Me and My Gods Family Pt. 02

This is a work of fiction created by the author

All characters involved in sexual acts are over the age of 18.

I woke up next morning my heart hammering against my ribs.

I slammed my hands onto my chest, trying to cage the frantic thumping, Was that a NIGHTMARE?!!

My own bedroom stared back at me, alien and wrong. Wide-eyed, I didn't recognize a goddamn thing.

Yes it had to be a nightmare, sure it was although the details were slippery, vanished like smoke.

Or what I felt at that moment was just a reaction to what happened to me last night, was it a nightmare too.

I hauled myself up, gasping for air, clinging to the lie that what happened from my kids were a nightmare and already gone

But as the panic started to recede, the more I thought about what happened the more I knew it was real.

It was too much for me, what my children did to me, what they told me, how they feel towards me, GOD.

Suddenly, the truth slammed into me: I was the goddamn living dead in their world.

I knew nothing, nothing about the sick filth they'd become.

My own mother, drilled by my sons. My daughter, a fucking whore for her brothers. And instead of any shred of remorse, they'd dared to rape me, the cunts, then they had the courage to spat in my face what they called a truth, calling me the worst mother in the world.

I shook my head violently, as if I could physically eject the reality with sheer willpower, but the throbbing ache deep inside, the raw, burning soreness between my legs, screamed the truth.

It wasn't a dream. It was real, and now the monstrous reality was here, breathing down my neck.

I fell back onto the bed, staring at the blank ceiling, my mind a goddamn whirlwind of impossible questions. How in the holy hell was I supposed to live with this? Forgive them?!! They should be begging for my forgiveness, the sick bastards.

Could I even stand living between them joining their twisted incestuous life,?!!! Or was the only sane thing to run, to leave this festering shithole behind and never look back?

"Why the fuck should I care anymore?" The thought echoed, a cold, hard stone in my heart.

My youngest twins were nineteen, practically twenty, each with their own lives, their own selfish pursuits. They could rot for all I cared. They could well take care of themselves.

It was time that I was waiting since I lost Mike, time to follow him to the other world, to finally leave this godforsaken world behind.

That had always been my escape plan, and now, with this fresh hell, it felt like the universe itself was screaming, NOW IS THE TIME

They'd had the audacity to say I was half-dead, stuck between their depravity and the life I once knew.

But NO, the ignorant mother fuckers were wrong. I was already dead inside.

My soul had died the day Mike left, and for so long, I'd been a goddamn ghost, living only for them.

But they didn't want that anymore, they didn't appreciate a goddamn thing I'd done, and in some twisted, fucked-up way, I could almost understand it.

I'd done my best, raising them in this shit world, even if it wasn't what they wanted, but now, the well was dry.

There was nothing left to give, not a single drop. It was time to walk away, FOR GOOD.

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Six AM. Like every morning since he left. I dressed, the familiar ritual a cold comfort, preparing for my pilgrimage to Mike's grave.

I walked into the kitchen, seeking desperately for my morning coffee, but once I stepped in the kitchen I froze.

Mom was already there, hunched over the counter.

She looked like absolute shit -- dark circles under her eyes, face blotchy, like she hadn't slept a wink. I felt a pity for her for as moment, she was my mother, the woman who brought me to life the woman who took care of my kids and helped me raising them.

God, I just remembered her with Mike Jr dick in her pussy, and all the sympathy inmy heart for her vanished, the rage surged back, a boiling tide. No pity for that fucking whore.

"Good morning, Jessie,"

she mumbled, her voice weak and hesitant as I stepped fully into the kitchen.

"Morning," I clipped out, not even bothering to look at her, just focusing on the coffee machine, "About last night..." she started, her voice cracking, her face flushing and paling by turns.

"I just... I wanted to ask you something."

I finally turned, my gaze flat and cold, pinning her where she stood.

Let her squirm, let her drown in the filth she helped create.

She faltered under my stare, her eyes darting around like a trapped rat. A long, agonizing silence stretched between us before she finally choked out,

"Do you... do you still want me out of the house?" Her voice trembled, a pathetic whimper barely holding back tears.

I stared at her for what felt like an eternity, a wave satisfaction washed my chest as I watched her writhe in her own discomfort.

Then, while locking my gaze to her I shook my head.

I drained the last bitter drop of my coffee and walked out of the kitchen without a single word.

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I spilled it all to Mike, every single detail of the horror they'd inflicted.

I sat beside his cold grave, the words pouring out of me like poison.

I needed him to answer, needed his voice, his guidance, hoped, in some desperate corner of my broken mind, that he'd reach through the silence and tell me what the fuck to do.

I waited. And waited. Just like the last twenty years, when he always had an answer, a steady hand.

I expected a sign, any fucking sign. A breeze, a bird call, anything to break through this suffocating reality, but there was only silence.

Thirty minutes passed into the quiet of the cemetery. I sat there, a statue of grief and rage, watching the dead world around me, oblivious to the storm inside me. And still, nothing.

"Answer me, you son of a bitch!" I finally roared,

The raw frustration ripping from my throat, echoing in the sterile quiet. but the only response was the crushing emptiness of the grave, the deafening silence of the dead.

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I dragged myself home, feeling like absolute dogshit.

I'd gone to Mike's grave expecting... something.

Approval. A sign. Maybe a goddamn butterfly flitting past, a bird singing a specific tune, even a single rose falling from a nearby tree.

Anything to tell me he was happy I'd be joining him soon, but that cemetery had been a tomb of silence this morning, colder and deader than usual.

By the time I walked through the front door, it was nearly eight.

I was already late for my daily routine but honestly, who gave a fuck about schedules anymore? What did anything matter?

They were all gathered in the living room, a goddamn ambush, waiting for me,.

I ignored their pathetic gathering, heading straight for the stairs, needing the sanctuary of my bedroom to change for the pointless charade of work.

Breakfast? How in the living hell could I eat with them after what they'd done, after they'd violated me in my own home?

"MOM, can we have a word?" Mike JR's voice, dripping with false concern, snagged me as I reached the first step.

I flicked a look over my shoulder, my eyes burning daggers, before continuing my ascent without a single goddamn syllable.

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When I finally dragged my exhausted body back home at six pm, the same goddamn scene awaited me in the living room.

But this time, Sam and Chris were there too.

The reinforcements had arrived. They must've called in the fucking cavalry.

I made a beeline for the stairs, but Chris, his massive frame a solid wall, blocked my path.

"MOM, we're here. Can't you even say hi to me and Sam?" His voice was deceptively gentle.

I tried to sidestep him, but he didn't budge, a silent, imposing obstacle.

I locked my gaze with his, the anger a molten core inside me, and spat,

"Move aside, kid."

He shook his head slowly, his expression almost pleading.

"Sorry, Mom, but not until we talk. Or at least promise me you'll talk to us tonight. We don't want you disappearing into your room like you usually do."

I glared at him, the simmering rage threatening to boil over. Through gritted teeth, I hissed,

"Or what? You'll fucking rape me again?"

Chris's eyes widened, the accusation hitting him like a physical blow.

He flicked his gaze towards Mike Jr. for a split second, a silent accusation hanging in the air between them, before tears welled up.

His voice cracked, raw with pain as he begged,

"Mom, we're your sons, your babies... please, don't do this to us."

Tears streamed down his face, and a sharp pang of guilt twisted in my gut.

How could I resist that raw pain? How could I turn away from my own child's tears?

His words started to chip away at the icy wall I'd built, but just as quickly, I slammed down my resolve.

With a sudden, brutal surge of fury, I slapped his face with the full force of my despair and rage. The crack of the slap echoed in the tense silence.

"Get out of my fucking way, you son of a bitch!" I screamed, my voice raw with pain and fury.

Chris stared at me, pure terror in his eyes.

It was the first time I had ever struck him -- any of them. Even through all the goddamn chaos, they had only ever known tenderness and love from me.

He recoiled, clutching his reddened cheek, his massive body finally moving aside.

I lifted my chin, my tattered dignity my only shield, and walked up the stairs to my bedroom, leaving them in the wreckage of their actions.

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The moment the door clicked shut, sealing me in the suffocating silence of my room, my legs buckled.

I crumpled to the floor, the weight of it all a physical crushing force, even for someone as hollowed out as me.

A sharp, burning pain shot through my hand, making me wince.

That goddamn slap. The first time I'd ever laid a violent hand on any of them... except for that time with Mike Jr.

Will this be my fucking legacy now? Will I become a violent, bitter hag, Is that How I want my kids to remember me after I go.

They had always been good kids. Polite, well-behaved, never a problem.

No fights, straight As, the golden children.

They'd never given me a reason for punishment, and honestly, even if they had, the thought of hurting them, it was unimaginable.

They were my baby gods. WERE.

I don't know how long I knelt there, lost in the labyrinth of my broken thoughts, before a soft knock echoed through the door.

"Jessie, baby, are you okay? You're killing us, baby."

Her voice. My whore mother.

I didn't answer, couldn't bring myself to utter a single syllable.

But she persisted, her voice laced with a desperation I almost found satisfaction in.

"Jessie, please... It's been more than two hours. You haven't stopped crying. Please, let me in, Jessie."

Her voice cracked, and through the thin wood, I could hear the wet, ragged sobs. That's when the horrifying realization hit me: I was crying too.

Howling, animalistic sobs that wracked my body. I'd been so consumed by the internal maelstrom; I hadn't even registered my own breakdown.

I'd always known I was teetering on the edge, but in that moment, the certainty crashed down on me: I had finally lost the last goddamn shred of my sanity.

"Jessie, please. Don't do this to yourself... to us. Please, let me in."

Slowly, like a puppet with severed strings, I pushed myself to my feet and shuffled to the door.

Without a word, I turned the lock and let her in, then immediately locked it again behind her, trapping us both in this suffocating space.

She moved towards me, her arms outstretched, wanting to enfold me in some twisted semblance of comfort. But I recoiled, stepping back until I hit the edge of the bed and sank down.

I stared at her, my eyes hollow, waiting for the inevitable bullshit to spill from her lips.

Mom sank to her knees before me, placing her hands on my thighs, her touch feeling like a brand. She lifted her tear-filled eyes to mine, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"Jessie, baby... I know what happened yesterday was too much for you, but we only did it for you."

My frustration flared, a violent, uncontrollable heat.

FOR ME? Was that her fucking explanation? That pathetic, self-serving lie? They raped me. They fucking raped me.

The urge to slap her, to kick her out and watch her crawl away, was almost unbearable.

But she was my mother the ghost of a lifetime of respect, held me back.

Mom must have seen the storm brewing in my eyes, because she spoke quickly, her voice a desperate plea.

"At least listen to me, so you can understand how it all started. Maybe then... maybe then you'll find the strength to forgive us."

I glared at her, every muscle in my body tense, ready to unleash a torrent of fury, but my throat was raw, burned out from two hours of silent screaming.

There was no fight left in me.

Again, she seemed to read the exhaustion etched on my face, because she hurried to add, her voice softer now, almost begging.

"Please, let me prepare dinner and get you hot soup to drink while you change your clothes. Then... then I'll tell you everything."

I shrugged, a weak, almost imperceptible nod. God, I needed a hot drink.

Mom's face flickered with a fragile hope, and before I could brace myself, she threw her arms around me, pulling me into a tight, suffocating hug.

When she finally released me, she stood up and hurried to the door.

