Incestuous Harem's Passion
(An Incestuous Harem Story)
Chapter Sixteen: Incestuous Passions Arrested
Note: Thanks to wrc264 for beta reading this!
April 11th, 2027 – Isaac Nicholson
Catherine dragged me down the hallway. We were both in our uniforms, blue pants and shirts, gun belts on. We'd just left the DA's office. We were in the Yolo County Superior Courthouse in the heart of Sacramento. She looked up and down the corridor. Now one was present.
She pulled me into the men's room, this wild look on her face.
“What are you doing?” I asked my younger sister. She was a cop, like me. Twenty-five. Her black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her face cute with just a light amount of makeup on. “Cat?”
“Need you,” she moaned, pulling me to the last stall. The handicap one.
“Here?” I demanded.
“We're screwing them over, and we're not even better,” she said, this pain in her eyes. “We're just as guilty as they are. What are we even doing?”
“Our job,” I groaned as she yanked me into the stall. I slammed it closed behind her. Locked it.
I cupped her face and kissed her hard on the lips. This was insane. We could get caught. We should never have crossed that line into incest. Clint fucking Elliston and his women had messed with our minds. Got us all aroused and then gave us that damning evidence to bury his ass. Now here I was, kissing my sister.
Was she trying to get us caught? I felt bad about turning them in after what we did, but it was our job. They broke the law.
We broke the law.
Were breaking the law!
I thrust my tongue into my little sister's mouth. Our tongues dueled. Her fingers raked down my body to my belt. She fumbled at the fastener. She undid it, ripping my heavy belt holding my gun and gear on it. She let it hit the floor with a clatter, her lips so warm and sweet on mine.
Last night blazed through my mind. We'd swore to never do it again. Couldn't ever do it again.
Her fingers ran through my hair. People could walk in and catch us. And as if thinking that had summoned them, the door creaked open. A man walked in as we kissed. My hands slid down, cupping my sister's ass through her pants. I squeezed her. Groped her. The man let out a sigh as he pissed.
My sister kept her lips on mine as she shoved her hands to her own gun belt. Popped it open. Ripped it off. Dropped it to the floor. My hands squeezed her rump. I dug my fingers into her ass, my cock so hard. I humped against her.
My sweet little sister.
Her hands attacked my pants. She unfastened them. Zipper rasped. The man washed his hands, oblivious to the crime we committed. My sister shoved her hand inside my pants. She squeezed my cock. She held me tight, her tongue dancing with mine.
I loved it. I savored every moment of her kissing me. She shoved my trousers down off my hips, her hands grabbing my cock. She squeezed and kneaded me through my boxers, stroking me up and down. Pleasure flowed through me.
She groaned into our kiss.
The hand blow dryer whirled on. The hot air blew over the man's hands. He dried himself off as my sister shoved down my boxers next. She stroked me in her hands then she broke the kiss. She slid down to her knees.
Sucked me into her mouth.
I fought the urge to moan her name, a bead of sweat trickling down my brow. I was so aware of the man drying his hands. Then he left. I let out an explosive moan, the pleasure surging down my cock. Her lips slid up and down the shaft, her warm, wet tongue dancing around it.
“Jesus fuck, Cat,” I panted, my chest rising and falling. The bulletproof vest I wore beneath my shirt felt so constrictive. “What has gotten into you.”
She popped her mouth off my cock. “This!” She licked the bottom of my cock up to the tip, sending a jolt of pleasure shooting down my shaft when she caressed the pink crown. “Or it will be.”
She popped up to her feet and spun around. She braced her hands against the wall over the toilet and wiggled her ass. It was cute even through the unflattering trousers she wore. I groaned and shot my hands around her.
The door opened.
I ripped at the fly of her pants. Fastener popped open. Zipper rasped down. I yanked her pants off her hips and down her thighs, not caring that we could get caught. No, that made this more exciting. I tugged down her pants then her white panties. I ripped those off hard and exposed that gorgeous ass and her shaved pussy.
Juices beaded on them. She was soaked. I wanted to eat her, but...
We didn't have that long. We were on a break.
“Shit,” I groaned and lined my cock at my sister's pussy. She looked over her shoulder, this wild delight burning in her eyes. She wiggled that ass, begging me to slide into her and fuck her hard. I was so ready for it.
I pressed my cock into the folds of her pussy. She bit her lower lip, stifling her moan as her labia spread around my dick. Those engorged petals swallowed my tip. My crown and then my shaft vanished into my sister's twat.
