The Winning Ticket Pt. 3

***** It's funny and a bit ironic that so many of the readers who commented on the previous parts of this story, noted that the relation of Bobby and Tish, was one of being "half-siblings," and not "step-siblings." That was the big issue that concerned a number of people. The subjects of coercion, incest and rape were casually accepted. As usual, I will accept all of the blame for any misspellings and literary mistakes. When I get tired of all of the two-fingered typing, the structure can seriously degrade. Take it for what it is intended to be or pass it by altogether. If you're still with me, please enjoy! ****

I hesitated for a brief moment, my brows furrowed and a slightly confused look rippled my grin. Seeing my indecision, his soft hand reached for my blonde locks and he pleasantly combed his fingers through my lush mane. It felt so nice to have his strong hand brushing through my tussled hair. He saw my posture relax as I permitted him some unaccustomed erotic closeness, that a mother would not normally concede to a grown son. Then I felt his hand gliding slowly and caressing the tingly skin at my neck and apply a bit more pressure to my nervous shoulders.

Just a minute before, my son had eased towards the front door, with me anxiously following in his footsteps, and stopping at the entranceway. He was preparing to take his younger half-sister shopping, when he paused and turned back in my direction. "Before I leave, how 'bout making me smile?" That was the statement that had so perplexed me and caused me to freeze in place. For an instant, I imagined that he wanted me to smile at him and maybe kiss his forehead as I'd done on so many occasions when he walked out the door as a young boy.

With the continued downward motion exerted on my upper torso, I snapped-out of my momentary daydream and instantly understood the implied directive and allowed my knees to collapse. "That's right," he grinned, as if this old dog had learned a new trick. "You know where you belong, when I want you to be a good girl." My head merely nodded and I went about my assigned task accepting that this would now be a major part of my daily routine.

I was on the carpet between his legs and with an instinct, learned and practiced over the past few hours, I knew to unbuckle his belt, then unbutton and unzip his pants and tug the denim material down his firm thighs and come face-to-face, (so to speak,) with his rapidly inflating cock. But something strange had taken place overnight, that I was adjusting to more and more, the erotic idea of settling-in to the role of submissive sexual partner to a dominating force, (and in this extreme case, to an incestuous one.)

This illicit chore was no longer the repugnant, demeaning task that only yesterday, I had been forced to endure. Now, I seemed to appreciate the fact that I could be a sexual turn-on to my young son and that he was fulfilling my sensual hunger from being abandoned and "an unfinished product," in the prime of my sexual maturity. I welcomed the chance to learn and experiment in the taboo arts of manipulation and perversion. We had essentially sealed a pact of perversion, where he would provide security and financial wherewithal, if I accepted the proposition that he gained exclusive and undeniable possession of my body.

It wasn't the type of contract that I would proudly proclaim and I wouldn't wish that its details ever become public, but we both had something of value that the other one wanted. I was beginning to understand my position and his leverage, so I determined that my wisest course of action would be to make the best of the situation, which meant that I quickly get on his good side and that I learn to enjoy what I'm called-on to do. I took his large meat-stick into my small hand and gathered my breath, plastering a contented smile on my face and proceed to the business before me. I readily stroked the firm tool in my greedy palm and planted a series of warm wet kisses up and down the tremendous length of his prodigious shaft. And his eager humping of my willing mouth, showed me that I was progressing well, in my crude education.

During the exhaustive tutorial of the night before, where I had been lectured and shown just how I should fondle and arouse his swollen appendage, I came to appreciate the engorged member that would for the next year or more, provide the sexual relief and satisfaction that, up until now I hadn't realized that my yearning psyche had been missing. During the quieter hours of the evening, I had taken the time to study his impressive organ up close. It grew from a thick, dark patch of curly black pubic hair, where his scrotum hung like heavy ornaments in a weathered, leather pouch. When I cupped them delicately or swirled them on my tongue, I could sense each individual orb as it filled-out the restrictive reservoir. I knew that if I squeezed this sex sac, or in any way caused it harm, I could gain a measure of revenge, but then I figured, "What the hell good, would that do for me?" So, my next step was to learn just how to fondle and caress this squishy pleasure center of his, so that our time together, would be beneficial to the both of us.

On further tactile examination, my fingers would slowly glide over the rubbery skin of his swelling shaft while it was still expanding, but as it engorged and grew more solid, the taut flesh would become roughened with the subcutaneous outcroppings of the blood vessels and bluish veins that crisscrossed the extensive length and girth of his steely pole. For the moment, I was only concerned with his arousal and that freed me, to actually discover why it made him feel so good. With each slight movement of my hand as I searched for his tender regions on his cock and balls, I sensed his sudden intakes of breath and felt the tiny shocks as his organ literally hopped in my grip.

As it enlarged, my fingers found it ever more difficult to capture its entire circumference in my grip. I could feel my own body heat rising and my nipples swelling but I wanted to concentrate on his reactions. My hands would ease up the generous dimensions of this cylindrical engine feeling for each slight change in thickness or pulse and finally reach the thicker ridge, that overhung the under side of the sleek head like a soldier's helmet, and my thumb always rubbed against this thicker layer of knobby skin. Gentle manipulation of the roughened contour of this flanged edge appeared to excite us both, causing his cock to jump in my hand while a shivering tingle shot through my loins. The simple act of patiently stroking and kissing his large cock caused us both to reach heightened points of ecstasy.