"I'll be back in ten minutes, baby,"

she said, her hand on the doorknob. Then, pausing in the doorway, she looked back at me, her eyes filled with a desperate plea.

"Will you... will you let me in again?"

I met her gaze, the exhaustion and despair a heavy weight in my chest, and gave a silent, almost defeated nod.

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Fifteen minutes later, I was lying in bed, sipping the hot soup Mom had made for me.

The contents and flavor were familiar, but I wasn't focused on that; I was lost in my thoughts.

All I knew was that I needed something warm to drink.

Mom sat beside me, dressed in her usual nightgown, which reached just above her knees.

"Can we talk now, Jessie?"

she asked softly, almost pleading, her hand resting gently on my bare thigh.

I, too, was in a comfortable nightgown, but I didn't look at her. I simply nodded.

She took a deep breath, as though preparing for a long speech.

"Well, I'm going to tell you some things you might not know, Jessie," she said.

Her words caught my attention, despite my attempts to stay disinterested.

"I was born into a wealthy family, the only child of my parents," she began.

"And if you've ever wondered where you got your bad temper and wild nature, well, let me tell you, it's in the genes."

That was enough to make me sit up a little straighter.

Mom had never spoken about her past before. Maybe I hadn't asked, but now, I was curious.

She paused for a moment, taking her time before continuing.

"When I turned eighteen, I was exactly like you at your age--wild, independent, never accepting 'NO' for an answer, beautiful, and, most of all... horny,"

She said, stressing the last word for emphasis, and just like that, she had my full attention.

"And because I was the only child, Mom and Dad never said no to me or forced me to do anything I didn't want to," she added.

She paused again, and I almost spoke up but she continued,

"In the late sixties and early seventies, women were becoming wilder than ever," she began.

"We were exploring all sorts of pleasures--one-night stands, threesomes, orgies, drugs, alcohol... and I mean heavy alcohol and drugs,"

She said, her voice carrying a nostalgic yet unflinching tone.

A certain light gleamed in her eyes as she spoke.

"It was a wild time in my life. I'd come home every night either drunk or stoned, after a night of hard fucking. I had just finished high school, refusing to go to college, even though your grandparents begged me to."

I was listening with my attention, Mom was a whore when she was 18, no wonder now why she opens her legs for her grandsons, I wanted to tell her that but I wanted her to finish her story,

"Well, your father was the son of my dad's business partner," she began, her voice steady.

"We were promised to each other since we were kids. but back then, neither of us was thinking about marriage. However, when things got out of control for both me and your father--especially since he turned into a 'lover boy' himself--our parents insisted that we marry."

She took a deep breath, clearing her throat before continuing.

"Your dad agreed easily, even though he wasn't ready to marry, and he certainly wasn't keen on marrying a woman who was labeled a 'whore.' But he couldn't say no to his father, as for me, I refused. I yelled, shouted, and cursed everyone, and then I took as much money as I could behind my parents' backs and ran away with some of my hippie friends."

A soft smile touched her lips as she continued,

"Six months later, my dad used his connections to get me out of trouble and keep me from going to jail, by that time, I had abortion--twice. "

She paused for a moment clearing her throat then continued,

"Finally, I came back home, full of shame and guilt. And when your dad proposed to me again, I agreed without a second thought."

I started to understand why she was telling me all of this.

It felt like she was almost recounting my own story, with only a few slight differences.

But how she will explain fucking her grandsons?

Mom cleared her throat, then stood up to get herself a drink.

She poured a glass of wine before returning to sit beside me on the bed.

She took a sip, then continued.

"Your dad was a great man," she said.

"He never reminded me of my past mistakes, not even during our fights, but, at the same time, he knew how to tame me from the very first night of our marriage."

My eyes widened. I could tell where this was heading, and the thought of hearing about her sex life with Dad made me uncomfortable, even though I couldn't deny there was an odd, curious side of me that found it strangely compelling.

Her face brightened, and her smile widened as she went on.

"At that time sex for us was sucking and fucking, we didn't know the current definition of the submission or dominance, or that stuff, but your father, he tried many things himself because he knew my nature from our very first night,"

She said, her voice growing softer, her face flushed with a mix of memories and emotion.

She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, her voice now heavier, as if each word carried more weight than the last.

"He was treating me like a whore in bed, humiliating me with every trick he knew before fucking the shit out of my three holes, but in reality, he treated me like a queen on her throne,"

She continued, her voice softening.

"And that's how I fell in love with him--blindly and completely."

Her eyes began to well up, the tears shimmering before spilling down her cheeks, her voice cracking with a genuine sorrow.

"He was everything to me, Jessie. My anchor, my strength... So, you can imagine the gaping void when he was gone, the twenty long years stretching out without him."

A raw sympathy tugged at me, the instinct to pull her between my arms rising within me, but then the brutal reality of her betrayal slammed back, hardening my heart.

I hesitated, a step backward putting distance between us.

She reached out, her left hand finding my bare thigh, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the tremor in her fingers.

"And you can imagine our terror, Jessie, when you turned eighteen and started dating Mike, it was like watching a horrifying rerun, the same damn movie playing out again, but this time, we were desperate for a different ending., That's why we fought so hard to keep you away from him--because we knew, deep down, you'd end up doing exactly what I did... run away with him."

Her hand began to stroke my thigh, a slow, unsettling caress, her voice grew strained, her breaths coming in shallow gasps.

"We were hoping you'd come back to us, just like I did in the past... but you never did, when we found out you were pregnant, your father... he cried in his room like a child. It was his first grandson, and he knew he wouldn't be there to see him, to watch you become a mother."

Tears pricked at my own eyes, a delayed wave of guilt washing over me as I glimpsed the pain I'd inflicted on them. But the guilt was quickly overshadowed by a bitter truth; it was my life, my choices, they had no right to choose for me.

Mom seemed to sense the shift in my emotions.

She moved closer, her knees brushing mine, her caress on my thighs becoming more insistent.

"We don't blame you, Jessie," she said softly, her voice thick with unshed tears.

"On the contrary, after everything, we knew we were wrong about Mike. When we heard about his success, I started trying to reach you--not because you were a public figure, but because we knew you were right. Your dad... he thought about calling you too, but his pride, that same stubborn pride you inherited from him, held him back. He was waiting for you to reach out first. but you never did, not until... not until his final day."

The dam finally broke, my tears spilled down my face, hot and heavy, as the crushing weight of regret overwhelmed me.

I had lost my chance to reconcile with Dad, all because of our stupid, shared pride.

I had been so goddamn foolish not to pick up the phone until I knew he was in the hospital, the "what ifs" clawed at my throat.

"Don't blame yourself, baby," Mom whispered, her voice choked with emotion as her caress on my thighs continued, a disturbing intimacy in her touch.

"I'm telling you this now so you understand the chances we throw away in life, all because of the wrong fucking choices."

Now the whore is trying to twist this, trying to make me feel like I'm the one who's wrong for being furious after they raped me.

The anger surged, hot and violent. I wanted to scream, to spit in her face, but she spoke quickly, her touch on my thighs becoming more possessive.

"Don't misunderstand me, Jessie. Just listen to what I'm saying, and later... later you can react however you goddamn well please," she said, her voice soft but with an underlying steel.

I took a ragged breath, trying to quell the rising tide of fury and disgust.

She continued, her hands now moving higher, dangerously close to the hem of my nightgown.

"Mike's accident... it was a disaster for all of us, especially for you. But I was the only one who could truly understand what you were going through. I was already mourning the loss of your father. To me, your father was like Mike was to you. But I had lived with him for more than twenty years, while you only had five with Mike. I'm not comparing our losses, baby. I just want you to know that I understood... I understood the emptiness."

Her hands had moved higher, her fingers now brushing against the fabric of my nightgown, and a wave of nausea washed over me. This felt wrong, deeply, sickeningly wrong.

But she kept talking, her voice a low, hypnotic murmur.

"We all knew you'd need time to heal, and we waited. But each day, it seemed like you were sinking deeper into your dark world. We heard your every sound -- you talking, laughing, even arguing with Mike every single night. We heard the whole damn thing, Jessie -- the highs when you were up and the lows when you were down, even the sounds of you reaching your orgasm as if he was fucking you senseless. You were losing yourself, Jessie, and there was nothing... absolutely fucking nothing we could do to pull you back from your dark hole."

The weight of her words landed like a physical blow.

Had I truly been that transparent? Had they witnessed the fragile remnants of my connection with Mike, the desperate reaching for a ghost? Shame, hot and prickly, crawled under my skin.

"Even during the day, it was like you were barely there. We caught you talking to Mike, asking for his advice as if he was still standing beside you. You were living your life on autopilot, a hollow shell going through the motions, and we all knew, Jessie, we all knew you were planning to follow him once you were sure your kids were safe."

The feeling of being utterly exposed was suffocating.

Every private grief, every whispered conversation with the absent, laid bare for their scrutiny.

But a bitter question gnawed at me: why did they even care? They'd dismissed me as half-alive, incapable of truly understanding them. If that was their truth, why would my leaving matter?

Mom's hands had indeed went higher than appropriate, her touch lingering on my inner thigh, a disturbing intimacy. A shiver traced its way down my spine.

Was this some twisted attempt at seduction? No fucking way.

"We all love you, Jessie," Mom's voice cracked, the emotion sounding almost genuine.

"Your kids... they adore you. I've woven your love for them into every story, every meal. They know how much you loved their father. I've shared every memory, every little detail I could. They haven't given up on you, Jessie. They live with the hope that one day, maybe one day, you'll find your way back to yourself, back to living."

Tears streamed down my face, a mix of shame and a reluctant stirring of something softer. But I remained silent, the words caught in my throat.

"Do you want to know how things began with my grandsons?" she asked, her voice heavy with a strange undercurrent.

"I'll tell you, Jessie. And then... then you can decide what to do with that information."

My attention snapped back, a morbid curiosity overriding the disgust.

How had my sons, my own flesh and blood, ended up between their grandmother legs, sharing their sister? The image of Liz, getting drilled by her brother, and violated her, flashed in my mind, followed by the sickening thought of my sons taking turns... Fuck, how is any of this real?

"Since Chris and Sam turned eighteen, they... they became the men of the family, Jessie. Not just of the house,"

Mom began, her voice surprisingly steady, yet laced with a tremor of something I couldn't quite recognize.

"They took over the management of my inheritance, the ranch I got from my parents, as well as my share of your father's business."

My eyes widened in disbelief. My sons were running my mother's business? Where the hell had I been? Why hadn't anyone told me this?

"I never asked them to take over," Mom continued, her gaze distant.

"But they did it on their own, when they saw I was... failing. Losing money every damn day. And to my utter surprise, they stepped in and... fixed everything."

She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.

Her hands stilled on my thigh, and a strange sense of unease flickered within me at the sudden absence of her touch.

She cleared her throat and pressed on.

"Even when that gang back at the ranch tried to blackmail me, threatening to cut off supplies unless I paid them their exorbitant demands... Chris and Sam handled it. They went there, Jessie, and they took control of the situation."

"What?" I blurted out, disbelief warring with a flicker of something akin to pride.

"Sam and Chris went up against a gang?"

Mom shifted closer, settling beside me on the bed.

She put an arm around my shoulders, her other hand returning to my thigh.

I tensed initially, the intimacy still jarring, but the warmth of her touch and the gentle rhythm of her caress began to chip away at my resistance, leaving me in a confusing limbo of shock and a strange, unwanted comfort.