In the courthouse.
Surrounded by judges, lawyers, cops, and juries.
Her tight, hot cunt squeezed about me. I shuddered as I went deeper and deeper. Her back arched. She didn't moan, fighting to keep in her passion. I knew I was. Her silky snatch massaged me. My balls twitched. Delight burned in her hazel eyes.
I bottomed out in her and a second man entered the restroom, talking with the first. Their footsteps echoed. I shuddered, bottoming out in my sister. My black bush rubbed into her pale skin. Her juices trickled out onto my balls.
I drew back. Two people caught up in their illicit fucking. Two people too lost to their incestuous passion.
I thrust into her. Hard. My balls cracked into her flesh. My crotch smacked into her. My uniform rustled around me. My badge gleamed in the light, flashing up on my chest. My sister's snatch gripped me as I pounded her. She lowered her head, letting out just the smallest whimper.
I grabbed her ponytail. I gripped her silky hair in a tight grip as I thrust my cock into her incestuous depths. The pleasure surged down my shaft. A taboo rush to do this in such a public way. A drug screaming through my veins, soothing that acidic guilt churning in my stomach.
We were no better than Clint and his women.
Her hips wiggled from side to side. She stirred her cunt around my cock, massaging me. The silky grip built and built the pressure around her cock. I squeezed my hand about her hair as I slammed into her, wanting to moan out all the words brimming in me.
To tell my little sister how hot her pussy felt.
How silky her twat was about my dick.
How much I wanted to cum in her.
Just spurt my jizz into her.
She rotated her hips. Her butt-cheeks jiggled from the impact. The bathroom door opened, closed. Men came in and out, oblivious to the crime we committed. To the wild incest blazing in the bathroom. My sister whimpered, keeping it low. Exciting. Clothing rusted. Flesh smacked flesh.
Her tart musk rose in the air.
The scent of her passion-filled my nose, driving my hips forward. The ache grew. Her cunt squeezed about my cock. The friction blazed in me. The wild heat that would have me spurting my jizz into her snatch. Just firing it all into her.
Blast after blast of spunk that would fill her to the brim. It was incredible to experience. To revel in this delight. I groaned as I pumped away at her. I slammed to the hilt in her again and again. My sister's twat brought me to the brink.
I slammed into her.
She clapped a hand over her mouth and squealed.
“Cat!” I groaned as her pussy convulsed around me.
Her hot cunt massaged my dick. Her juicy twat writhed and spasmed around me. I plunged into her, reveling in her passion. She moaned into her hand, muffling it from the man using the urinal. He could be a cop. Someone that should be arresting us.
“Fuck,” I groaned as I drew back, her pussy sucking at my dick.
She hungered for my cum.
My balls smacked into her clit. She moaned into her hand. I yanked on her ponytail, hauling her head back. With a growl, I erupted into my little sister's hungry snatch. I spurted blast after blast of jizz into her twat.
It was incredible. A rush like no other. Surrounded by the justice system that would condemn us, I flooded my sister's twat with my incestuous seed. No protection. No birth control. My raw cock unloaded into her juicy snatch.
She moaned louder. Her cunt spasmed harder.
“Yes,” I groaned, trembling there as the pleasure slammed into my mind.
My veins burned with our illicit passion. My balls tensed, unloading every drop into her. She groaned. Moaned. Her hand muffled her passion. She looked over her shoulder at me, her hazel eyes glossy with passion.
I spurted the last blast into her.
“Shit,” I muttered and stepped back. I almost tripped on my pants bunched around my ankle.
My cock popped out, my cum bubbling out of her twat.
“Mmm,” she purred, hand falling from her mouth. “I needed that.”
“Yeah,” I panted. “Shit, we can't do this.”
“No, we can't,” she said, and I knew we'd do it again and again. It felt too amazing. The best sex of my life. “Tonight.”
“Every fucking night,” I groaned and hauled up my boxers.
I was so screwed. So damned screwed.
That thought screamed through my mind as I sat in Judge Coburn's office. The stunned look on the older man's face would have made his hair go white if it wasn't already mostly there. He shifted and then glanced at the photo of his daughter, Tammy. He had her late in life. From his second wife, who died a decade or more ago.
“I just...” He looked up to me and then to my superior in the District Attorney's office. “You really have this Clint Elliston nailed this badly, Ed?”