When my digits topped the sloping crown of his fleshy dome, my thumb automatically swept over the winking slit, where the oily precum moistened and then lubricated the full glans. The sticky string of his ejaculate clung to my fingers as I smoothed it over the tender head, bringing a pinker glow and a sleekness to his throbbing joint. By spreading these viscous secretions over the sturdy helmet, it lent an oily sheen which could then be extended down the entire shaft and make the gliding motion of my slippery palm, that much easier to massage and masturbate his prodigious pole.

I could feel the awesome power contained inside of his sturdy cock by its pulsing intensity and when I flexed my palm a little tighter and rubbed it up and down the slickened sides, I could perceive that it was preparing to explode. It was then just an expression of my willingness to please him, that I would allow the turgid tool to part my lips and begin its piston-like pumping action inside my puffed-out cheeks. Nothing this large had ever entered my mouth, but by now, after hours of having nearly strangled on his enormous rod, I looked forward to the transition of smoothly taking it between my hungry lips and using my tongue to give him the ultimate gratification. Once seen as a degrading form of humiliation or as a reliable trick to gain an advantage, I now realized that it was a precious gift that I could bestow on someone that I truly wanted to be with.

Knowing that I have suddenly come to experience the slobbering thrill of bathing his bulging erection with my lubricating saliva, to be an incestuous turn-on and to wish that my domineering son should find me exciting and passionate as a sexual partner, I eagerly performed my sensual fellatio and wanted him to be anxious to spill his syrupy load into my waiting mouth. When I circled his sturdy girth with my raspy tongue and wound my slickened path from the base of his thick organ, up to the robust, bulbous head of his meaty column, I parted my ruby lips and eagerly vacuumed his throbbing rod to the back of my throat and tongued the cushiony underside, hoping to compel his fiery fluids to fill me up.

It had been just over twenty-four hours ago, that I had believed that the idea of volunteering to drop to the floor infront of a man, (and particularly this man,) and suck his nasty cock while anticipating the most demeaning activity that I could ever imagine, would be like sticking a red-hot poker in my eye. But before I had settled onto my haunches and extracted his turgid tool, every membrane in my body was igniting as one, my nipples were perking-up and my hot cunt was boiling over with orgasmic juices, because I was learning to accept that I had a submissive and kinky personality that was triggered by the strong application of a dominant tone or a powerful force. I was aroused by performing sexual favors for aggressive people.

It filled a kinky and lascivious void in my staid comportment to actually pull a man's cock from his pants and assure him that I would provide a thrilling and satisfying blowjob, while also feeling the complementary rush of juices to my own roiling pussy. For years, I chased after a sexual pleasure that I didn't quite understand. It took the lewd and lecherous maneuvers of my blackmailing son, to bring-out the sluttish and submissive character of my craving cunt. I struck a deal with him under extreme duress but I have come to understand that if I can mollify my moral conundrums and learn to accept that any sex can be exhilarating if it's with a substantive partner, (or more,) then I will be the richer for the experience.

He firmly but tenderly held my head in his hands while his hips started a steady rhythm of sawing back and forth, plunging his thick tool ever deeper towards the back of my throat. I was learning now, to breathe through my nose and to use my tongue to move his ginormous pole into either side of my cheeks. Still the saliva flowed freely and he ordered that I use my fingers and spread it liberally around the huge dimensions of his substantial cock. He liked the skin-slapping sound that it produced and though he never told me, I think he also liked the look of lust on my face as our combined fluids painted my cheeks. Then while feeding his cock to the far reaches of my tonsils and allowing it to ease back so that only the mushroomed cap remained in my mouth, I could more easily control the hard-driving plunge of his potent prick without disturbing his tempo or ruining the mood. Without my gagging or choking, he enjoyed the smooth insertion and continued with his violent thrusting, until he reached his bursting point. And if he even knew that I was using a little bit of leverage of my own, it either didn't bother him or made him feel that he taught me to give a better blowjob.

I felt his grasp of my head tighten and the thump of his balls slamming against my chin eased. His pelvis shoving and flattening my nose subsided to a few quick, longer jabs and I could actually feel the pressure inside of the shaft and a tingling near the head, signaling to me, to begin swallowing and hold the firm column so that it didn't cut-off my airway. I felt the rush and tasted the salty trickle, that instantly became a deluge. Most of it went straight down and I knew how he liked it, when I would continue to suck the rest and as he would say, "Put a shine on it."

There was always the fear of being drowned in cum and having my face lathered like it was shaving cream. Life does sometimes imitate art, but this wasn't a porn video. Through a crammed-course of giving head, I learned to not be afraid of my son's cum. Despite all of the horror stories, in an average cum-shot, there really isn't that much of it and it doesn't actually taste awful. There couldn't have really been more than a couple of tablespoons full and while it had a unique texture, I have sampled worse things in restaurants. It's the consistency of the semen that you need to get used to. It's like a terrible cross between liquid cough syrup and the chalky "prep" that you have to drink before a colonoscopy. And though most of it goes down fast, there is always a little coating inside of your cheeks or that drizzles out of the corner of your mouth, that give the impression that it should be measured in quarts.