Her voice trembled slightly as she continued.

"That's when... everything changed. I tried to stop them, threatened to tell you if they interfered. But at that moment, Chris... he grabbed my arms with his strong hands, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, 'You will stay here and say nothing until we come back. Understand?'"

Mom's breath hitched, and I could feel the lingering impact of that memory on her.

"I'll never forget that moment, Jessie," she whispered.

"It was the first time... the first time since your father passed away that I felt such a... firm sense of control from someone. My body... it reacted instantly. Every nerve ending woke up, and I could barely breathe. A fire... a fire ignited within me. All of my desires... they just... awakened."

I remained silent, a knot of confusion and a growing unease tightening in my chest.

Her left hand rested lightly on my shoulder, while her right hand continued its unsettling caress on my upper thigh, now dangerously close to the edge of my panties.

A strange, unwelcome heat began to bloom within me, a confusing mix of revulsion and something I didn't want to acknowledge.

"You know what I did, Jessie. I obeyed Chris's orders. Literally. I stayed put in the living room, waiting for them to come back. I didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe wrong. But when you came home from work... I had to move, reluctantly, because if I hadn't, I would have had to explain myself to you."

A small, involuntary smile touched my lips, the first genuine smile since this nightmare began.

It was then, in that bizarre, twisted confession, that I recognized a disturbing echo of myself, a hint of where my own submissive tendencies might have taken root.

"When they came back after only two days, Chris had a bruise around his eye, and Sam was limping slightly. But they had good news, Jessie. The police had arrested the entire gang."

My smile widened, a surge of unexpected pride for my sons momentarily eclipsing the horror of everything else.

I made a mental note to ask them one day... how the hell they had managed that

Then, I felt my mom's tears hot against my neck, soaking my hair. Her voice trembled, each word thick with emotion.

"My God, Jessie... how could any woman not fall in love with those two? They were handsome, funny, rich, successful, famous, and so damn caring... uff,"

she let out a shaky breath,

"it was impossible for me to resist them, to deny a single one of their requests, any of their unspoken orders."

I ripped myself from her embrace, the intimacy suddenly vanished,

"Did they order you to fuck them, and you just... obeyed that easily? What a fuck mom!"

The words exploded from me..

Mom's smile didn't reach her tear-filled eyes. She pulled me gently into another hug, a soft, wet kiss pressed to my forehead before she continued her story, her hand still stroking my arm.

"You think so?" she asked, her voice soft but surprisingly steady.

"You don't know your sons, baby. They would never do something like that. They're more decent than that."

She smiled bitterly then said

"And why the hell would they even look at an old woman like me, when all the young girls in the world would be lining up, desperate for them to just point a finger, ready to bend over backwards? No, baby, they didn't. Although,,,," a wistful sigh escaped her lips,

"if they had, I would have obeyed in a heartbeat."

The girls were waiting for my sons to bend the knee? The thought hit me like a physical blow. I'd never considered that... never noticed anything about my sons, never seen them with a girl. Fuck. Why hadn't I ever wondered? Why hadn't I asked them? Where the hell had I been, so lost in my own shit?

"After they came back home, I was consumed by guilt--guilty for what they'd been through because of me, even though they kept telling me not to worry." Her voice dropped, becoming almost a whisper.

"And then... then I started feeling this hunger, yes, baby, a deep, gnawing hunger. After all that time, I wanted one of them--or both of them--in my bed."

Her breaths grew shallow and ragged, her tears still falling freely.

Her right hand, which had been caressing my arm, now subtly poked against my clit through my clothes.

"But it was impossible. I tried to shove the thought down, bury it deep. They are my grandsons, it's incest. And they were only eighteen years old. How could I even think of taking advantage of them? And why risk destroying my entire relationship with them if they rejected me?" Her voice was thick with unshed tears.

"I was lost in that dark maze of thoughts for over a week, until one night, around midnight, there was a soft knock on my door, and then they both just... stepped into my room."

She turned, her movements jerky, to grab the drink from the side table, took a long sip, and placed it back down with a clink.

When her left hand returned to me, it settled gently on my stomach, her thumb making slow circles through my nightgown. I could hear a strange mix of nervousness and anticipation in her voice as she continued.

"Each one took a side of the bed, Chris on my left and Sam on my right. They both took one of my hands in theirs, their strong fingers squeezing mine softly.

Chris began to speak about how much they appreciated everything I'd ever done for them, how they would do absolutely anything to make me happy, to see a smile on my sweet lips."

A familiar warmth, a dangerous warmth, began to spread through me.

I used to melt at those carefully chosen words, and Chris had always known exactly how to speak to a woman.

For the first time, feeling of sympathy pierced through my judgment. How could she have resisted them?

Mom's right hand was now lingering on my clit, the pressure increasing almost imperceptibly.

I didn't pull away. As she slowly lifted my nightgown with her other hand, her touch trailed across my bare skin, pausing deliberately on my stomach.

The act was a clear, unsettling form of seduction. But I remained outwardly calm, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, yet determined to hear the rest of her story before demanding her to stop.

If she thought these calculated gestures would sway me, she was welcome to that delusion, but I wouldn't be distracted.

"I was trying to resist the pull of their words, but it was so damn confusing." Her voice was soft, almost pleading.

"They hadn't done anything overtly wrong--just expressed their care for me, holding my hands so gently. But then, in less than a minute, Chris leaned over and kissed my left hand, and Sam immediately followed, pressing a kiss to my right. Instinctively, I tried to pull my hands back, my voice trembling as I mumbled that none of this was necessary, no need for their sweet words or gestures. I told them I was their grandmother, and of course I loved them, truly. But in that moment, all their sweetness felt like a suffocating weight, leaving me utterly powerless. I couldn't pull my hands away, and my mouth was so dry, the words wouldn't form. I wanted to tell them to stop, but the strength just... wasn't there."

A disturbing heat was pooling low in my own belly.

Her story was undeniably arousing, painting a vivid picture of what had transpired in her room.

I was getting lost in that unsettling fantasy, but then I felt Mom's left hand begin to rub my clit through my dampening underwear, while her right hand slid smoothly upwards, finding the curve of my breast under my nightgown. She made things exponentially worse when she pressed a deep, lingering kiss to my neck, a kiss that sent a jolt of pure sensation through me. It took every ounce of my willpower to suppress a moan.

"They moved closer, their movements fluid and deliberate, leaving me no space to object." Her voice was thick with remembered desire.

"Chris slid his body closer, his right arm draping possessively around my shoulders. He took both of my hands in his left, pressing them to his lips in a tender, passionate kiss, his eyes locked on mine, filled with such intense feeling it was overwhelming. Meanwhile, Sam moved lower, gently pulling the sheet down, exposing my legs, before softly stroking my feet, each touch slow and amazingly deliberate."

My own breath hitched in my throat, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Was it the story, or was it the increasingly bold exploration of my own body by my mother's hands -- the insistent rub against my clit, the hand slipping under my nightgown, the wet heat of her kiss on my neck? A small moan of involuntary pleasure escaped my lips.

"My gaze flickered wildly between Chris, who was now gently rubbing my bare shoulder and still kissing my hands, and Sam, whose soft touches on my feet were sending these shocking electric jolts through my entire body." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I was breathless, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst, an unbearable tension coiling tighter and tighter inside me. The sensations were so intense, so all-consuming, that I felt like I was teetering on the edge of losing complete control."

My own breathing was shallow and rapid.

Sensing my wavering resistance, Mom's touch grew bolder, with a newfound confidence, she tugged my nightgown down, the fabric whispering as it slid off my shoulders, revealing my bare breasts and then her hand moved with a sickeningly knowing precision to my aching nipples, beginning their slow, circular assault.

"Mom, stop," I finally choked out, the words thin and reedy against the heavy silence.

Mom smirked, then leaned in, her lips brushing mine in a deliberately soft kiss before she shoved her tongue into my mouth for a brief, unsettling moment.

She pulled back and continued as if nothing fucking happened.

"It was clear they were trying to seduce me, but I had no idea how far they intended to go. I was lost in a whirlwind of desire, my mind screaming at me to resist, to tell them to stop before they can go any further, but my body was a traitor, craving something more, practically begging them to skip the foreplay and just take what they wanted. It was right then that they both seemed to sense it, moving forward like they'd reached some unspoken agreement."

Mom's fingers circled my nipples with a maddening slowness, hardening them into aching peaks. Then, the bitch had the nerve to slip her other hand under my panties, her fingers immediately finding and rubbing my bare clit.

"Oufffffff," a raw moan ripped from my throat.

Mom's voice was a husky pant, still catching her breath.

"Sam knelt on the bed, gently lifting my legs and resting them against his chest. The movement made my nightgown ride up, exposing my wet panties, and a wave of heat flooded me. My desire was a goddamn tidal wave, growing stronger with every passing second. Meanwhile, Chris kissed my bare shoulder, his lips trailing upward until he reached my neck, where he started to kiss and lightly bite. Sam's hands caressed my thighs, his touch soft but deliberate, inching closer to where I could feel this burning wetness building inside me. That's when I realized I was letting out these soft, whimpering moans, a testament to the pleasure and the suffocating tension that had taken hold."

With a determined push, Mom shoved my panties down, finally revealing my slick, throbbing pussy.

The raw scent of my arousal filled the air, making me even hornier, if that was even fucking possible.

A part of my brain screamed to stop her, but another, darker part knew it was already too late.

Mom leaned in again, pressing a longer, deeper, more insistent kiss to my lips, and to my utter shock, my own damn lips responded.

When we finally broke apart, Mom returned to her insidious ministrations, her fingers rubbing my clit softly while her other hand caressed my tits.

"Sam put both my legs on his shoulders, looked me straight in the eyes, and said, so softly it was a command, 'MARIE, CUM FOR US. CUM FOR YOUR GRANDSONS.' Then, he barely brushed his fingers over my panties, just a feather-light touch, but a firestorm erupted in my body, and I went through an orgasm I hadn't had in goddamn ages."

"Ouuufffff," another involuntary moan tore from my throat.

Those little devils played in Mom's head more than they ever played with her body.

But does she do the same to me now playing with my mind with this hot explicit story while invading my body with her deliberate touches?

Who the fuck taught them all this? I thought wildly as one of Mom's fingers poked insistently at my swollen pussy lips. I knew she was about to finger me while her other hand was still cupping and squeezing my tits.

"It was a massive orgasm, even though they barely touched me. And when the aftershocks faded, I found my panties in Sam's hands, while Chris had already moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my body, his hands caressing my tits through the thin fabric of my nightgown."

Her fingertip slid into my already soaked pussy as she said, her breath still ragged,

"I finally found my voice and whispered, 'Babies... that will change everything.' Then Chris murmured in my ear as he pulled my nightgown off, and I lifted my arms to help him. While I watched Sam get rid of his boxers, revealing his thick cock, Chris was unhooking my bra, leaving me completely naked. Ouffff, that was the hottest fucking night of my life."

Her finger was now moving deeper inside me, my wetness slick against her skin.

Moans of pure pleasure escaped my lips, my breathing shallow and fast. I knew I wouldn't last long before climaxing on my own mother's finger, but then she shoved another finger inside me, squeezing my tit harder at the same time, and that was it. I screamed as a shattering orgasm ripped through me.

Mom kept fucking fingering me while sucking on my neck, still squeezing my tits until my orgasm finally subsided. Then, she just continued her story as if it was the most normal goddamn thing in the world.