“That we do, your honor,” Ed Thomas said. He looked like a ten-year-old boy than a man in his forties. He had a grin ear to ear. This was the case that would win him election to the DA's post in a year. It would bring national attention.
This case would ripple out through the world. It would snag up others outside of the Elliston family. Like me. My life was over. I was so fucked the moment the investigation reached the Lady's Touch Massage Parlor and they realized I was one of the women who attended there. Someone would talk about the Campo sisters having sex with their clients.
And encouraging their clients to commit incest. Like they had with me and my daughter.
“You'll get your warrants,” the judge said, his voice tight. “I'll have my clerk draw them up and get them signed and to you as fast as possible.”
“Thanks, your honor,” said Ed, standing up and extending his hand. They shook.
“Your honor,” I said, my voice faint, my heart screaming.
Ed was all grins outside the judge's office. “We're going to do it, Cruzita. Going to nail him. Finally.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. For the last five months, I'd held onto a small hope that Clint had covered his tracks enough, but to just give the undercover cops the incriminating evidence last night... He was done. Blood tests would be taken to prove that the children were all his, and that they were all biologically related. Incest.
We found Detectives Tucker and Savage sitting in the conference room with the case files spread out before them. The other two cops, the undercover ones, weren't here. Nelson looked up, his eyes blazing.
“Judge Coburn is ginning up the warrants as we speak,” Ed said, marching with confidence around the table. “We're burying them today.”
Detective Nelson clapped his hands together. The much younger Detective Savage laughed in delight.
The door opened and the two undercover cops, a brother and sister in the department, strode in, the older Officer Nicholson adjusting his uniform, his face flushed.
“We got the warrants,” Nelson said, standing up. He thrust his hand out and shook Isaac's. “You and your sister nailed their asses. Great job.”
“Thanks,” Isaac said. He looked like a man hit in the face with the full weight of history.
Clinton “Clint” Elliston II
I sat in my office at the small law firm I worked for, Reenburg Law. I was an associate to Elisabet Reenburg, an experienced and well-respected attorney in Sacramento. Wife of Senator William Reenburg and in an incestuous relationship with her son and daughter, a pair who went to my college.
It was why I trusted Elisabet to help me legalize bigamy and incest. She had as much reason as me. Her third child was her son's. If that ever got out, she would be finished. It would end her husband's political career. Through their connections, I had expanded my contacts and lured other powerful men and women into incest.
A loud, ringing chirp burst out of my desk. My stomach roiled. I swallowed and pulled out the burner phone in there. I charged it up every few days. I had never used it. There was only one reason for anyone to send a message to me.
My hand shook as the fear rippled through me. A cold dread. It was a text from Mr. James. That wasn't the person's real name, of course. Just signed arrest warrants for you and your family on charges of incest.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I read the text from Judge Coburn.
A momentary wave of fear washed through me, a dread settling in. I fought against the panic. I had prepared for this day. Knew it would come eventually. I was too vocal about what I wanted. The change wouldn't come easy. Those who feared it would stand up to oppose me. So I had planned for this day.
I stood up and disassembled the burner phone. I moved to the wall. The case files would be protected. Even if I was arrested, they couldn't touch privileged communications between me and my clients. I slipped the phone in there. Elisabet would dispose of it later.
I drew my real phone, my fingers were already working on the group text to send out when I knocked on the door to Elisabet's office. She muttered something. I opened the door to find her sitting at her desk, glasses perched on her nose. Her blonde hair spilled about her mature and lovely face.
“Clint, do you have that—”
“My family and I are about to be arrested,” I said. “Judge Coburn's signing the warrants right now.”
“Oh,” she said, the color draining from her cheeks. “Okay.”
I finished typing my text and sent it to my family: What movie should we watch tonight?
I sat down across from Elisbet and waited for the police to come. This was a desperate plan, but if it worked...
I lifted up my phone from my desk and glanced at the text message from Clint. It was a group one, to all the women of the family.
What move should we watch tonight?
“Fuck,” I snarled. A shudder ran through me as I read the innocuous text. Bubbling fear rose from my stomach. My eyes flashed to the photos of my daughter, of Clint and me, and Pam and me sitting on my desk. My heart beat fast. My chair creaked in my office at the law firm I worked at.
I grabbed my drawer, pulled out the burner phone in there. I had never used it once. I sent out the text.