He was gimpy-legged after he shot his wad and I was still licking the overflow from my fingers and face, so we took a minute to recover. Without any spoken words but with plenty of eye contact, we both smiled and acknowledged that we each enjoyed the send-off. Ironically, we've never kissed though all of our other body parts have been meshed together. Kissing would symbolize a very forbidden Oedipal type of love, while fucking just means that we're horny. He simply winked at me and squeezed my tits, as he proceeded to his shopping errand and when he glanced back as he walked out the door, I lifted my pajama top and shook my boobs, indicating that I'd be ready for more when he returned. We were both laughing as he left.

Then I headed towards a warm shower and contemplated a tricky upcoming conversation with my mother. I toweled-off and slipped into jeans and a sweater. Standing infront of the mirror and rehearsing the uncomfortable dialog and the notion of a ticking clock, a wave of nausea and a film of perspiration hit me. This was not going to be easy. While staring into the reflective glass and hoping for some convenient answer, it occurred to me that for this crude chat, I might be overdressed. There would be no possible way to make turn this into a normal mother/daughter talk, so I may as well spell it out as clearly as I can. I scrambled out of my clothing and wrapped a sheer robe around my quivering bare torso, then grabbed my file box of overdue bills and padded barefoot to the kitchen, making a brief stop at the liquor cabinet on the way.

Addie was just enjoying some afternoon tea when I placed two water glasses on the table and plopped down across from her. I poured three fingers over ice, into mine and nearly the same amount into hers. She appeared surprised and asked what we were celebrating. She knew all about Bobby winning the lottery and of the new big house in the gated community, but she was unaware of the lascivious details involving its new occupants. In answer to her question, I told her that tomorrow was moving day and that we needed a plan. The nervousness and deceit, drove me to consume my first gulp.

Mother wasn't the drinker that I was and did not have the tolerance, either. I guiltily relied on that fact. We lifted our glasses to my son's success and to the new beginning for all of us. We laughed and raised many toasts, drinks were drunk, I refilled the glasses. I saw the rosy blush soon develop on her cheeks and nose, and her hiccups just confirmed my diagnosis. We continued to clink glasses and take bigger sips. Addie was slurring her words and sloshing her drinks. Then she focused hard on my attire. She noticed that the sash of my robe lay loose in my lap and the peculiar lack of underwear. I took a deep breath and started. "Addie, we need to talk about the new arrangements." My own head began to spin a little when I remembered that the only thing in my belly besides vodka, was my son's sperm.

I had rehearsed any number of stupid ideas that I thought might somehow sugarcoat the lewd fact that the three generations of women in our family, (including her,) would only be invited to move in, if they accepted the perverse proposition, that they would become charter members of my son's harem of sexual sluts for the first year. Unfortunately, Hallmark does not make a card expressing that particular announcement, so I was forced to adlib. I opened the box of unpaid bills, with the big red letters claiming, "final notice" and "eviction by landlord," and set them beside her empty glass which I then refilled. She had a bit of trouble making the connection and then thought that this was some crude joke. I stated very bluntly that Bobby wanted us for sex and that we would be required to perform for his entertainment. She was certainly getting drunk but there was no way that you could misread that sentence. I hoped that statement would answer her questions. Ofcourse, it did not.

"I don't understand," she said, forcing me to spell-out the demented details of our satanic pact. I then repeated my basic outline. "What are you saying? Are you telling me that Little Bobby is going to open a house of prostitution?" Addie was from a small town in the Old South. Prostitution surely existed and was acknowledged, but with a sugary veneer of a necessary business. Incest, however, was a sin and never to be spoken of, and could get any participating partner buggy-whipped. She sat open-mouthed with a wide-eyed look of confusion. Her eyes blinked crazily and her lids began to droop so often that she kept throwing her head back so hard, I was afraid that she'd suffer whiplash. "Prostitutes," she repeated, "you and Tish?" I replied that it wasn't quite that simple or even that tasteful.

I think maybe that the alcohol was having its desired effect to quell her fury and stunt her dissent. But it swiftly dulled her faculties. I needed to repeat and detail exactly what would be expected of her and before I could mention a second four-letter word, she shrieked in agony and then poured two more glasses of 80-proof incredulity. Apparently, this time the realization struck home. She sat up straighter in her chair and looked me in the eye. "Do you mean that before we can move in with him, Bobby wants me to suck his cock?" She stuttered, gasped and then chugged another shot of potato juice. "He wants me to suck him, so that we can live with him?" Her eyes seemed to close and it appeared that she was taking a short jaunt down Memory Lane. "I mean if I was younger... not with my grandson, but... why me? Why would he want me to suck him? Why not you or Tish?" She seemed singled-out and insulted, not entirely understanding the scope of the situation. But it was funny, the idea of sex didn't bother her, nor necessarily the incest, (this lewd obsession must run in the family,) but the feeling that Bobby had picked her out as a victim.