"My pussy wasn't exactly ready for that kind of action, you know? I had a bit of a forest down there, hadn't shaved in a while, so I was embarrassed of your sons, worried they'd be disgusted. But neither of them showed a single sign of hesitation when Sam buried his face between my legs and started sucking. I gasped for air and told them to hold on, let me at least wash for him, but suddenly Chris was gagging me with his dick."

Mom was again rubbing my clit softly, and a new orgasm was building with terrifying speed. She nipped at my neck, leaving a wet mark, and continued.

"Before I could even catch my breath, I was going through another fucking orgasm. But before I could recover, I felt Sam's thick dick head trying to penetrate my old, long-neglected pussy. It was obvious they wanted to go all the way with me, and I wondered if my old body could even handle both of them. Then, I sucked in a huge breath when Sam's cock finally slid inside me. And I could breathe because Chris wasn't shoving his whole dick down my throat, just letting me suck on the head. I wanted to scream at them to use my body however the fuck they wanted, but my head went completely blank the moment Sam started to move inside my pussy."

Mom's fingers were relentless, and a desperate plea tore from my throat.

"Harder, Mom! Finger me harder, goddammit!"

She didn't hesitate, shoving another finger deep inside,

My soft moans twisted into strangled screams, but Mom didn't rush, her slow, deliberate rubbing driving me fucking insane.

"I was building another orgasm when Chris's cock slid into my mouth, soft at first, while Sam pushed another agonizing inch into my pussy. That was it. Another shattering orgasm ripped through me."

I lifted my head, eyes locked with Mom's, and practically begged,

"Harder, please! You're driving me fucking crazy!"

Mom leaned in, her kiss a desperate, wet tangle of tongues, while her fingers inside me went faster, but still not fast enough for the raging fire in my core.

Breaking the kiss, she continued, her voice thick with lust,

"It was too much for a woman my age, two orgasms in less than fifteen minutes. But I was so goddamn horny, being with two young men after being deserted for so long. And the incest, the taboo of fucking my own grandsons, the raw desire in their eyes, the way they touched me... it was all driving me completely mad."

My mind was dissolving, the story a distant hum. Mom had set my body on fire, her dirty talks, it was almost the first time to hear mom swear and talking dirty.

Before I could beg her to go faster, she shifted me, cradling my head in her bare lap.

I instinctively spread my legs wider, offering her complete access to my throbbing pussy. In that position, her fingers could plunge deeper, faster.

But Mom didn't just plunge; her rhythm accelerated, our eyes locked in a primal connection. My moans escalated into full-blown screams.

I was losing every shred of control, my mind a blank canvas of pure sensation. I actually thought I was going to piss myself as my body convulsed on her lap, a tidal wave of pleasure erupting as my juices exploded from my pussy.

My juice leaked out of my pussy, shattering my composure and drenching the bed sheets.

Her fingers were still inside me when my massive orgasm faded away, but then she slowly eased her rhythm as the aftershocks subsided.

I stared up at her, panting, lungs burning for air.

I wanted to ask how she'd acquired this talent for making me cum that easily and that fast, but my mind was still a fog, the words lost somewhere in the aftermath.

Mom leaned down, pressing a brief, wet kiss to my mouth before continuing her story.

"Sam extended his hand, helping me to my shaky feet. I struggled to obey, and once I was standing, he scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing, then pointed his hard cock at my dripping pussy before sliding it in, slow and deep. I was so fucking wet, my juices were still leaking out, so he slid right in."

Mom paused, clearing her throat, then turned my head to face her own slick pussy.

She hiked up her nightgown and pulled my face closer to her wetness, all while her fingers returned to that magical touch inside me.

"Sam didn't have to try hard. He just planted his cock inside me, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. Then he started to lower me onto his cock, and before I could even take half of his length, my body clenched, and another shattering orgasm ripped through me."

Her breaths were ragged as she told the story, while I shamelessly licked at her pussy through her panties, then impatiently shoved the fabric aside and lapped at her bare, swollen flesh.

Her fingers inside me were relentless, pushing me relentlessly towards another peak.

"When my orgasm finally subsided, Sam slipped his cock out, and I gasped at the sudden emptiness. Then he laid me gently back on the bed. The last thing I remembered was both of them kissing me softly on the lips, whispering 'Good night, Marie' before I drifted into that post-sex coma."

Mom's words were like a drug, her pussy scent intoxicating, the taste of her driving me wilder as her fingers never stopped their relentless assault inside my wet pussy.

"Oh, fuck, Jessie! Keep going! Right there, yes! Ouuuffff, I'm fucking cuming, baby!"

Mom suddenly screamed, but her fingers didn't stop, even though her pace slowed.

Her filthy, delicious talk amplified my own rising orgasm, and again, my pussy erupted, another torrent of slickness flooding.

Our screams mingled, a symphony of pure, raw release.

After a long, shuddering two minutes, I wanted to beg her to continue her story, but I was completely spent.

Was it the three orgasms in less than half an hour after so long that drained every ounce of my energy? Or the long time sobbing and decrypting that I spent, in addition to the overwhelming long day? Maybe it was both. All I remembered was closing my eyes and sinking into oblivion.

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I woke up in a daze, convinced it was already midnight, only to find it was barely 9 PM when I reached for my phone.

My body felt exhausted, yet strangely relieved--a sensation I hadn't experienced in over twenty years.

A smile had formed on my lips, and I shook my head in disbelief. How could I feel this way--relieved and even happy--when I should be angry with my family?

But Mom had succeeded in seducing me smoothly and softly into lesbian sex, something I had never experienced before.

Yes, I had been with women in threesomes, foursomes, even orgies, but never one-on-one.

I shifted my body to sit on my bed in the dark, trying to clear my head and figure out how to deal with my fucked-up family.

Of course, they all knew what had happened between Mom and me by now, so how could I punish them for something I had already done?

I shifted again, and my elbow poked a warm body beside me.

When I looked, I found my naked mom sleeping next to me.

I used my phone light to examine her, liking what I saw.

Mom was in her late sixties but still had a round, soft ass and smooth back skin. I

got on my tiptoes to turn around the bed without waking her, wanting to see all of her.

Yes, I had seen her naked before, but I had been in a rage and hadn't focused on her nudity.

When I faced her, I didn't like what I saw.

Her tits were big but saggy, and she had extra weight and loose skin in her stomach and arms. Yes, she was in good shape for her age, but she had nothing to attract my sons' attention and push them to get between her legs.

Mom opened her eyes and smiled when she noticed me watching her.

She reached out as if to pull me into her arms, but I ignored the gesture, heading straight for the light switch.

As the room lit up, my eyes widened in surprise at the mess around us, the air thick with an unpleasant odor.

I hurried to open the window, hoping the fresh air would help clear the smell.

That's when Mom spoke, her voice soft.

"You were sleeping so peacefully, with a smile on your face. I didn't want to wake you up to change the sheets or your clothes. I only took off mine and slept naked."

I looked down at my nightgown, realizing how stained and smelly it had become.

A quick shower was definitely in order. Just as I turned to leave, I heard a knock at the door.

"Mom, are you okay? Can I come in?" Liz's voice called from the other side.

I was confused, unable to calm my mind as I tried to figure out how to handle things with my kids.

I didn't want to be caught in that situation, with my naked mom in my bed and the room still heavy with the scent of sex.

But before I could make a decision, Mom moved quickly, opening the door just as Liz stepped in and immediately closing it behind her.

Liz didn't seem shocked when she saw her grandmother naked, nor did she comment on the lingering scent in the room or the state of my clothes.

Instead, she rushed into my arms, her voice trembling as she said,

"Mom, please forgive me. Don't judge me until you hear me out."

She was my lovely daughter, and I loved her to death, but what she had done was something I couldn't forgive easily.

Yet, here I was, in my stained clothes, with my naked mother in my bed. How could I blame her? I was a mess with my thoughts.

"Come on, Jessie, sit down and listen to your daughter. Let me finish my story--the one you didn't hear. You left me in the middle and fell into your after-sex coma," Mom said, her gaze full of amusement.

I looked at her with a gaze full of blame, but she just smiled and winked, then tapped the bed beside her.

I let out a long sigh before moving to the bed and sitting beside her.

Moments later, Liz jumped up to sit next to me, sandwiching me between her and Mom.

It was the same position I had been in last night between Liz and Mike Jr. I leaned back against the pillow as Mom turned to face me and said,

"Next morning I woke up with spasms in all my muscles, but to my surprise, I didn't feel sore in my pussy."

I looked at her again, with blaming eyes.

"Mom, watch your language."

She smiled, then continued as Liz pressed her body against mine, throwing her arm around me and resting her head on my shoulder.

"But I just remembered that both your kids didn't even fuck me. Sam only penetrated my pussy, but he didn't use any power to push me to my three massive orgasms."

I let out a long sigh. My words to her felt in vain--she was insisting on speaking freely, and Liz didn't seem at all disturbed by her dirty talk. Where the hell was I?

"I took a long shower, a wide smile on my face, but when I stepped into the kitchen and saw Chris and Sam with their handsome faces and smiles, I blushed so hard I nearly fainted. I didn't have the strength to face them."

I smiled bitterly, then said,

"Sure, you should be ashamed of what you did," my words meant to sting.

Mom smiled, unbothered, and said calmly,

"No, baby, I wasn't ashamed at all. I just wanted to figure out why they fucked me, what they found in an old woman like me when they have all the chances in the world. But I didn't even find the power to ask them. They seemed to know what was in my mind."

Once again, she captured my attention, weaving tales about my children that felt like legends.

"Chris flashed me one of his trademark smiles, the kind that always seemed to leave me flustered. He began to explain their situation, saying they had noticed how I had started to see them as men, not kids, ever since they resolved the issue at the ranch. They were aware of the way I acted around them--how I stammered, blushed, and how my hands lingered when we hugged. They could tell I was feeling something more when I saw them. They also knew I wouldn't approach them or ask for anything, so they decided to take matters into their own hands."

Mom placed her right hand between her legs and started to rub her pussy before she continued between her high breaths.

"They told me they loved me and appreciated everything I had done for them. They acknowledged that I could leave at any time, search for love outside the house--especially since, when their father passed, I was in my forties, with a handsome fortune and beauty that could make any man stop in his tracks. They decided it was time to bring joy and pleasure into my life."

Liz extended her arm and started to rub her grandmother's tit while Mom was rubbing her own clit.

I wanted to shout and stop both of them, but instead, I said with a soft voice, almost a whisper, "Mom, stop that."

Mom leaned forward and kissed my mouth softly, then returned to her own movements.

Liz didn't stop caressing her grandmother's tits and even pinching her sensitive hard nipples, which caused Mom to moan before continuing with labored breaths,

"I wanted to say something. I wanted to say what we had done was taboo, and I never expected anything from them when Chris interrupted me with a passionate kiss on my lips. When he broke the kiss, I was transported to another world, and I heard him explaining that they did it because they loved me and wanted to take care of their family's needs. They would be happy if I welcomed them again, but if I didn't, they would continue to love and respect me. It was entirely my decision if I wanted them again."

She began to intensify her movements when Liz released my body and shifted her position to lie between her grandmother's legs, and started to suck her pussy.

Mom gasped and inhaled deeply before pulling Liz's head closer and said through her quickened breaths:

"Yes, baby, yes."

Liz was sucking mom's pussy when she increased her efforts and shoved a finger inside her grandmother's wet cunt.