“I just feel like my husband is so close to giving in,” Rachel Bennett said to me as she sat on my therapist couch. Not my bed. I wasn't doing “cuddle” therapy with Mrs. Bennett.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked. Mrs. Bennet had come to me when she realized her husband was becoming obsessed with their daughter and that she thought her daughter was encouraging the attention. She didn't know how to handle it. if it was just her husband, she would have been mad, but she believed it was the daughter's fault more and more.
“He's jerking off in her panties. He has to know that she's leaving them out deliberately. She's wearing three or four pairs in a day now when he's home.”
“Have you been subtly encouraging him to act?” I asked. I had convinced her that not only was it normal for a daughter to want to have sex with her father, but it was healthy if they engaged in it. Both would have their self-esteem boosted. And if she wanted to join in, why, it was the twenty-first century.
“I have, but he's scared. He's a fireman.” Rachel shifted. “He's terrified of getting caught.”
“I understand,” I said. My phone beeped. “Well, I want you to keep at it. In fact, the next time he goes to do it, catch him and slip off your own panties. Say he can use yours, too. Maybe together with your daughters. Prime him.”
“That is a fantastic idea,” Rachel said, a naughty glint in her eyes. It wouldn't be long for her family until they took the plunge into incest. I could just feel it. There was nothing more satisfying than that. Like with Isaac and Catherine last night. I knew that brother and sister had crossed the line.
It was so satisfying helping others realize that.
As Rachel left, my phone chimed. I checked it. My blood went cold. My good mood evaporated. I drew in a deep breath. Our family had prepared for this day. Would it be enough?
Leann “Lee” Samuels
“Cleanup!” I shouted, leaping to my feet. “Cleanup! Right now!”
I had drilled for this. I pulled out the booking computer for the massage parlor and removed the hard drive. Then I pulled out the dummy one I prepared at the end of every day to be more innocuous and slipped it in. Two minutes, and the computer was starting back up.
“Cleanup!” I shouted, moving down the hallway. “Hurry, hurry! Every sex toy! Let's go!”
Gasp burst from rooms. Juana Campo thrust her head out of one, her eyes wide as I strode by to grab a garbage bag from a supply closet. A large, heavy-duty one. She stared at me in shock. I normally wasn't so forceful, I was a sex slave, but this was life or death.
“Move it!” I shouted. “Right!”
The Campo sisters, Stefani, and my big sister Zoey all launched into action. Clients were hustled out, sex toys were dumped into the bag. We were just a normal massage parlor that gave women relaxation. My stomach knotted. The moment we had it all, I darted for the back door, carrying my heavy load. It was such a shame. I opened the door to the back parking lot.
From here, I moved through an alley two blocks away, following a path I'd practiced. There was not a single security camera along this route. No one to see me. Behind a nursing home, I lifted up their dumpster, threw in the garbage, and then headed back to the massage parlor.
I took my post back at the receptionist's desk, my heart screaming in my chest. This was it. I closed my eyes. Clint had drilled us on how to ask. Lawyers. Invoke our 5th Amendment rights. Say nothing. Lawyers. Invoke. Say nothing. The mantra echoed in my head as I waited for the police to come and arrest me.
“Come on,” I said to the three youngest children that were home with me. The rest were in school, but Judi, Daisy, and Zane (Clint's daughters with Mrs. Armstrong, Stefani, and his son with Zoey) were only in preschool.
And they were already back from that.
“Hold hands,” I said, taking Zane's. They were all born within days of each other. “That's it. Just like that.”
They were nearly five. My heart pounded in my chest as I led them out of the house. I wished the others were home, including my twins, but there was no helping that. Hopefully, Elisabet could keep them out of the foster care system. We knew this was a risk. That this day could come.
Clint had a plan, but...
I held my head high as I led my nieces and nephew across the street and reached the Miharas' house. I knocked on the door. I prayed that the Miharas wouldn't be arrested. But it was impossible to know how far the ripples would spread.
This was our chance to show the injustice. It had to work.
Minako opened the door. The slender woman, my age, blinked in surprise. “Minako is shocked to see you.”
“It's happening,” I said, handing over the children to her. “Take care of them for us.”
“Minako will,” she said. She always used her first name. Her sister never did, though. It was a quirk of hers. Normally, I found it cute, like how I liked to pretend I was a little girl, but right now I was terrified. I was an adult who knew the full might of the California legal system was about to batter into my family.
“Thank you so much,” I said. I darted in and kissed her on the lips.