I was almost laughing out loud, hearing my mother list all of the obscene inferences and her use of such profane language, but then I needed to set her straight. "No Addie," I jokingly offered, trying to lighten the mood. "You're not going to have to take one for the team." She stopped speaking and a worried grin creased her lips. "But you are going to have to suck his cock..." She looked for a minute as if she might faint, then she swallowed another drink. "And whatever else he might demand." She slumped in her chair. "Just like the rest of us," I finished.

"What do you mean? Are you going to have sex with your son too?" She wasn't quite grasping the urgency of the situation. "Does he want you to... do all of that too." Actually mouthing the words as opposed to imagining the deeds, seemed to be a sticking point. The alcohol was muddying the water a little.

"Mom," I tried to reason with her. "Tish and I have already had sex with him."

"What!?!" She shouted, the effects of the booze, varying in degrees. "Why would you ever agree to such an incestuous, illicit idea?" She grew a bit more indignant. "How could you ever allow something like that to take place."

That last remark just pissed me off. "I didn't allow it, Addie. I was forced into it." (This was probably to most intents, a fine shade of lying.) "And Tish faced the same dilemma. We did what we had to do."

"Well," she shot back. "I would never have done that. And how could you let Tish get involved in something so obscene?"

That did it. I flung the stack of bills in her face, and shouted, "There Addie, that's how I did it." I swept the room with my arms and was crying when I continued." (Taking a little pity on myself and presenting this unpleasant scenario in its most favorable light.) "Look at this place, mom. This is all we've got and they're threatening to throw us out if we can't pay. Have you got an extra $7,000 that I don't know about. What other choice do I have?"

She was perplexed, and I felt a bit sorry for her. I had never spoken with her in this tone and for certain, this subject had never been broached. I felt awful. Not just that I purposely got her drunk but that I also inadvertently, got her involved in this indecent predicament. She looked at me now in sharper focus but her brain was still a little foggy. "Why didn't you just ask Bobby for the money, he would have lent it to you." I then had to remind her of our fragile familial relationship, and to inform her of our most recent spat. Then she finally saw the light, and the vision that entered her mind, was not quite an appealing one. She sat quietly for a long moment-practically stunned at the gross actualization of this revolting development. And then she looked back at me, dejected and defeated. "What does he want me to do?"

"Well Addie, it's almost 8:00pm and he said that he'd be home around nine. He said that we would both need to be naked and both be in his bed, ready to fuck," (She shivered when she heard me say, what she knew I was going to say.) I could see that she had many more questions, most of which, she didn't wish to hear the answers to.

"I can't do it," Addie said softly. "He's my grandson."

"He's my flesh and blood son, but I did him. And he wants us both together, tonight." I was growing tired of this. We were stuck and I was doing what I had to do. I know that it was mostly my fault. And I know that Bobby wanted to fuck me as much for the humiliation, as for the sex. But I couldn't see another path and since I'd already fucked and sucked him and engaged in a threesome and incest, what on Earth could happen to me now. Addie just had to agree- I was getting angry at her attitude- though I understood her resistance. There truly was no other choice. He could find plenty of other women to fuck, infact he almost admitted that procuring women would be one of Tish's new tasks. And he could indeed lend me enough money to stay in this rat-trap with my old mother and just leave me to wonder what was happening in the new mansion. But why should I give-in now?

It certainly wasn't a new-found sense of morality since I'd swallowed his cum, a mere five hours ago. And I couldn't hide the fact that I found the kinkiness and taboo effect, to be a colossal turn-on. And I had already done everything that he asked and could do more, so why shouldn't I live in the new place. Addie would just have to play her part.

"What if I don't do it?" She inquired. "Maybe, he'll be satisfied with the two of you." She was searching for excuses that I knew would never fly, with my son. "I'm 65 years old, he doesn't want me! I'll just cook and clean and stay out of the way. Sort of like, I do now."

"Addie, you don't understand him like I do." I tried to make it easy but then I remembered Bobby's admonition about Tish and me growing jealous, if we were the only ones putting-out, even if we seemed to enjoy it and my mother found it to be repugnant. "Look, he said that to live there, you would need to become his fuck-slut! You can tell him 'NO,' but if he tells you to find another place, don't look to me. I'm telling you what will make it easier for us all, but you do what you want." Her face was a blank stare and her head nodded slowly but I couldn't quite read her expression. She rose from the table without saying another word. Her chair was pushed in and she left the room. I heard her door close and nothing more, it was 8:15 and I was worried.

I went back to take another shower and then to freshen my make-up. She was nowhere to be seen and her door was still closed, when I tiptoed into my room. I rummaged through my lingerie drawer looking for something sexy and revealing, hoping that if things went bad, maybe he wouldn't take it out on me. I felt guilty, but I figured that I was fighting for what I deserved. Almost at nine on the dot, I heard the car pull up out front. Bobby got out and carried a few packages to the door and then Tish drove away again, shouting a gleeful goodbye.

I met him at the door, my curvy torso sheathed in a black, babydoll nighty and strapless heels. I helped to carry the bags and inspected some of the luxury items that they purchased. Bobby smiled at me and kissed both of my tits. He was laughing and playful, squeezing my ass and making wolfish noises over my outfit. He said that he would take a shower and meet me in the bedroom. He also mentioned that he was hornier than he'd ever been. I went to the kitchen to mix us another pitcher of drinks and headed upstairs.

