second store and the seventh dress Chrissie tried on before we found the perfect dress but I'd made no complaint. Helping her get into and out of the dresses had been more than entertaining for her horny young brother.

Chris, at five-eight, was a couple of inches taller than her mom, and although maybe not quite as full chested as her, her round, full orbs certainly reflected her genetic inheritance.

"That bra doesn't go with the dress," I said as I walked around her.

"I know, I'll have to wear a strapless demi bra or something."

"Better completely braless," I said over her shoulder as we both looked and inspected the dress and her in the large wall mirror.


"No buts," I said forcefully as my hands went to the clasp of her bra that was invitingly available with the near backless gown.

"Billy!" Chrissie protested as I slipped the dresses straps from her shoulders and let it fall around her waist. But then she watched transfixed in the mirror as I completely removed her bra and bared her pink capped tits. She said nothing as I stared at her in the mirror, didn't move as her nipples hardened. Finally I slowly raised the dress up and recovered her.

"See, its much better this way," I said.

"People will see my breasts...at the wedding," she said as she adjusted the bodice of the dress.

"You'll be prettier than Katrina," I whispered.

"She's blond."

"You have nicer..." I said as I ran my eyes appreciatively up and down her body.

"Nicer what?"

"These for one," I said grinning as I cupped her still pointed orbs in my palms. They fit perfectly.

"BILLY!" she screeched as she pulled away from me but as she turned to look at me I couldn't help but notice the saucy invitation in her eyes.

After changing and paying for the dress, as we headed out the door, I suggested, "Now we better go buy some matching panties, I understand there's a great lingerie store on the next block."

"I have lots of panties."

"Daddy's paying," I lured.

"Ohhh. Well maybe I could use something new. But you don't have to come...I can take a cab home."

"Hah!" I croaked. The two of us spent an hour inspecting the latest in women's underwear before we finally finished and went home. I got to see her magnificent breasts again. And again. In fact she seemed to delight in trying on bra after bra in front of her younger brother. Her nips were pointedly erect the whole time.


The wedding turned out to be a great success. Even Chrissie had a great time. Every man at the reception made it clear to her that they found her very attractive. She danced every dance. Even a couple with daddy while his new bride danced with me.

"Your sister's upstaging me at my wedding," Katrina whispered into my ear as we danced.

"You don't have to worry Mrs. Koury," I answered back.

"But she's beautiful," she insisted as we both turned to look at sis and dad dancing. "And she's been showing a lot of cleavage."

Laughing I answered, "You've got your man, you don't need a sexy dress."


"Are you fishing for a compliment?" I asked as I pulled her closer.

"Maybe," she answered even as she smiled sweetly at a passing couple.

"You're the prettiest bride I've ever seen, and you do have nice breasts," I said grinning.

"You're not so bad either...thanks Billy...for everything. Your dad was so happy to have you standing next to him today...that you got Chrissie to come. You've even been nice to me...I was worried that maybe you'd do something, say something," she said as for just a second she pressed her mound against me. She could feel my urgent hardness. "You're going to make some girl very happy some day," she said as the song ended.

I think now, looking back, that it was at that exact second that my plan to seduce Katrina was born.


"C'mon, it's the last dance," Chrissie said as she rushed up to me just after midnight.

"Finally! The beautiful princess has ignored her brother all night and now she decides to talk to him," I mock complained as she led me onto the floor. "She must need a ride home."

"Shut up and dance Billy," she ordered as she slipped into my arms.

And we did. Cheek to cheek. Belly to belly. I didn't talk. The hardness that was soon trapped between our bodies said everything about what I felt, what I wanted. She rubbed her body languorously against mine.


"I love you little brother," Chris whispered as we sat in the car in the driveway when we finally got home.

"I love you too. You were the prettiest girl there," I said as I put an arm around her shoulder.

"Not as pretty as Katrina," she argued.

"Hah! You're so pretty I almost asked the minister to marry us," I teased.

"I had fun...even though dad was marrying...you're a good dancer," she stammered, her lips just inches from mine, seconds from joining mine in that first taboo kiss.

"Ohhh Chrissssie," I murmured just as the front door opened and mom appeared in the light.

The three of us quickly ended up in mom's bedroom and after giving her the highlights of the night mom started to barrage us with questions. "If we're going to talk all night we better get some drinks," Chrissie insisted, then ordered me to find some.

After doffing my tux and shirt, I returned to the bedroom with bottle and three glasses in hand, bare-chested and wearing only some cotton pajama bottoms.

With the drinking we'd done at the wedding combined with what we quickly consumed in mom's bed the three of us were soon feeling no pain. Chrissie, perhaps because of all the dancing she'd done earlier, passed out first. Mom, who turned maudlin and teary soon after, was quick to follow.

I took off my pajama bottoms. Then, as I lay wedged in between the two of them, my hard cock pushing insistently against mom's bum, a bum I'd carefully bared, I made my second decision of the night. I suddenly knew I didn't want just Katrina, I also wanted mom. And then Chrissie, I thought as I fell asleep.

The two were gone from the bed when I finally awoke. I wondered what they had thought when they found me sleeping naked next to them. Wondered how long they'd stared at my prick.


I drove my sister to the airport later that day. We didn't have the opportunity to say the words we wanted to. But at the gate she turned and slipped into my arms and swallowed my mouth. "I'll be back September 2nd -- we have to talk," she said when we finally broke apart, "and make sure you e-mail me...like every day," she ended, then turned and slipped through the gate.

Three women, I thought to myself as I drove home, three women and I want them all.

5 - Katrina May 26th 2006

"Vanessa's coming to dinner," I announced to Katrina after getting home from school on a Friday afternoon in late May. It had been my first week staying with dad and Katrina since they'd returned from Hawaii and their honeymoon.

"Well we have lots to eat...your father's working again," she said, the exasperation clear in her voice.

"I know, he text messaged me at school. Urgent meeting with an irate customer," I said shrugging my shoulders.

"Urgent my...my fanny. He's taking a couple of his cronies fishing for the weekend. Who's Vanessa anyway, I don't remember meeting anyone called that."

"Just a friend...we're going to go clubbing afterward."

"Lucky you."

"C'mon, don't get mad at me...mommmmmy...you should be happy your boy has a date for the night," I teased.

"Fuck you junior," she snapped back but I could see the small grin that was forming at the corners of her mouth. Just as I oscillated between anger at her and lust for her, I knew she was beginning to regard me with a strange duality. I'd wondered if she ever dreamed of me like I dreamed of her.


Vanessa arrived just after seven thirty, suitably prepped by yours truly. A bottle blond, this twenty-one year old green eyed, golden tanned sweetie was sex personified. I'd met her where she worked, Miami's number one strip club.

"So nice to meet you Mrs. Koury, Vanessa crooned when I introduced the two girls. "Billy's told me so much about you." Then turning to me she added, "You're so right honey, I'd never have guessed your mom had two teenager children. She doesn't look a day over thirty." Then turning back to Katrina asked, "How do you keep looking so young maam?"

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