Mom continued her story while panting:

"I gathered myself, with tears in my eyes, and went to my room. What they said was overwhelming. I wanted to stop feeling attraction toward my own grandsons, not because I didn't want them anymore--oh, Liz, right there, ouufff--but because I didn't want them wasting their time with an older woman like me. Oh, Liz, you're driving me crazy."

Liz was fingering her grandmother while her lips cupped her clit, sucking and licking it.

"I stayed in my room the entire day and finally decided to tell them that we should stop. So I went to Chris's room to inform him, but when I saw his handsome face and his loving eyes, I found myself taking off my clothes, getting fully naked before them, and throwing myself into his arms. And since then, since--oh--then--oh goodness, I'm cumming, baby!" Mom cried suddenly before quaking on the bed, drenching her granddaughter's face with her flood, intensely adding to the disheveled state of the bedsheets and heightening the atmosphere in the room.

Liz maintained her efforts until her grandmother's intense orgasm subsided, then began to clean Mom thoroughly--her pussy, her stomach, her thighs--before wiping her own face with her fingers and cleansing them.

It was a startling image to watch my daughter sucking and fingering my mother, but that image aroused me to the point where I began to respond to my own needs while looking at my daughter with desire.

It seemed all the passions I had suppressed during the past twenty years had awakened suddenly, and my body was demanding attention.

Liz glanced down at her dampened white crop top, then slowly raised her arms, establishing eye contact with me before removing her top.

I gazed hungrily at her sculpted form, with her firm, youthful breasts, her distinct features, her long arms, her toned abdomen, her blonde short hair.

I was observing her as if seeing my daughter for the first time.

She was stunning. How could my sons resist her beauty if she ever desired any of them? That was my thought at that moment.

My breathing quickened, my eyes fixed on my daughter's half naked body, and she maintained eye contact even when she positioned herself between my legs and began to suck my already burning pussy.

I should have resisted her. I should have protested and asked her to stop, but at that moment, I was surrendering all my resolve in favor of my desires.

When her tongue touched my clit, I started to wonder about her own pussy smell will be like, how her juice will taste, and if she would ever permit me to taste her. But all my thoughts vanished suddenly when she intensified her efforts and started fingering me.

Oh my god, who taught them this technique? I thought I was experienced, but I had never encountered this approach until Mom introduced it to me, may be because of shortage of knloidge of lesbian sex, I was accustomed to dicks, but sure if I found out in my younger days that lesbian sex will be that amazing, sure I would have my share of it.

Liz deliberate touches affect me directly and eliminate all my willpower.

My body was building an orgasm rapidly, then it hit me like a whirlpool.

When I reached climax, it transported me to another realm.

"Yes, yes," I heard myself crying when she increased her pace.

"Oh goodness," I exclaimed when the sensation overwhelmed my body, and again I released intensely, drenching my daughter's face and her body.

But after my orgasm faded that time, I was surrendering to exhaustion, although I wanted to have more of my daughter.

But Before I fell into a deep slumber, I felt Liz repositioning my body, and then I felt something entering my asshole gradually and smoothly.

It was a pleasant sensation that I couldn't help but smile about before losing consciousness.

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I was naked, that what I felt when I opened my eyes again.

I looked around me in the room but it was dark.

I waited for a minute till my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I found my naked mom on my left and my naked daughter on my right.

I extend my arm over sleeping Liz to get my phone to know the time, FUCK it was 1 a. m

It was the first time in more than 20 years to miss my date with Mike on 11 pm,

I felt so angry of him, why didn't he wake me up, and how I lose myself till my date passed.

I returned the phone back and tried to adjust my body to sit on the bed when I felt something weird in my ass hole.

I extended my hand under my body to find out what was in my ass when an arm stopped me and I heard my mother sleepy voice whispering,

"Keep it in your ass Jessie, your ass hole should be rusty of being out of use for long time, and you are going to need all your holes ready,"

What a fuck, how can she talk to me like that, and who will have the courage to fuck me in my ass, that what I was thinking at that moment?

But it was a pleasant weird feeling to sleep with my ass hole full, and I was too tired after my intensive massive orgasms that I had last night, so I didn't even resist my mother hands when she started to caress my body softly and kissing my nick till I fall asleep again.

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I opened my eyes feeling weird, wet, and horny, and that's when I found Liz again between my legs, licking and sucking my clit.

Fuck, it had been so long since I woke up with someone between my legs. Shit, I really missed that.

When I tried to say something, my mother came from nowhere and straddled me, then shifted her body down until I found her wet pussy on my mouth.

With no further complains, I stuck my tongue out and started to lick and suck my mother's old, well-shaved pussy. I was rewarded by her soft moans of pleasure before she started to rub her pussy on my mouth.

I was lost in my mother's taste and scent, although I wanted to look at my little hot daughter while she was licking my pussy.

Mom was moving her body faster over my mouth, caressing and squeezing her saggy tits, and I was doing a good job sucking her pussy. That's when Liz started something new with me.

She shoved one finger into my pussy, then used her other hand to move the dildo she had inserted in my ass the night before.

I inhaled deeply, feeling a new level of pleasure, but my mother gagged me when she lowered her pussy onto my mouth, reminding me of my duty towards her.

My breaths were getting higher, my body was quaking, and my legs were trembling. That's when Liz shoved another finger into my pussy. Her mouth never stopped sucking my clit, and her other hand never stopped fucking my asshole with the dildo.

Mom's moans turned to screams as she went through her orgasm, and I felt her juice in my mouth, which escalated my pleasure and sent me exploding into a new orgasm.

Yes, I mean it--my pussy exploded that time. Sucking my clit, rubbing my inner pussy, and fucking my asshole all done by my daughter while I was sucking my mother's pussy and causing her to reach her orgasm--that made my pussy explode.

My pussy wasn't like a broken fountain this time; it was like a hose, with the quantity and impetus of my juice. Liz gasped when my juice crashed into her face, and I heard her screaming, "Oh, Mom, fuck! How did you do that?"

I was about to ask her the same question. I had never reached that peak of pleasure; I had never had that kind of intense, massive orgasm. This time, I felt like I had fallen from a mountain, not just been hit by a bus, and I fell into an after-sex coma immediately.

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I opened my eyes again, not knowing what to expect this time.

Each time I awoke, I found a new surprise, but this time I felt empty. The dildo that had been in my ass was gone, and surprisingly, I missed its presence.

I heard moans but couldn't identify their source.

I closed my eyes again, trying to adjust to the light filling the room.

The sounds became clearer.

I wanted to have a long conversation with Liz, my daughter whom I realized I knew very little about.

I wanted to know how she had learned all these intimate techniques, who had taken her virginity, and why she had yielded to her brothers when she could have any man in the world.

Many questions were forming in my mind. But the impish young woman wasn't giving me a chance; every time I opened my eyes, I found her with another trick that ignited the desires in my body.

.

Although I wanted answers to my questions, I secretly hoped to have her between my legs again. But this time, to my disappointment, she wasn't there.

I opened my eyes again and could see clearly now.

In my room, I found my daughter sitting on the couch facing my bed, caressing her naked tits while her grandmother was kneeling before her.

Liz's shorts from the previous night were lowered to her ankles while Mom was sucking her pussy.

Liz established eye contact with me once she realized I was awake and spoke,

"Morning, Jessica darling. Do you like what you see?"

I adjusted my naked body to sit on the bed, but when I tried to place my feet on the floor, Liz stopped me.

"No, stay there and watch."

To my surprise, I remained motionless, my eyes fixed on the intimate scene before me.

My breathing quickened as Liz drew my mother closer, her sounds of pleasure intensifying.

I remained in place, wondering why I was following Liz's orders.

Was it an ORDER or a request? Surely it was a request--Liz wanted me to enjoy watching them. That was my rationalization.

"Yes, right there, Marie. Yes!" Liz's sounds became soft cries, and my body was getting on fire.

"Oh, yes. Please, use your mouth, bitch, for my pleasure," Liz exclaimed while Mom did her best to please her granddaughter.

My eyes widened. How had Liz become so assertive with her grandmother, and why did Mom accept such treatment? I was about to intervene when Liz said,

"Don't just stare at us, Mom. Now rub your pussy."

My right hand moved automatically, and I began to rub my naked soaked wet pussy while watching my mother with my daughter.

I wanted to stop and approach Liz, then at lease blame her for speaking to me and her grandmother in such an inappropriate manner, but my body moved of its own accord. My sounds intensified, building toward another climax.

"Continue, Jessica bitch," Liz directed through quickened breaths, never breaking eye contact with me while drawing her grandmother closer.

I gasped heavily when I heard her calling me bitch, but for my surprise her words enhanced my movement as my hands were rubbing my pussy as crazy building an orgasm through my body.

Mom was rubbing her own pussy fiercely while sucking Liz, and I continued my own efforts. Following my daughter's orders heightened my experience and intensified my orgasm.

"You're wonderful, Marie, bitch. I'm cumming," Liz began to scream while her body quivered on the couch.

Mom was screaming while reaching her own orgasm while continuing through her labored breathing,

"Join us, my bitch mom, and cum for me." Then her body began to tremble as she reached her peak.

It was overwhelming--watching my daughter with my mother while my mother reached her climax as my hand was rubbing my burning pussy harder and faster.

I heard myself crying out,

"Oh, I'm cumming too! ouuffff ohhhh"

Our sounds mingled together, filling the room that was already heavy with intimate aromas.

It took about five minutes of heavy breathing before Liz stood, adjusting her shorts and zipping them, helping her naked grandmother to her feet. Then they approached me.

Liz kissed me on the mouth and said softly,

"Good morning, Mom. Are you going to visit Dad's grave as usual?"

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An hour later, the familiar chill of the cemetery air bit at my skin as I stood before Mike's grave.

Twenty years. Twenty goddamn years I'd made this pilgrimage. But today, the ritual was fractured. Liz was with me.

My body still throbbed, a delicious ache echoing the brutal pleasure of last night and this morning.

But beneath the physical exhaustion, my soul was wide awake, screaming alive.

Blood roared in my ears, and a smile, feral and untamed, stretched across my face. I felt... reborn.

I knelt by the cold stone, the usual bouquet clutched in my hand, but the weight of Liz beside me was a seismic shift.

"Aren't you going to tell Dad?" she whispered, her voice deceptively soft, yet laced with something sharp.

"Tell him what happened, Mom? Last night? This morning?"

My head snapped towards her, a flush burning my cheeks. My eyes, wide with a sudden terror, begged her silence. As if Mike, six feet under and rotting, could somehow hear, somehow know.

I shook my head, a frantic denial, unable to meet the knowing glint in her eyes.

"Fine, I'll tell him," Liz said, her tone hardening, a steel edge replacing the softness.

A cold fist clenched in my stomach as she rose and stalked towards the grave.

Then, the words ripped from her like a raw pain.

"Well, Dad," she began, her voice ringing with a venomous triumph,

"last night I fucked your wife. She spread her legs for me, for her own goddamn daughter, deliberately. And her bitch of a mother was right there cheering us on."

My breath hitched.

"Liz, stop," I choked out, the words a pathetic whisper against the graveyard's silence.

But she was a force unleashed, her eyes locked on the cold stone.

"Mom missed your precious little holly fucking daily date for the first time in two decades, you pathetic corpse. She was alive again, Dad. Truly fucking alive. making love to real flesh, not a goddamn ghost. She was finally getting what she wanted, what she deserved, and that was just the fucking beginning."