We met again in the upper hall, he was fresh from the shower, his swarthy, muscular complexion looked rippled and moist. He was bare-chested and his dark hair tussled and fragrant with shampoo. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and an obvious bulge, when he said, "Let's go to bed. My cock really needs to be

sucked and I want to fuck you for the rest of the night." There were moments I've discovered, when he can be sensuous and sexy and at those times, I could be completely turned-on. He was tall, well-built and ruggedly handsome and despite my best intentions, my pussy ached when we started to fool around. I reached for his out-stretched hand when I heard Addie whispering my name from behind a crack of her bedroom door. I promised to join him in a minute and felt his large hand pat my ass when I turned towards my mother's room.

Addie opened the door to her darkened room to admit me, and by the light of the moon creeping through the curtains, I saw the transformation. Her long hair was brushed to a golden halo and laying on her shoulders. She was blonde with darker roots, tinged with greyish streaks. She'd applied lipstick and eyeshadow, that heightened the effect of her sparkling blue orbs and she was blushing naturally. I knew that this wasn't her usual bedtime attire. She wore a gossamer pink nightgown that I hadn't seen in years but that still looked stylish and enticing. Her big tits sagged a bit but the nipples were engorged and she filled it out nicely. Her belly was rounded with a slight muffin-top and she had on pink panties that were remarkably sheer and tight. She was barefooted and obviously nervous, but damn, for sixty-five, she appeared sexy as hell and highly fuckable. I smiled generously and appreciatively when she asked me if she looked alright.

We walked unsteadily down the hall and turned into my son's room. He was sipping a martini and drawing back the bedsheets, when we entered. His lusty smile as he eyed the pair of us, was sensual and lecherous. If I used my imagination, I probably could have seen the horns growing from his forehead and the long tail curling between his legs. "My, my," he whistled. "You both look good enough to eat," and he laughed to himself, though it seemed an ominous choice of expression. "Addie, I expect that Molly told you that you're now, my slut." She hesitated and almost said something that would surely have spoiled the mood, but she caught herself. I was amazed. She merely smiled and nodded her head, forcing a horror-struck grin to crease the slight wrinkles around her dry lips and dilated green eyes.

"Molly, come sit on the bed." He reached-out and cupped my tits, leaving a wet kiss on the nightie at the location marking each firm nipple as I slipped passed him. Addie's eyes almost bugged-out as she was now certain of her fate. "So Addie, I'm glad that you accepted my invitation and I will gladly welcome you to your new home, tomorrow... providing that everything goes okay tonight." She was thrown off-balance for a second and so was I. Then he proceeded with his erotic torture. "Come here Addie," he pointed to a spot on the floor, between his legs. A gesture and a command, that I was all-too familiar with. Her eyes darted from his to mine and back. A visible line of sweat broke-out on her upper lip and brow as she struggled to take a deep breath. "Yes or no," he queried. Toying with her like a cat with a wounded mouse. "Are you my slut? Are you going to be a good fuck?... Like your daughter and granddaughter?"

The humiliation never stops. He was deliberate in exercising his perceived demons, and we had to decide which level of hell that we would descend to. With her mouth quivering and my eyes misting over, we looked again at each other and merely shrugged our shoulders. She placed one bare foot timidly infront of the other, the pink gloss on her toenails set-off the see-through outfit that she chose for this lewd arrangement. When she stood before him, his next order was that she lift her gown and present her tits to his slobbering inspection. She froze for a moment, just long enough to incur his indecipherable glare and that confounding crooked twist of his lips. We both wondered how things would play-out in the next few minutes.

"You know, Addie," Bobby intoned in a softer voice. "You don't have to do this," we both arched our necks at the same time. "If you have somewhere else to live, you're free to go," his smirk told the whole story and he left little doubt, that he would be setting the rules from now on. "Turn and leave or show me your tits and get down on your knees." Her stature seemed to shrink before our eyes and I knew the feeling. He could be generous and passionate-I knew that well- but there would always be a sexual stratum where he was the domineering force and we were there to service him. She blew-out a breath so hard that her bangs fluttered.

Addie grabbed the hem of her satiny chemise and lifted it, to reveal her shapely boobs. They were somewhere north of a 36D; probably a size larger than either Tish or myself, a bit saggy with the nipples pointing south but they were still a generous surprise and she stood shaken but proud as he looked her over. A very nice package for a senior citizen, and she balanced each heavy globe in her palms, seeming to offer them to him, for his pleasure.

"Just tell me what to do and I'll do it. This is all so strange to me, but I want to please you." Bobby and I were both a bit taken aback at the decisiveness of her reply and then in a more hushed and almost garbled voice, she uttered, "I know that I'm your slut now, and I'll try to do whatever you ask." Her words were so remarkable and unexpected, that I couldn't be certain what I was hearing. I must admit, that had it been me, I would have asked her to repeat herself. But my son atleast, had the good graces to accept her surrender and carry-on with his deviance. She held her filmy gown under her chin and allowed- almost displayed- her tits to be fondled and drooled-on by her perverted and aggressive grandson.