She gave me a reassuring smile.
That done, I pulled out the burner phone from my pocket. I sent a quick text to the phone number programmed in there: Clint Elliston and his family are about to be arrested for incest. Will be brought to Yolo County Jail for booking within the hour.
My blood ran cold as I sent that message to a certain reporter. I thrust the phone into the trashcan at the end of the driveway and headed home to wait for the police to come for me. Inside, I sat down on the couch, closed my eyes, and drew in deep breaths.
I hoped this wasn't the end. I didn't want to give this up. I loved our family. Why couldn't the world understand how amazing incest was. That it wasn't wrong. We were all consenting human beings who loved each other.
It was time to show the world that.
I stared at the wall. My fingers rubbed at my smock. Then I played with my pigtails. The clock on the mantle ticked by the seconds. The sounds echoed through the empty house. My stomach grew heavier and heavier.
The cars pulled up outside. Heavy footsteps. The loud pounding on the door. “Sacramento P.D., open up!”
Clinton “Clint” Elliston II
The patrol car pulled up to the Yolo County Jail to be greeted by the cameras. Three of my women had contacted reporters for three different papers, all using burner phones. I squirmed my shoulders, my hands cuffed behind me.
The police arrived an hour after I'd been tipped. They'd swept into the law office, shouting. Elisabet had argued with them. She'd mocked their warrant, but in the end, she couldn't stop them from arresting me. They'd cuffed me and walked me out.
Just like they did now.
The burly police officer who drove me, an older man with a gray mustache and a bit of a gut, hauled me out of the backseat. The cameras flashed. Reporters called out questions as they mobbed around me.
“Clint Elliston, you've been accused of incest,” a reporter shouted. “Is it true?”
“I'm only guilty of loving those important to me,” I said, glancing at the cameras, saying the words that I had memorized and prepared. “You'll see. We have done nothing wrong. What we have done is right and beautiful. And we're going to prove it. My family is going to be found innocent!”
The tide of questions washed over me, but there was no more time to answer them. I was being taken into the jail. The door opened and closed, shutting out the reporters. I was booked. My fingerprints taken, mugshots taken. Throughout the process, I spotted my women. Melody and Pam. Alicia and Leann. Zoey. Even Stefani was arrested. Our mothers, too. My entire harem swept up. I didn't know what evidence the had on us; it didn't matter.
I would get the world to accept incest was right.
I wasn't worried about us, but our children. Would they be pulled into the nightmare of the foster care system? I didn't know. My heart hammered in my chest as our lawyers arrived, led by Elisabet Reenburg.
We had our team already assembled. Criminal law experts who believed in the mission. We were going to go to trial and prove to a jury that what we were doing might be technically illegal, but only because the law was unjust.
I had faith in the people of California. Incest was spreading. People were accepting it more and more. I had communications from fans saying my interviews opened them up to love their family members. Now I had an even bigger platform.
This trial would be watched across the nation. The world.
They brought me to an interrogation room. Elisabet Reenburg sat down beside me, her eyes fierce. She was ready to do battle. The war had begun. Across from us sat two detectives, an older man, hair graying, the shadow of whiskers clinging to his cheeks and chin. The other was young. Surprisingly young. Brown hair. Intense, hazel eyes.
“We just want to talk, Mr. Elliston,” he said. “Unless we can call you Clint.”
“Clint's fine,” I said.
He nodded. “Now, before we begin, we have to Mirandize you. You're a lawyer, so you know we got to cover our asses.” He smiled at me like we were friends. “So here's the paperwork. You can read along with me.”
The interrogation had begun. I had my strategy fixed. I just hoped my women would hold up. I had embroiled them in this mess. I just hoped that they didn't hate me when this was done. The next few months, few years, would be hell.
We were about to put our fates into the hands of twelve strangers.
My daughter slipped out of the bathroom, a jaunt to her step. I didn't know what weird phase she was going through, but she was changing her panties a lot. Must be a girl thing. Either way, I knew there was a fresh pair of her panties in there.
Warm. Wet. Wreathed with her scent.
It had become an obsession of mine for nearly the last two years. I couldn't help it. Clint Elliston's interview about making incest legalized followed by catching my daughter masturbating had awakened something inside of me. This ravenous beast.
It was all I could do to keep him leashed up.