The sheer, brutal bitterness in her voice twisted something inside me. Not anger, but a sudden, pity for this broken, angry child.

I wanted to pull her close, to soothe the rage that vibrated off her in waves. But she wasn't finished.

"We're taking her from you, motherfucker," she spat, leaning against the cold granite as if claiming it as her own.

"We're dragging our mother back from your dead, clutching grip, and you have to watch. You have to fucking watch her live."

That was it. The line shattered. She was desecrating him, my god, the only man I had ever truly loved, truly worshipped.

This insolent girl needed to be broken. The thought flared in my mind, primal and furious.

Then, she reached down and tugged at the hem of her short shorts, the movement deliberate, a blatant display.

A flash of shaved pussy, raw and exposed, pierced the sterile air. She looked directly into my eyes, a challenge blazing in their depths.

"Crawl down here, Jessica," she commanded, her voice low and husky.

"Get on your fucking knees and suck my pussy."

My breath hitched, a strangled gasp.

The audacity. The sheer, unholy disrespect. Did she honestly expect me to suck her pussy... here? On Mike's grave? The bile rose in my throat. Go to hell, you twisted little bitch. That's what I should have thought. That's what my brain screamed.

But then I was on my knees.

My body moved with a will of its own, a traitor to my horrified mind.

For a fleeting second, I thought I could still stand, could still slap that smug look off her face. But then the scent of her, musky and intoxicating, hit me, drowning out the last vestiges of reason.

And when my lips brushed against her wet, swollen folds, I was completely lost.

I was starving for that taste, a forbidden fruit I'd unknowingly craved for years.

And it didn't disappoint. It was a jolt, a raw electrical current that shot through me, leaving me dizzy and weak.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, her grip tight as she ground her slickness against my mouth. I sucked, I licked, desperate for more.

She was a live wire, humming with a frantic energy. It couldn't have lasted more than two minutes before a strangled cry ripped from her throat, shattering the graveyard's peace.

"Fuck! I'm cuming, Mom! On your face!"

And then, a torrent of hot, thick liquid flooded my mouth, coated my lips, and drenched my face.

Her body shuddered violently for what felt like an eternity, and I, a willing supplicant, didn't waste a single drop of her release. I swallowed it all, the ultimate act of submission.

When her orgasm finally subsided, and her breath came in ragged gasps, she hauled me to my feet, her eyes still glazed with the aftermath.

She pulled me into a fierce embrace, her lips crashing against mine in a desperate, hungry kiss.

I was swallowed whole. Her taste, her scent, the raw power of her need -- it consumed me.

I devoured her mouth in return, a frantic, desperate dance of tongues.

Finally, we broke apart, panting, our eyes locked in a haze of pure lust.

She smoothed down her shorts, a possessive gesture, then turned back to the cold stone.

"Goodbye, Mr. Corpse," she said, her voice thick with triumph.

"She's mine now."

Then, her arm snaked around my shoulder, possessive and firm, and together, we walked out of that graveyard, leaving the past behind us.

I surrendered completely. I didn't dare to look back.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When we walked into the kitchen, the scene felt surreal, like stepping onto a stage where the play had already begun.

Chris, Sam, Mike Jr., Mom, and Sandra were all there, gathered around the breakfast table, a tableau of domestic normalcy that felt grotesquely out of sync with the unholy act we'd just committed.

Every eye in the room snapped towards us. It wasn't just a glance; it was a visceral stare, as if they could see the taste of Liz on my lips, the lingering scent of her sex clinging to my clothes.

I felt utterly exposed, flayed alive under their collective gaze.

My face burned, a wildfire of shame and a strange, defiant thrill. It was as if they were peeling back layers of my skin, exposing the raw, pulsating truth of what had just happened.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, I saw a flicker of confusion in Chris's eyes, a dawning horror in Mom's pale face, and a tight, judgmental set to Sandra's jaw.

Mike Jr.'s expression was unreadable, a mask of something I couldn't quite decipher -- shock? Disgust? Something darker? Sam, ever the observer, simply watched, his gaze intense and probing.

The weight of their unspoken questions, their barely concealed judgment, crashed down on me.

I didn't have the first goddamn clue what to say, how to explain the unexplainable, how to bridge the chasm that had just ripped open in our family.

Before I could even form my thought, a sob tore through my chest, raw and uncontrollable. Shame, fear, and the lingering intensity of my encounter with Liz all coalesced into a tidal wave of emotion.

Blindly, I turned and fled, the sound of my ragged breathing the only thing I could hear as I ran up the stairs, seeking the false sanctuary of my room.

The image of their stunned faces, the unspoken relief in their eyes, seared itself onto the back of my eyelids.

The breakfast they were waiting for would likely never taste the same again.

. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five minutes later, my bedroom door swung open, and Liz stepped in without even knocking, with a tray in her hand.

She placed the tray on a small table in my room and said softly,

"Come on, Mom, let's have breakfast together."

I looked at her, my eyes still wet with tears, as she added with a tone that felt strangely firm yet pleading,

"Please."

I got to my feet, with heavy heart and sat beside her on the loveseat.

She threw her arm around my shoulder, pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek, and whispered,

"I love you so much, Mom. You'll never know how much we all love you."

A soft, hesitant smile touched my lips at her kind words. I wiped the lingering tears with the back of my hand, then began to eat, the food tasting like ash in my mouth before I finally asked,

"About what happened in the cemetery, Liz... that was too much for me. You insulted your father, you insulted his memory, and the worst part was that I felt utterly powerless to defend the love of my life."

Liz tightened her arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer until I could feel the warmth of her body, then said softly, her voice thick with emotion,

"Mom, I can't hide my feelings, yes. I hate my father. He left us before we were even born and, in a way, took you with him. It wasn't fair of him."

I opened my mouth to counter her twisted logic, but she rushed on,

"I know, Mom, I know it wasn't in his hands. And I know he would have loved us if he was still alive. But the fucking reality is..."

Her voice cracked, and tears welled in her eyes as she continued,

"The fucking reality is that it wasn't his fault that you're still living for his memory. Deep down, I know it was your fault, but I love you, Mom, and I just can't bring myself to blame you for being so loyal to him. But sometimes... sometimes I just need someone to blame."

I gently wiped her tears away with my hands and whispered, my own voice trembling,

"But he didn't do anything wrong, baby. It was me... it was me who couldn't move on after his sudden death."

She shook her head vehemently, still sobbing softly.

"No, Mom. You loved him, yes, I know. But you love us too. And for all these past twenty years, you've been living with us in body, but your soul was still with him. You divided your heart between him and us, and it became a constant battle between us and his memory to reclaim your spirit. And when you're locked in a struggle with someone for so long, even a ghost, you can't help but hate them."

She then stopped abruptly, jumping to her feet. She began to talk nervously, her hands gesturing wildly as she paced.

"And I needed to be sure... I needed to be absolutely sure that you prefer us over him. And that's why I ordered you to suck my pussy right under his dead nose. And I knew you would obey me blindly because it's your nature. You love to be controlled by someone you love and trust. So stop blaming yourself, Mom, or I swear I'll ask my brothers to take turns on you right there, and again, you won't be able to refuse."

To my surprise, the image of me kneeling down at Mike's gravestone while my children took turns on me sent a shiver down my spine, a wave of thrill washing over me

Liz leaned forward then, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, a knowing smirk playing on hers.

"You see? The idea turned you on, Mom. It's your nature, and you can't fight it. So you will have to give in and submit completely to me, to your daughter, the one who worships you and will never truly hurt you."

I was lost in the haze of her panting breaths, her shocking words, her lingering kiss. My mind felt blank, yet a strange sense of inevitability washed over me.

I couldn't deny that submitting to her this morning felt, in that moment, like the only possible decision. My body seemed to be acting on its own accord, a fire slowly burnt within me. But now, as the initial shock began to recede, a flicker of common sense took a faint control within me. I couldn't simply let my daughter call me a whore and use me whenever she pleased.

A storm raged in my mind, and it must have been visible on my face because Liz said, as she settled back beside me and resumed her breakfast,

"Don't you want to know how I started fucking my brother began, Mom?"

Her words struck me like a physical blow, instantly seizing my full attention. I nodded slowly, still panting slightly, trying to regain control over the storm of thoughts in my head

"You want to know what happened, Mom? Sure, because you weren't here. I won't blame you, but you'll see just how absent you were when you hear my story."

She took a deep breath, the air catching in her throat before she continued.

"Mike and I were born orphans, Mom. Our dad died before we were born, and our mom followed him soon after. So, we depended on Sandra and our older brothers, Chris and Sam."

The words hit me like a knife to the heart. Id that what they all think?!, I had been gone when Mike died!!!, but I knew she was right.

She paused her eating, and the raw bitterness in her voice was palpable as she went on,

"We always turned to Sam and Chris for every little details in our lives. They always told us not to disturb you, so that's just how it was. The good news was always reserved for you, and the troubles fell on Sam and Chris."

A single tear escaped Liz's eye as she continued, her voice trembling slightly.

"In high school, I moved through life like a queen, with Chris on my right, Sam on my left, and Mike's protective shadow looming behind me. No one could get close, not even the teachers or the headmaster herself. I was the untouchable goddess of the school."

Tears started to silently track down her cheeks as she confessed,

"But I felt suffocated, overprotected. Everyone just called me Chris and Sam's little sister, or Mike twin, boys avoided me like the plague, terrified of incurring my brothers' wrath, and even the girls only approached me hoping to get closer to them. I felt invisible, like I was nothing more than their appendage. I desperately wanted to be seen for myself."

She wiped away her tears with a determined swipe of her hand, then went on,

"I only started to feel like I had a real sense of identity when I became a professional swimmer and began traveling abroad for championships."

She paused to take a shaky breath, then continued,

"But my rebellious nature, that constant itch for more, pushed me to crave real freedom, but again, none of my so-called friends helped, not wanting to risk upsetting my big brothers, that's when the resentment started to fester, and I began to hate all three of them."

My eyes widened in disbelief and a dawning horror. Where have I been? My daughter had been fighting a battle for her own identity, and I had been drowning in my own grief, oblivious to her struggle. The bitterness in her voice was now a sharp, unmistakable edge as she spoke.

"Yes, Mom, I hated them. And I hated you for not being there, truly there, when I desperately needed you. Even when I only won a bronze medal at the London Olympics and felt like my entire world was falling, my brothers tried to placate me, to convince me to keep going, to keep working hard, promising I'd win gold next time, but none of their well-meaning words could stop the bitter resentment from growing."

She wiped her tears once more, a gesture of lingering pain.

"I remember when Chris, in his well-meaning way, told me I was the only one in the family who'd ever competed in the Olympics because the three of them were too young to join our national teams in volleyball or basketball. He said that made me special, that they hadn't chosen me just because I was their sister, but because I was Elizabeth, the state champion."

Suddenly, Liz buried her face in my chest, her body wracked with sobs as she confessed through her tears,

"Yes, Mom, I hated my brothers, the very ones who took care of me, who were always my support in every trouble. And now... now I see they knew how I felt back then, but they never stopped loving me or helping me."

I gently lifted her face, my own heart aching, and kissed her tear-stained lips softly, while wiping her wet cheeks with my hands.

I desperately wanted to offer some comforting words, but my mouth was dry, and the platitudes felt hollow before they could even form.