He planted a sloppy, loud kiss on the pouty nipples and kneaded the tender flesh of each wobbly melon. Then as he looked into her grey-green eyes; and turned back to make sure that I was watching, he laid his calloused hand on her thin collarbone and pressed lightly, she vacillated like a tall building in an earthquake, and slowly, her knees buckled. He told her to look up at him and smile, which she reluctantly did, and then he directed her to remove the towel from around his waist, holding back what appeared to be a tentpole, pointing at her wide, frightened eyes.

Addie's hands were shaking as she moved towards the cottony cover-up, and though she attempted to keep her eyes averted and basically rely on the Braille Method, when she slipped the towel to the carpeted floor and freed his mammoth tool, she let-out an audible and appreciative gasp of sensual wonder. It had probably been awhile since my mother had any contact with a man's cock, but she was certainly familiar with their basic outline. My son's organ though, (and I know that I sound like a proud and demented mother,) was thicker and longer than most. It was still only semi-hard, (I don't understand where he finds the restraint,) but gradually inflating like a giant balloon at the Rose Bowl Parade.

She was rocking back on her bare thighs and biting her lips, her breath came in halting gasps and she cleared her throat. I couldn't tell if she was fearing the fate of an amateur sword swallower or preparing her digestive system for the best meal that she's had in ages. This was also the first time that I had seen his prodigious pole from the safety of more than two feet and not being occupied by any other sexual organ. It cast a shadow on her face like some erotic sundial and from my vantage, off to the side, it seemed to jut-out defiantly, announcing its presence as if it had a voice.

Addie looked bewildered and feeling as if she was a Little Leaguer on a Major League mound. She just stared as this weaving column of swarthy, tumescent flesh danced at the tip of her nose. Bobby smiled with satisfaction, knowing the reaction from his immediate family, was now unanimous in agreement of the staggering dimensions of his unholy tool. My mom's emerald eyes were glued to this enormous phallic fantasy, she followed its swaying motion as a cobra weaves to the flute. "Go on Addie, you know what you want and you know what to do." For a second, none of us breathed a word.

"Please Robbie, I want to do what you ask, but I'm not sure." She stammered and big, wet tears welled in her eyes. "I'll do whatever you say, but you have to guide me, I've never done this. I've only seen it in dirty movies and I don't want to mess up." She seemed so sincere and apologetic, that Bobbie and I glanced at each other and knitted our brows.

"Are you telling me that you've never had a cock in your mouth?" He almost laughed out loud but seeing her drop her head and the full-body blush that enveloped her, he realized that this needed a different tack and also, that he could train her as he wished. "You've never given a blowjob, and you've waited all this time so that your grandson could be the first? Is that how it is? Have you always fantasized that you wanted to suck my cock, Addie?" He was having fun and we were both embarrassed but the humiliation factor was what most of this was about. Even if the sex stopped tonight, the shame and degradation would be with us forever. Bobbie was not merely raping us he was owning us. And he wanted to make sure, that we understood it. "Tell me Addie, is this what you want, do you want to taste my cum?"

She knew now, without a doubt, that the stories that I told her earlier about the incestuous sex that he manipulated with Tish and I, were all too true. But like her daughter and granddaughter before her, Addie was getting excited by the illicit idea of being "forced," to have sex with her grandson. She was still on her knees, she had wrestled her gown over her head and remained there, in only her pink panties which were developing a deeper red spot in the crotch and becoming even more translucent, permitting Bobbie and me to clearly see the greying curls that covered her pubic mound and the wetness that clung to her quivering frame. "Yes," she mouthed slowly and almost inaudibly. "I want to suck your cock and taste your cum. And I will," she continued. "But I've never done that and I need you to teach me how."

I didn't know if she was disclosing an embarrassing secret or if she had figured a way to seduce him, by playing along to his S/M fantasies. And I was careful not to ruin her approach. Afterall, we were all handling this libidinous situation in our own way and for Tish and me, we seemed to have found a path that would ease our consciences and stimulate our clits. And by the look of her dampened undies and the perky nipples crowning those swaying boobs, I'd say that my mother was getting into the taboo spirit of our incestuous menage.

He smiled again, not quite certain of her intentions but assured that he was still in total control, no matter how it played-out. "Take my cock in your hand Addie and stroke it." He watched diligently, searching for any sign of a trick but was satisfied with her effort. "That's right, rub me all over and use your tongue, lick my cock from top to bottom... and my balls too." She was neither naive nor stupid. She just wasn't raised that way, but she learned quickly from the manner in which his turgid tool throbbed in her lips and from the hot, moist feeling roiling her pelvis and causing her thighs and hips to shake. "Now kiss the tip, a nice wet kiss, and let it slide into your mouth. Then suck it like it was the best lollipop that you've ever tasted." She seemed like a natural or was atleast overcome with the exciting, illicit concept of taboo sex with her young grandson.

His hips began to thrust into her chin and his big hands gripped her ears, he hammered away at her surprised mouth and plunged deep into her throat. Unaccustomed to the activity, she nonetheless accepted the challenge. Her cheeks worked like a vacuum, bringing his engorged cock between her lips and then slightly withdrawing it, only to suck it back in again, until they built a sensual rhythm and brought-on a dual state of delirium, leading to their mutual orgasms. It was primal and violent. Thrusting and slobbering, sweat pouring down faces, and their bodies moving as one, they were caught in the strange bounds of lewdly erotic ecstasy. She started to choke and cough but it ended quickly, when he shoved hard and let loose with a volley of salty, creamy juice. Her green eyes lit-up and she desperately tried to pull his irresistable rod from her gasping mouth, merely to be able to breathe. But her lower half was on fire and she couldn't get enough of his throbbing pole. He held her still and disgorged his potent seed into her hungry vortex, pumping his bursting cock until his thick cum drizzled from her lips. She did her best to take it all.