The panties were the best I could. I closed the bathroom door, locked it, and went for the hamper. I opened it up and pulled out my daughter's newest pair. It was the lilac thong with the bow on the front and a T in the back. I brought the part that covered her pussy, barely wider than two of my fingers, and inhaled.
That wonderful scent of sweet pussy filled my nose. I groaned, my dick going hard in a flash. I inhaled it again and again. It was amazing. A dizzying rush washed through me. My cock throbbed harder and harder.
I unzipped my jeans. I pulled out my cock.
I took a final inhalation, my dick throbbing. I was fresh off a tour at the firehouse. Seventy-two hours away from home. From Candy's panties. I wrapped the dainty fabric around my cock and pumped the cloth up and down my shaft.
My daughter burned in my imagination. I wanted to slide into her pussy. Just once. To feel her tight, barely legal flesh around me. She'd be tighter than her mother. Silky. Hot. I groaned, sliding my hand up and down the naughty underwear, rubbing the satin across the tip of my cock.
I groaned in delight, my daughter's moans in my imagination. I would have such a mig—
The bathroom door opened. I whirled, shocked. I'd thought I locked it. My wife was there and I cursed, struggling to hide what I was doing. My pants fell farther down my legs, bunching around my thighs.
“Rachel, this isn't—”
“You jerking off with our daughter's panties?” Rachel asked. She closed the door behind her. “Mmm, what pair are you using.”
She came up beside me, between me and the bathtub. “Oh, that pair. Mmm, Candy was so excited when she bought that.”
“Here,” she said and, to my shock, my wife hiked up her black skirt and revealed a pair of maroon panties, cut high and with black lace. It, too, had a bow on the front. “That one doesn't have much material to really wrap around your cock.”
“What?” I gasped.
My wife hooked her thumbs into her panties and slid them off her hips. My eyes widened. Her brown hair swayed about her round face—the same round face as our daughter, their features so close—as she rolled her panties down her thighs. Then she stepped out of them and held them up. They swayed from the tip of her finger.
“Mmm, I've been wearing these all day,” she said and held them before my face.
I could smell her sweet musk on them.
“You think I haven't noticed the stains on her panties, or how much time you spend in the bathroom after she's been in here.” My wife brought her panties down to my cock. She wrapped them about my shaft, covering our daughter's pair. “Mmm, now let's get you off on her panties.”
“Rachel,” I groaned again, stunned by her sliding her hand up and down my cock. “What...”
She leaned in and whispered, “I've been masturbating with her panties, too. While you're on tour. She doesn't change that often, but I don't mind. I rub them up and down my pussy thinking about you fucking her.”
My dick throbbed as she pumped both pairs of panties up and down my dick. The fabric felt different, hers sleeker than our daughter's. The pleasure surged down my shaft as she stroked me. Caressed me.
“You... to our daughter's?” I groaned.
“Yes,” my wife cooed. “Mmm, Dr. Elliston has helped me to understand it all. I don't need to be jealous of our daughter trying to seduce you. I can join in the fun.”
“With her panties,” I groaned. “We can't go further.”
“Right,” she moaned, stroking faster. “Mmm, you got a mother's and daughter's panties around your cock. Lucky you. You're going to cum hard, aren't you? Just soak our panties in all your seed?”
I nodded, groaning.
“Good,” she purred. “Then I'm going to put on our daughter's and feel your jizz on her panties for the rest of the night”
“Damn,” I panted, my balls rising already. “That's... Jesus, Rachel.”
“I know. Oh, god, I know.” She stroked her hand, the panties, up and down cock faster. She pumped away, massaging the tip in the wonderful silk.
She nuzzled into my ear as she did. She licked it, breathing heavily as she worked for her hand up and down my cock. The pleasure spilled down my shaft. My chest rose and fell, stretching out my t-shirt as she panted.
“Just imagine fucking her now,” she cooed. “I'm guiding you to her pussy. I'm pressing you against her. Mmm, won't that be amazing when you slide into her? Won't it feel fantastic when her twat is wrapped around your cock.”
“Yes,” I groaned, closing my eyes.
I pictured my wife placing my cock against Candy's black-furred muff. I pictured her twat just as I saw it that day when she was rubbing herself. The way she whimpered and moaned. How she gasped and groaned. I would ram into her hard and fast. I would fuck her until she came.
And my wife would be beside us, watching. Just like Clint's women did. They shared him. They loved it. And they loved each other. After I came in Candy, then my wife would lick her clean. She would feast on our daughter's pussy.