Liz continued, her voice thick with unshed tears,

"And finally, I turned eighteen, and I won four glorious gold medals at the Rio Olympics. That's when life finally started to open up for me. I became a national treasure, a public figure in my own right. Everyone was chasing after just one glance, and the media went absolutely crazy with the news. Finally, I wasn't just known as 'Chris and Sam's little sister' anymore. I was Elizabeth."

She paused again, a bitter undertone creeping back into her voice.

"And at that time... I had my first and only boyfriend Paul."

My eyes widened in genuine surprise--this was the first time I was hearing that Liz had ever had a boyfriend. I leaned forward, listening intently to the next painful revelation.

"You know how I met him? Through Tinder. Again, no one in our suffocating little town could approach me because of my intimidating brothers. He was from another town entirely. After talking to him online for a while, he said he wanted to come visit me."

The bitterness in her voice was sharp as she continued her story.

"He told me he'd been invited to a pool party in our town with some of his friends and wanted me to join him. And I did."

"The party was at one of my friend's houses, and all my familiar friends were there. They were so excited because I was there--Liz, the famous Liz,"

She said, fresh tears welling in her eyes.

"After about an hour, things started to get heated. Some of the girls took off their bikini tops, walking around with their naked breasts. I was just in my bikini, and I refused to follow them, after all, I was a public figure, and one photo of me without a top could cause a massive scandal."

I smiled proudly when I heard her, although what she was going through she still could have the common sense.

She paused, taking a deep, steadying breath, then continued,

"Paul tried to convince me to take my bikini top off, but I firmly refused. He was clearly disappointed, but then he suggested we talk in private. Of course, I knew exactly what kind of 'talk' he had in mind, and honestly I wanted that too,"

Another deep breath, and she confessed,

"I was over eighteen and had never been touched by a bo, I wanted to feel wanted, to feel desired. so when Paul started kissing me, I kissed him back immediately. Of course, I was a terrible kisser, it was my very first kiss, but Paul was surprisingly patient with me, gently guiding me until we found a rhythm together."

I started to feel worried, as I thought I knew how this will end, but I didn't comment although my eyes were wide in horror, then she continued

"So, I didn't mind when his hands started to caress my breasts over my bikini top, or even when he boldly slipped both hands under my bikini bottoms, squeezing my butt cheeks. On the contrary, I was getting incredibly horny and felt a strange, unfamiliar pleasure. But when he tried to unhook my bikini top, I stopped him, it wasn't part of my plan to get naked in public or even have sex with him on our first date."

My heart fall in my knees when she burst into fresh tears again as she spoke, her voice trembling with the remembered fear.

"Paul got mad when I refused to take off my bikini top, he tried to force it, but I resisted with all my strength, and suddenly, I found myself surrounded by three of his friends, watching, waiting like vultures for the moment their friend would take the virginity of the 'popular Liz.' And God knows what they were planning for me next. I tried to scream, but Paul cruelly gagged me with his hand, then, with the help of his friends, they tried to drag me towards an empty room."

I stretched my hand holding her arm trying to calm her down

A soft, fragile smile finally tugged at the corners of her lips, though the tears continued to flow unchecked.

"They didn't realize I'm an athlete, my body isn't just made of soft flesh, No it was made honed muscle, when they thought they had complete control over me, I surprised them all, I violently pushed Paul away, then, fueled by adrenaline and terror, I ran to the very same empty room they'd intended to drag me to and slammed the door shut, locking it firmly behind me. They tried to break it down, their angry shouts echoing through the thin wood, but I was safe even for a little while."

My breaths were coming in shallows, god where was I while my daughter was going through all of these.

A choked laugh escaped her, as she continued, the tears never ceasing their relentless flow.

"As my phone was in my purse beside the pool, I frantically used the landline in the room and called Chris, and while Paul and his friends desperately tried their best to kick the door in, I begged him, my voice cracking with fear, to help me. I still don't know how he managed it, but in what felt like mere seconds, just five minutes at most, I heard his familiar voice from the other side of the door, telling me to open it. I practically flew to the door and fumbled with the lock. He was there, like a real-life guardian angel, his arms wide open, and I threw myself into his protective embrace."

Her eyes softened as she spoke again, a dreamy tone coloring her voice.

"He simply told me to collect my things and get dressed, and leave the horrifying party. It was as though nothing had happened. In less than five minutes, I was safely in his car, my head resting on his solid shoulder, tears drenching his clothes as he calmly tried to soothe my shattered nerves."

I couldn't help but smiling proudly of my son, I was hearing legends about Chris, the same Chris that I slapped him last night right in front of his family.

She laughed again, a faint, shaky sound tinged with lingering trauma.

"When I finally managed to ask him what happened to Paul and his friends, he just said they ran off like frightened rats the moment they saw him coming. It was like they'd encountered a real-life superhero. At over six feet tall, with his impressive muscles, it must have been utterly terrifying for them. I couldn't help but feel a tiny of pity for their foolishness. They quickly realized they were no match for my big brother, the 'Hulk,' when he came to my rescue."

Her tone softened again, now filled with a deep sense of gratitude and love.

"He never spoke to me about what happened again, never blamed me, never made me feel ashamed, and it was then, in that profound silence and unwavering support, that I realized the depth of my love for him and for my other brothers. The hatred I felt before was a twisted knot of frustration and longing, because deep down, I knew I could never have them as lovers. And as soon as that painful truth fully registered, a dangerous seed of change began to take root."

She bit her lower lip, a suggestive tremor running through her body, and her hand instinctively moved between her legs as she confessed,

"So, that very night, I made a decision. My brothers would be my lovers, and when the clock finally struck eleven, and I was certain you were lost in your own world with your dead hubby, I stripped naked and went to Chris's room."

My breaths became heavier, I was listening to her with my full attention, relief washed over me after the hard part passed and my daughter was safe, and now the good part will start.

THE GOOD PART, is that how I think now about my children incestuous relationship.

She bit her bottom lip again, and stated to rub her pussy over her shorts as she continued,

"Chris was with Sam, as usual, in Chris's room. They were both surprised, shocked speechless when I stepped naked on the bed room before them, and I was completely naked, they tried to calm me down, their voices laced with confusion, but I was still so incredibly horny from that stolen first kiss earlier that night. And for the first time, my mind fiercely agreed with the insistent demands of my body--this felt... right. So, while they were still trying to reason with me, I was already on my knees, boldly caressing Chris's hard cock through his boxers, they were saying things about that will change everything between us and other things that I didn't recognize, my focus was on how to get under Chris panties, so impatiently I tugged his boxers down, and even before he could act or understand what was happing, his thick cock was in my eager mouth."

I was listening while hardly could breaths, my pussy begin to twitch and felt my nipples trying to pop out of my nightgown.

Liz abruptly unzipped her shorts, and tugged them down, revealing her slick pussy, then, her eyes locking with mine, she commanded,

"Suck my pussy, Jessica, babe."

In an instant, as if I had been subconsciously waiting for this order, I was on my knees before her, my mouth opening instinctively as I began to lick and suck her naked, wet pussy.

"Ouuufff, fuck, I needed that... ouufff..."

She moaned in raw pleasure, her hand coming down to tap impatiently on my head, as if I was an obedient pet.

Then, she spread her legs wider, offering me complete access to her throbbing pussy.

I didn't hesitate, eagerly plunging my tongue deep inside her, my lips greedily sucking on her swollen clit.

Liz was pulling my head closer to her pussy but she meant to continue her story,

"Ouuuff, when my brothers finally understood that I wouldn't take no for an answer, they exchanged a silent look. Then Chris smoothly lifted my naked body and gently placed me on the bed. And before I could even protest at being denied his cock, his face was already buried between my legs, his tongue and lips working a frantic magic on my own needy pussy. Ohhh, Mom... ouuufff... keep going..."

Liz was recounting her story in short, sharp breaths, and the explicit details were arousing me.

It seemed the memory held a potent pleasure for her as well, as she casually took off her crop top and began to caress her bare breasts with both hands, her breathing still ragged as she continued,

"I was already incredibly horny, but the forbidden fantasy of being intimately touched by my big brother was pushing me to the edge of another world. My body was building towards an explosive orgasm in no time, but before I could reach that peak, I felt Sam's thick cock slide into my mouth as he straddled my chest. And the moment his cock filled me, my massive orgasm was doubled, the taboo thrill of being double-teamed by my own brothers sent me immediately to the edge Ouuuff... harder, bitch... ouuufff..."

I was shamelessly caressing her thighs while my mouth was glued to her slick pussy, my own body began to cry desperately for attention, I tried to recall any forgotten techniques of pleasuring a woman, acutely aware of my inexperience.

Then Liz continued her shocking tale,

"Sam pulled his cock out just as my own intense orgasm began to crest, giving me those precious few moments to scream and buck wildly on the bed, then, the moment the intense pleasure began to fade, he shoved it back into my eager mouth. He then asked me, his voice surprisingly gentle, if I was still a virgin. I could only nod, my body still trembling. Meanwhile, Chris's relentless mouth never left my pussy, and then, with agonizing slowness, he carefully inserted one finger inside me, beginning to rhythmically rub my inner pussy. Ouuufff... STOP!"

She barked the command so suddenly that I instinctively stopped sucking her pussy, my head snapping up to look at her in confusion.

Her gaze was fixed on me, her tone firm and demanding.

"You need to learn how to properly suck a woman's pussy, you don't deserve to suck me. Get back beside me."

My eyes widened at her harsh words, a sting of humiliation mixing with my arousal, but to my own surprise, I obeyed her command without question, awkwardly returning to sit beside her on the loveseat, a confusing cocktail of frustration and disappointment churning within me.

She casually began to rub her clit, then continued her story as if the abrupt interruption hadn't occurred.

"When Chris's finger first slid inside me, I instinctively thought he was going to take my virginity right then and there with just his finger, and I didn't like that idea at all. It wasn't part of my carefully constructed plan to lose my virginity to someone's finger, I desperately wanted to tell him to stop, but my mouth was still gagged by Sam's insistent cock, then, I felt another finger slide inside me, stretching me wider. Ouuuffff... I really need to be properly sucked..."

She abruptly picked up her phone, quickly dialed a number, and I heard her say, her voice sharp with demand,

"Marie, get to Mom's room. I want you here naked now,"

Then she ended the call without waiting for a response before continuing her story,

"I was teetering on the edge of pure pleasure, my mind and willpower rapidly dissolving, and then, inevitably, my body began to convulse again, and to my utter surprise, my own slick juice exploded out of my pussy, drenching Chris's face. My scream of release echoed through the room the moment Sam finally pulled his thick cock from my mouth."

The door creaked open, and my own naked mother stood hesitantly in the doorway.

Liz simply pointed a manicured finger at her own still-wet pussy, and Mom, without a word or a flicker of hesitation, immediately knelt down and began to hungrily suck her granddaughter's swollen flesh.

"YES, suck it, my good little bitch, you're my favorite sucker, Marie... ouuuffff..." Liz moaned deeply, then her gaze flicked to me.

"Take off those fucking panties and start rubbing your own dirty pussy."

My heart hammered against my ribs, my breath catching in my throat.

To my own surprise, Liz's crude, commanding words were igniting a wild fire within me.

My hands trembled as I quickly tugged down my panties and spread my legs, beginning to rub my own aching pussy.