She was shaking too. Her tiny hand grasped his rod tremulously, as it slipped back and forth between her slobbering lips. Her cheeks puffed-out and her body stiffened, knowing what was about to happen even if she had never experienced it before. He was holding her but also in a sense, guiding her, because she was anxious for the experience and ravenous for the climax. The firm pillar of pleasure was plunging deep into her suffocating throat and coming back out, shiny and solid. He tugged on a shank of her sweaty mane and held her head steady as he targeted the approach of his throbbing lance. She gripped his firm thigh and pushed back with his every thrust, forming a penile piston system that reached the erotic heights for the both of them.

His cock burst forth its essence, flooding her mouth and shooting down her throat. It was so fast and so much, that though she thought she was prepared for it, it caught her off-guard and the first spurt drained directly down her throat, but still filling her surprised mouth. She gobbled it down and pulled his still-firing cock from her mouth so that she wouldn't be strangled, a few stray jets coated her face and tits then splashed on her belly. Later, it would be a cause of subtle embarrassment to her, that she'd had her first cum-bath, but for now the warmth and kinky excitement aroused the tingling spark in her lonely cunt. She timidly touched the gooey syrup that was dripping down her excited chest then she began to spread the sticky resin over and around the pink, pouty nipples standing erect on her big tits, and then licking her fingers and imitating Bobby's cock, allowing her digits to poke in and out or her luscious lips. She couldn't hide it or control it. Her climax came on like a bomb and she rolled on the floor, shivering and shrieking in sensual delight.

Bobby appeared thrilled with the progress of his newest pupil, still writhing and moaning on the dank carpet, quivering from the aftershocks of the most explosive climax that she'd had in twenty years. But my son wasn't yet satisfied, and his next move was completely unexpected. He grabbed Addie by her hair, twisting a hunk of her greying locks in his grip and yanking her to her feet, then he tossed her partially nude body against the mattress leaving her half-sprawled on the edge of the bed, so that she appeared to be saying her prayers before bedtime. She was still on her knees but her upper torso was pressed into the sheets. He slapped her ass hard enough to leave an imprint of his hand, which we soon saw when he ripped her wet panties from her jiggly backside. Then he got in between her legs and told her to invite him to fuck her.

She shrieked at the unforeseen spanking, but if she had been playing a game, it ended now. Bobby collected her undivided attention and she was ready to follow orders, just like the rest of us. Addie's head turned as far as she could, being an older woman with a touch of arthritis, her green eyes widened and a look of disbelief played on her face. "What do you mean? I don't understand? Invite you, did you say?" She was totally lost as was I, sitting next to her and feeling my own orgasm building, just from watching his rough treatment of her. "Pease help me Robby," she was sniffling and falling entirely under his control. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"You're going to invite me to fuck you," he almost whispered, leaning forward and looking into her eyes. "I want you to reach behind you with both hands and spread the lips of your pussy, and then you're going to ask me politely, if I would please shove my big prick into your tight little cunt." The degradation never ceased but also, he was transitioning us from equal partners into complementary ones. "And Addie, I want you to be as descriptive as possible," he turned to me also, "you too Molly, you're both going to use your vivid imaginations and tell me just how hard and how deep, you need me to fuck your horny little holes."

Our purpose, as we were individually discovering, would be to use our lusty bodies to serve our new Dom and speak in such a vile and debased manner, as to titillate the new master and enhance his hypersexual ego. Bobby had easily discerned from our convenient moral lapses, that the women in the family were super-charged at the submissive roles that they were required to adopt. The more pleasure that we could supplement from the perverted experience, would only make it simpler for him to control us.

My otherwise staid mother, almost instantly became the poster-child for a woman with a high libido and low morals. And apparently, this condition runs in the genes. She scrambled to oblige him, asking only for his approval in this new roleplay or whatever it was, of being a cum-slut to her new master. I was getter hotter by the second just being a voyeur to this incestuous debauchery. I slipped my sheer nightie over my tussled locks, knowing that Bobby would heartily approve, then my fingers gravitated southward and I started toying with my moist pussy. There was something almost as exciting as being fucked, in watching my son fondle and fuck other women.

Addie followed his commands and added some more vulgar phrases to his illicit request, bringing the temperature in the room- and to all of our pubic regions- to the melting point. She begged and pleaded for him to slam his big cock into her hungry orifice and welcomed his straining organ into her constricted cavity. His huge cock struck some initial resistance, both from her internal angst and also from decades of underuse, but she pushed her ass back at him and moaned deeply as he pressed his rod firmly into the narrow passage, and soon she was being raped by her grandson, exactly how they had both imagined this taboo seduction.