Hard, fast pulses of cum fired from my cock, soaking into the fabric of the panties. I bucked and groaned, my balls twitching as they unloaded my jizz. Spunk bled through the fabric and then ran over the outside.
“That's it,” my wife purred. “Cum in our daughter. Then I'm going to lick her clean. Just lap up all that spunk.”
“Yes!” I breathed, dizzy from the wild delight.
I panted as she pulled the panties from my dick. I swayed, the bathroom spinning around me. I grabbed the towel rack as my wife sat her cum-stained panties on the counter. She held our daughter's, showing off the pearly spunk on them, some of my seed soaking into the gusset. Then my wife drew them up, wiggling her hips.
“Mmm, I've never worn a thong before,” she cooed. She shuddered as she planted them on her pussy, her brown hair pilling out around the narrow cloth, some of my cum on them. “Now I'm going to get dinner ready soaking in both your juices.”
She picked up her panties and licked my cum off the fabric before tossing them in the laundry basket. Then she sauntered off. I panted there, face flushed. My body shook from the excitement bleeding out of me. That was insane.
I drew up my pants and buckled on my jeans. I splashed water on my face. I stepped out, and a moment later, Candy burst from her bedroom. She had this wild look on her face. She clutched her phone in hand, her black hair swaying about her cute features.
“Dad!” she gasped. “You won't believe it.”
“Believe what?” I panted, staring at her while naughty fantasies danced through my head.
My daughter turned the phone around. There was a picture of Clint Elliston being escorted by two cops. “He just got arrested. That incest guy. They say they have proof he's having sex with the women in his family.”
“Yeah, uh, that's illegal,” I said, needing to remember that. As sexy as my daughter was, my wife and I had to keep our lusts for her strictly to our roleplay.
“But isn't Mom's therapist his wife?” Candy asked.
“What?” I asked, shocked by that revelation. His wife... That meant Pam Elliston. She always promoted herself as an expert in sexual relationship therapy for women. I glanced downstairs where my wife was cooking dinner.
Just what sort of advice was my wife getting from Pam Elliston?
I clamped my hand over my mouth as my brother devoured my pussy. He licked and lapped at me. We were at the county jail now in an unused interrogation room. This was so wrong. We could get caught at a moment's notice.
That made it hotter.
We were so bad. Just as guilty as the Elliston's. I shuddered, my hips wiggling from side to side, grinding on my brother's mouth. His tongue dug through my folds. He licked me with hunger. Feasted on me.
I couldn't get enough of him. It had been hours since we'd fucked in the courtroom bathroom. Clint was being interrogated. The other women in the family were in holding cells waiting for their turn. We loved each other as they did.
We turned them in.
Did our job. I had to remember that.
“Oh, yes, yes,” I moaned as my brother's tongue dug through my folds. He caressed my labia and clit.
Then he sucked on it.
My voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the cinder block walls painted a soft beige. My eyes squeezed shut. I had one leg thrown over his shoulder, my weight balancing on my right foot. I ran my fingers through his buzzed-short, brown hair, massaging his skull as he feasted on me.
His lips nibbled on my bud. His tongue played with it. His whiskers rasped across my skin. It was incredible to feel. I gasped and moaned. My head shook from side to side. The pleasure surged through me. I whimpered.
My orgasm built faster and faster. People walked up and down the hallway. We were one moment away from getting caught. I bit my lip, my breasts jiggling beneath my bulletproof vest. My hips undulated from side to side.
I squeezed my eyes shut. The pleasure swelled in me. I came closer and closer to exploding. Every lick. Every suck and nibble. My brother's whiskers rasped against me. I groaned. My snatch clenched. He was so amazing.
“Isaac. Oh, Isaac, I love you!”
He sucked hard on my clit. I threw my head back and screamed out my climax. My body bucked. My juices gushed out of me. They surged into his mouth. I bathed him with my passion. My fingers ran through his buzzed-short hair.
“Yes, yes, yes!” I panted.
He licked and lapped up my cream. He feasted on my passion. I trembled through my orgasm, loving every moment of it. I drowned in the bliss, the rapture smothering all my other emotions. I was free in this one moment.
Climaxing on my brother's mouth. Not a cop. Just a sister committing wondrous incest.
His phone rang. He growled and ripped away from me. I slid my leg off his shoulder and panted there, naked from the waist down, my brother's face dripping in pussy cream. It hit me that we were in the county jail. We were being so risky.