"In less than ten frantic minutes,"

Liz continued, her voice thick with ecstasy,

"Chris and Sam relentlessly pushed me to three earth-shattering orgasms, I felt more alive in those stolen moments than I ever had in my entire life, even though my body was completely exhausted. Then Chris, after gently withdrawing his fingers from my ravaged pussy, told me that they had done that to me because I was so horny, and they would wait for me again tomorrow night. If I still wanted to go all the way, they would do it for me, but they wanted me to clear my head, to truly consider the consequences of a decision that would change everything between us. Ouuuhhh... FUCK... harder, Marie... ouuufffff... I'm almost there..."

She punctuated her story by grabbing Mom roughly by the hair, forcefully pulling her face even closer to her pussy, while I sat there, barely breathing, trying to process the shocking intimacy my sons had shared with their sister.

"I was too utterly spent to reply, my body languishing in a blissful hell while my mind floated somewhere in the heavens. So, I simply responded with a small, dazed smile. Then Chris, with surprising tenderness, easily lifted my limp body into his strong arms and carried me to my own room, gently placing me on my bed. I fell asleep the instant my head hit the pillow. Ouuufff... yes... yes, I'm cuming, Grandma... ouuufff..."

She suddenly screamed, her legs beginning to tremble violently, her body arching rigidly before she came, her orgasm spraying onto my mother's face.

My body was building his own orgasm rapidly, when Liz casually kicked Mom's limp body with her foot, then said through ragged breaths,

"Go finish that bitch."

Mom shifted her naked body immediately, a strange obedience in her movements, and buried her face between my legs, her mouth latching onto my swollen flesh.

Meanwhile, Liz pushed herself to her feet, kicking her discarded shorts away, and stood naked before my hungry eyes. That single, brazen act was enough to send me immidiatley over the edge.

"Ouuuh God, I'm couing, Mom... ouuufffff..."

It took a full minute for the intense waves of my orgasm to subside, and for my breathing to return to normal., then, as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred, Liz said, her tone nonchalant,

"Next night, I went naked to Chris's room again, and this time Mike was there too, not just Sam. All three of them were only in their boxers, as if they had been expecting me. The sight of the three of them together made my legs tremble uncontrollably, and they betrayed me, buckling beneath me. I collapsed onto the floor, the sheer reality of being with these hulking figures at the same time, while still technically a virgin, both terrified and thrilled me in equal measure. But once again, Chris, my ever-present guardian angel, easily lifted me from the floor and gently placed me on the bed, his voice a soothing reassurance that no one would hurt me, that their only intention was to give me pure pleasure."

Just at that moment, Sandra stepped into the room. Liz immediately sprang to her feet, then pointed imperiously at me and then at my mother, gesturing for us to follow her.

Mom obeyed almost instantly, her movements strangely compliant, but I remained stuck in my place

Mom stood beside Liz by the door, Liz waiting with an air of expectation for me to obey her unspoken command. But my legs glued to the floor refusing to move.

A fierce internal battle raged within me: the undeniable thrill of submitting to my daughter's will warred with the last vestiges of my dignity, the sheer absurdity of following her naked out of my own bedroom.

My sons were downstairs. The thought of stepping into the living room completely naked before them was unthinkable. No, that will not happen.

Yet, a primal part of me, yearned to follow Liz, even if it led straight to hell.

Until that moment, I hadn't truly explored the depth of my own submissiveness.

Had I inherited this from Mom? No one had ever treated me with such blatant disregard, such casual humiliation, and I had never felt that powerless as I did in Liz's presence.

A disturbing memory surfaced: the illicit thrill I had experienced when I slept with Mike's coach, the way he had treated me like a cheap whore.

At the time, I had rationalized it as simply the shock of sleeping with someone other than Mike for the first time. Now, a chilling realization dawned: perhaps it wasn't just the novelty, but a darker aspect of my own nature.

But when Liz pointed her fingertip at me again, my legs began to move automatically, a terrifying obedience overriding my conscious will. My fucking mind screamed for me to stop.

My body began to tremble again as Liz walked back towards me, her expression unreadable.

I braced myself for her anger, terrified of her potential wrath. But she astonished me by taking my naked body into a warm, deep hug.

A jolt of electricity shot through me as her hard nipples pressed against mine, and her hands squeezed my bare buttocks.

I was almost breathless when she finally broke the embrace, her gaze locking intensely with mine, then she whispered, her voice surprisingly gentle,

"Mom, I know how you feel. But you need to trust me that I would never hurt you. I could force you to follow me, treat you like absolute shit, but I would never do that to you because... I love you."

My eyes widened, my mouth suddenly dry. I didn't know whether to feel relief at her unexpected tenderness or outrage at her underline threats, but overriding everything was a potent wave of arousal. Her words, even these gentler ones, were fueling a dangerous heat within me. Am I like Mom? Do I secretly crave this humiliation? No... no way.

Liz continued, her voice regaining its earlier commanding edge,

"So, when I point for you to follow me, you will obey like a good girl, okay, Mom?"

Against my better judgment, a small, shameful nod escaped me. What a fucked up person I am.

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I stepped into the living room with my legs trembling, not just from the shock of seeing my naked mother pleasuring herself, but also from the apprehension of potentially finding my sons there. My naked mother was on the sofa her legs wide open while her hands were rubbing her pussy.

God are they spend all their days pleasuring themselves, or just the hornies that the felt was because of me, do I arouse them that much?

Before I could fully process the scene, Liz stepped up behind me and delivered a sharp spank to my bare ass leaving a red handprint instantly on my pale skin.

I gasped at the stinging sensation, but a pervert thrill shot through me, intensifying my already heightened arousal.

"Come on, Jessi baby,"

Liz commanded, her voice laced with expectation.

"Suck your mother's pussy."

Without conscious thought, my body obeyed.

I instinctively dropped to my knees before my mother, burying my face between her legs and greedily lapping at her swollen clit.

"You will follow Marie's instructions,"

Liz stated, her tone brooking no argument.

"You need to learn how to properly please a woman's pussy,"

she added as my mother began to moan softly beneath my ministrations.

As I hungrily licked and sucked at my mother's clit, Liz moved to sit beside her, then she said,

"I knew you were expecting your sons to be here, but Mike Jr. has gone off to college, and Sam and Chris are taking care of your shop," she said casually.

The mention of my shop jolted me momentarily out of my aroused stupor.

I paused in my task, the implications of Liz's words beginning to sink in.

They're not here? Why not? But before I could dive deeply into my thoughts, Liz's hand clamped onto my head, firmly pulling my face back towards my grandmother's waiting pussy.

"Don't ever forget your task, bitch,"

Liz hissed, her voice suddenly hard.

The bold insult sent a jolt through me.

I gasped at the unexpected insult, but to my own surprise, lthough I shouln't get surprised any more of my reactions to humiliation, my response was not anger or offense, but a surge of even greater arousal.

I found myself licking Mom's pussy faster and harder, driven by a strange mix of humiliation and desire, while my own pussy throbbed with increasing intensity, and my body felt like it was consumed by an inner fire.

"Yes, baby, just like that,"

Mom moaned, her voice thick with pleasure.

"Ouffff, you're driving me crazy."

I focused intently on the task at hand, my tongue working diligently against her sensitive flesh, trying to recall the way Mom had pleasured Liz earlier.

I concentrated on her escalating moans, letting them guide my actions, while Liz continued her unsettling story.

"They wanted to stay at home, wanted their share of your body, but they all know that you are mine now, they will never get between your legs until I decide to share you."

Her dirty talk was an insidious poison, flooding my veins with a potent lust that bordered on madness.

My breath came in ragged gasps, and I struggled to maintain the frantic pace, the forbidden image of my sons taking their turn on me flashing vividly behind my eyelids, pushing me closer to the edge.

I paused briefly, gasping for air, but before I could fully recover, Liz knelt beside me and delivered another sharp, stinging spank to my ass.

The sudden pain shot through my body, bringing tears to my eyes, but instead of stopping me, it acted as a bizarre catalyst, spurring me on with renewed fervor.

I resumed licking Mom's engorged clit with a desperate eagerness.

"Get on your fours and keep sucking,"

Liz commanded, her voice was even harsher and harder

I obeyed without question, shifting onto my hands and knees, even though the new position made licking Mom's pussy more physically challenging.

A wave of humiliation washed over me -- I felt degraded, like a dog abjectly licking its owner's hand. Yet, to my own perverse astonishment, the humiliation only served to make me hotter, my pussy throbbing with a desperate need.

"That's what you deserve when you forget your task,"

Liz taunted, her voice laced with a cruel satisfaction.

My hand instinctively reached down to rub my aching pussy, desperate for some small measure of release, but Liz's hand shot out and delivered another sharp slap to my exposed rear.

"Don't touch your dirty pussy until I say so. Ouufff you really need to learn discipline," she scolded, her tone cold.

I returned my trembling hand to the floor, frustration and a simmering resentment warring with the overwhelming desire that coursed through me.

Mom, sensing my distress, lowered herself slightly, pulling my head even closer to her wet, swollen pussy.

"Suck my pussy lips and lick my clit," she instructed between ragged moans, her voice thick with approaching orgasm.

I followed her orders without hesitation, my mouth working eagerly against her slick flesh. Mom's moans grew louder, more frantic, and then I felt something hard and rubbery pressing insistently against my asshole.

A flicker of fear shot through me.

I wanted to look back to see what it was, but the fear of another sharp punishment kept my face buried between Mom's legs.

The rubber object -- a dildo -- slowly, began to penetrate me, sending a sharp wave of unexpected pain through my body.

I gasped, a muffled sound against Mom's flesh, but I kept licking and sucking, my body locked in a strange obedience.

The dildo moved slowly at first, a stretching, uncomfortable pressure, then, with a sudden shift, the rhythm increased, the initial pain giving way to a bizarre, familiar pleasure that mingled with the humiliation and the desperate need.

My legs began to tremble uncontrollably, and my arms shook as I struggled to maintain my position, my head still bobbing rhythmically against Mom's pussy. Mom and I screamed in unison as simultaneous orgasms ripped through our bodies.

Mom's hands gripped my hair, pulling my face even closer, drenching my face and mouth with her slick, fragrant juices as I panted for breath, my own release still echoing through my body. The dildo never stopped its relentless thrusting.

Then, with a casual shift, Liz took Mom's place, her hand firmly pulling my head towards her own wet, throbbing pussy.

"Finish me," she demanded, her voice thick with spent passion.

I repeated my actions, my mouth now intimately familiar with the taste and texture of her pussy licking and sucking with a desperate urgency.

But my mind was racing, a chaotic whirlwind of sensation and confusion. Who... who is fucking me? The dildo was suddenly and unceremoniously yanked out, leaving a strange, hollow emptiness in its wake. But the relief was fleeting, as it was immediately and forcefully thrust back inside my pussy, deeper this time.

A muffled scream escaped my lips, muffled against the soft folds of Liz's pussy.

Behind me, I heard soft, feminine gasps, and a chilling realization washed over me: it was Sandra, my children's former babysitter.

The perverse thought of her fucking me like this, invading my body with such brutal intimacy, pushed me over the edge.

Another intense orgasm ripped through me, my own juices leaking out and mingling with theirs. Liz held my head firmly against her, forcing me to continue sucking her as she exploded her own release into my mouth, her body shuddering violently above me.

Exhausted, utterly spent, I finally collapsed to the floor as the dildo was withdrawn, leaving a lingering ache.

My body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming. The room spun around me, the edges blurring, and then, mercifully, darkness claimed me, my consciousness overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the experience.