Having just unloaded a gallon of his sex-juice into her mouth, even my 22 year-old son couldn't fire another shot that quickly, but to him, that meant that he could spend more time actually fucking. And he took advantage of his opportunity. Bobby's cock was buried in my mother's tight cunt and he slammed his organ back and forth until he practically shook her teeth loose. She was shrieking her enthusiasm and gripping the sheets with her tiny fists, as he drove his monstrous tool to the depths of her swollen pussy.

Without even caring and nearly ignoring me, their crude sexual escapade had brought my own pussy to the brink. I was all eyes and ears, watching the debauched scenario play-out and learning from the experience. I wanted to become, what my son called, "a good fuck." I'd been fingering my hot snatch since the moment he shoved his cock in her mouth and now that she was being fucked from behind like a farm animal, my manic digits had struck gold. My clit was reddened and rubbed raw from my solo-stimulation and now my quivering cunt exploded and I laid back on the damp sheets and writhed to an extreme climax. It took a moment to recover my senses and I realized that my son was calling to me. He told me to scoot over infront of my mother, so that Addie could learn how good it would feel to eat her daughter's pussy. I didn't hesitate for a second, positioning my yearning cunt for another pussy-licking from yet another member of the family.

I knew to comply with his orders so I shuffled to a point directly infront of her face and placed my bent legs on either side of her squirming torso. She merely looked at me and we instantly performed our role in this erotic play. I spread my cunt lips, allowing the sweaty fragrance of my acidic hormones to tempt her virginal tongue, one more time. Addie didn't resist or complain, having just sucked my son's cock, she was more-than-willing to lick her daughter's clit. She kissed all around the newly-shaved petals of my distended labia and then zeroed-in on my pouty clit. With Bobby still sawing away at her cunt, she stuck her tongue into my fiery opening, savoring the oily tanginess of my feminine fluids.

I was ready just from observing how deliberately and willingly, that she crawled between my thighs, to mount one of the strongest orgasms I'd ever had and my mom's tender yet rapid strokes on my pinkened nub started the river to flow. The gauge went from zero to sixty in a heartbeat and spasms racked my shivering frame. From the intense combination of feeling me shudder beneath her twirling tongue to the jolts being received from her own cunt, as her grandson slammed his tumescent tool into her tight passage, she exploded with another toe-curling climax and shrieked like she was flying down the rails on a roller coaster. We both climaxed at the same moment and when the time came that we could focus our attention on each other again, we came to realize that it was our sexual destiny to be cum-sluts for our goatish, young rapist.

We were both worn-out from the experience but we weren't twenty-year-olds. My son, with his endless supply of sexual energy, wrestled me to the carpet alongside my mother and placed us in position so that he could simultaneously fuck us. The exhaustion that we felt was now energized by adrenaline and libidinous creativity. Addie and I were faced with the uncomfortable situation of having to acknowledge each other and watch the expressions and listen to the groanings, as each of us was fucked in turns by my satyr-like son. But like the night before; when I first experienced this crude development with my daughter, Addie was more drawn to watching me being fucked and my own lecherous emotions were peeked seeing my mother surrender to her own lewd urges, and we both seemed not to care, that the licentious lothario directing this absurd scene of debauchery, was our son and grandson, Bobby.

As he took turns sticking his impressive organ into our gaping orifices, we each strained our necks to watch the powerful insertions into the other one's cunt and listen for the squealing, impassioned pleas for him to fill our desperate lives and hungry holes. He would yank our long, sweaty manes and juggle our hanging, swaying tits, while shoving his firm prick into our inviting cunts continuously, one after the other. We both shouted-out our obvious delight and squirmed under his authoritative command. This was a concentrated group-fuck, controlled by one man over his new harem of sex-slaves, and neither of us were in any way disappointed.

After about ten minutes of legendary fucking, he turned us around and sat us on the wet mattress, where he continued his powerful insertions, only this time, back into our mouths. We were like hungry little birds, our necks craned and mouths wide open, eager to get his turgid tool in our mouths and to swallow his milky essence. We slurped and gulped, greedily vying to be the sluttiest woman on the bed, trying to earn the honor of providing the best blowjob and to hear him say that we had become "a good fuck."

With our lipstick smeared like clown makeup and each orifice growing swollen and bruised, we moaned and groaned with fatigue but determined to taste his salty reward. Bobby was pumping our tired mouths and straining to supply the finishing touch, when he finally commanded us to press our faces together as his sexual exertions reached a thunderous crescendo. He pulled his throbbing piston from our deprived lips and weaving it back and forth, hosed a gusher of his sticky fluid into our mouths and all over our jiggly breasts. We shrieked and screamed as the warm, creamy juice bathed us in his brackish seed.

We were facing the door as Bobby poured his juices on our trembling bodies and we were all grunting and squealing our last gasps of pleasure. Addie's eyes closed as the spray washed her face and Bobby was turned towards the room, but I noticed a distinctive wail coming from the hallway, and without turning my head but only glancing sideways, I saw that my daughter was leaning on the door jamb with her shorts and panties around her ankles, plying her lithe fingers through the moist, pink lips of her bald labia. Her shrieks blended with ours and it was evident that she was ready to join this erotic little tryst. It would soon be time for round three. Our small sensual family reunion was about to kick into overdrive.

The End of pt. 3

Votes and Comments welcomed.