“Yes?” he growled when he answered it. “Uh-huh. Okay, we'll be right there.”
“Fuck,” I muttered as we hung up. Our fun was over. “When we get a chance...”
“I'm fucking you,” he growled. “Even if we have to do it in the parking lot on the back seat of my patrol car.”
I smiled at him and looked around for my panties. The risk would be so great there. We were such hypocrites. Such terrible people. Already the pleasure was fading and the guilt was rising once again. I swallowed it down.
I had my job to do.
The text message from Minako Mihara had launched my mother and me into action. Clint had been arrested. It was all over the news. The radios blared with it. I sat with my legs stretched out as my mother drove us through town, my father's words echoing in my mind.
“Make sure he understands or we're all fucked,” Father had said. He had been selling my body, and my mother's, since college. Since my mother trained me to be a slut and fell into the delights of prostituting me. My friends.
She had a thing for training young girls now. An expert at it. We had many clients, powerful men and women who had pain Mom to turn their sweet, young daughters into nympho whores. Submissive sluts were willing to do anything that their mommies or daddies or both wanted.
We were pulling into our first Clint's house. It had been eight ago when we approached him at a party at the Reenburgs. We had seduced him with a mother-daughter incest show then Mom casually brought up his own daughter. How it would be perfect to mold her into a slut. He was a widower. An old man with a young daughter.
Clint had sent us to him for this day.
The sun had set when we pulled up. It had been hours since Clint's arrest. I hoped he and his family were doing well in custody. His goals were laudable. As someone who thoroughly enjoyed fucking my father, mother, and brothers, I wanted incest to be legalized.
Mom parked the car and I slid out, wearing a tight mini skirt and a halter top that cupped my round tits. My hips swayed on my stiletto heels. My pussy burned, juices dripping down my thighs for the fun we were about to have.
Mom looked amazing in her leopard-print sheath dress. An Arab MILF with huge tits that bounced and jiggled with her every step, her ass swaying as she climbed the stairs before me. I let out a purring delight.
My mom had turned me into a slut, and I loved it.
Mom rang the doorbell.
The patter of feet rushed towards us. Then the door opened and Tammy Coburn stood there, her blonde hair spilling down to her shoulders. She wore a short, pleated skirt, the pink fabric dancing about her thighs, and a V-neck, purple blouse.
“Mrs. Umayyah!” she gasped and then fell to her knees in utter submission. “Leyla.”
Without missing a beat, the trained slut ducked her head under Mother's skirt to nuzzle up and kiss at her pussy. Then the girl turned to me. Her head slid between my legs, her blonde pigtails brushing my inner thighs. Her head nuzzled up. She planted a kiss on my pussy followed by a quick flick of her tongue that slid through my folds.
Then she settled back on her knees and peeled off her blouse, exposing round breasts, her pink nipples pierced by heavy, gold rings. She stared up at us, ready to be given commands. Mother had molded her into such a submissive thing.
“We need to speak to your father,” Mom said. She grabbed one of the girl's rings with a hooking finger and tugged. The girl squeaked in delight and bounded to her feet. Her breasts jiggled. She had such a wild look in her eyes. She quivered there, her hips wiggling from side to side. “Fetch him.”
The girl nodded, quivering. She gasped as Mother twisted the ring. Then she turned and darted off, her skirt flaring up to reveal she wore no panties beneath. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a butt plug inserted into her asshole.
It was time for Judge Coburn to remember that they had dirt on him. He would be Clint's judge and ally.
“He's stonewalling us,” Ed said as my phone beeped.
“He's a lawyer,” I said. “We knew this would happen. That's why we needed physical evidence.”
I pulled out my phone. Checked it. Hi, Mom, guess who just showed up. The Campo sisters. They want to give us a private massage session. How great is that? They say they have a business proposal, too.
My stomach sank. I glanced at the two-way glass to where Clint sat stoically, two hours into his interrogation. Here came the blackmail. I could come clean, lose my job, and maybe even go to jail. Even if I got probation, I'd lose my license to practice law. All my life's work snuffed out.
Or I could let them blackmail me and maybe, just maybe, get away with it.
“What's that?” Ed asked.
“My daughter needs to see me tonight,” I said. “It can wait a while.”
I'll be there when I can, I texted my daughter. Won't be soon. Be patient. Things are crazy.
We can't wait for you to get here, Mom!
To be continued...