Runs in the Family

All of my stories take place in a parallel world, very similar to our own, where STI’s do not exist, so my stories are filled with practices that are highly unsafe in this world. I’m not going to say don’t try this at home, but take care of yourself.

All of my characters are of legal age, and you should be, too—do not read my stories if you are under the legal age in your country/area. Any resemblance to real persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

This story is brought to you by my wonderful Patrons. I love you guys!

And now, our feature presentation…

I sat back on the familiar couch in my parents’ living room. I’d just gotten back early from my summer vacation before college, but my attempt to surprise them failed miserably when nobody ended up being home.

I looked around the room, at the photos that were sitting in frames on tabletops and hanging on the wall. There weren’t any pictures of my father left; they’d come down after mom had married James… Aside from the baby pictures of me, all the pictures in the house seemed to start around the wedding, when I was fifteen.

Even though it had just been a few years, looking at the pictures I realized that Mom had changed a lot. In the earliest picture of us, she and I were standing side by side. I looked at her old hippie dress—she’d stopped wearing those—and simple makeup.

I turned my head to look at a more recent picture, of Mom standing next to James… I shook my head, so used to the familiar little twitch in my brain when I thought about James… It had been going on for so long that I usually didn’t even notice.

He hadn’t changed, though. He looked pretty much the same all the way through, with his work jeans and t-shirt stretched over his solid frame. His hair changed length a little as the pictures progressed, but not by much. Mom on the other hand looked like a different person in this picture, when comparing it to the first one. Her hair was carefully done, her makeup covering any of the imperfections that she used to say are what gives a person character. Instead of the hippie dresses she used to wear, she was wearing a short skirt and high heels. I didn’t know what the actual name for the kind of shirt she was wearing was, but it exposed both a lot of cleavage and her midriff.

“Dude, your mom is hot!”

I’d heard that again and again from my college friends, but, honestly, I missed the hippie dresses. She didn’t just look different, she acted different, too. Now, she always seemed to do what James… wanted. She used to be really open about everything, but all I knew was that she’d given up on her old hobbies and had taken up whatever it was that James… had suggested for her.

I glanced back at the first picture—Mom in her hippie dress, me in my old usual—jeans and long sleeve t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I looked for a recent one with Mom and me. She was wearing a similarly exposing outfit, just like in the picture of her and James… that I’d just been looking at. I looked at myself. We’d taken this picture just before I’d left for college, so it hadn’t been that long ago. In the picture, I was wearing loose basketball shorts and a tank top, almost like what I was wearing now, though the shorts in the picture were longer.

I used to hate wearing shorts.

I’d always felt so exposed, almost naked, wearing them. But I’d gotten a lot more confidant in the past few years, and they really were more comfortable. I almost never wore jeans anymore, and boxers? Fuck that. I felt uncomfortable even thinking of all that material twisting and catching and just getting in the way. Absently, I reached back into my shorts and ran my hand along the straps of my jockstrap, making sure that they weren’t twisted.

Maybe that’s why Mom changed her clothes, too. Maybe James… made her more confidant. For the first time ever, I followed along the pictures in as close to chronological order as I could figure out. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I’d never noticed before, but both Mom and I changed our styles a lot over the past few years.

Huh, that’s interesting.

I shook my head and settled back, sinking deeper into the cushions. I pulled out my phone and opened Tinder, checking to see if there was anyone promising.

Left.

I don’t know why I even tried anymore. I’d never found a woman on Tinder that I wanted to swipe right on. It wasn’t that they were ugly or anything, I just wasn’t interested. I closed the app and just sat there for a little bit. My eyes settled back onto the picture of Mom with James… and I found myself staring at him. I wasn’t thinking about anything, or doing anything, my eyes just rested on his picture while I sat there.

I jumped when I heard the front door slam open, and then closed again.

James… stomped into the room, and by the time my mind caught up with things, he was already falling onto the couch next to me.

“You know,” he said, smoldering anger in his voice, “Your mom is a cunt.

“Please don’t talk about my mom like that,” I said softly, my eyes lowered.

“I bet your dad divorced her because she left him with blue balls, too,” he raged.

“Please don’t talk about her like that,” I said, louder, my cheeks flushing.

“I can talk about that slut however I want,” he snapped at me. I stared at him in shock.

“Please, stop—“ I started.

“She ran off with a group of black guys that catcalled her to get gangbanged and left me hanging,” he complained. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“I don’t—” I tried to speak, not sure how to react to being spoken to like this by my stepdad.

“Come to think of it, you’ve been exposed to almost all the same training she has. Maybe I should use your hole and make her jealous,” he said, the anger leaving his voice.

Training? What was James… talking about?

“Yeah,” he mused, “You’re old enough to be a slut now. You’re certainly dressed for the part,” he added, looking me up and down.

“Dad, I don’t know… Don’t… What you…” I babbled.

“Think about my penis, Ed,” he ordered.

His penis? My stepdad’s penis? James’… peeeeeeeeeeeennnnnniiiiiiiiissssssssssss… My mind ground to a halt, everything falling away and leaving nothing but a mental image of what I thought my stepdad’s penis would look like.

The first thing I noticed when my mind started to grind back to life was how horny I was.

The second thing I noticed was that James… had pulled me onto his lap and was unfastening my pants. I could feel his erection underneath me. It felt huge.

“Ohhhh, Dad, what’s—” I struggled, wiggling in his lap as he jerked at my pants, inching them down to reveal my jockstrap.

“Shhh, relax slut. Relax,” he ordered. I moaned again, and the world spun. I struggled to right myself, and found myself on all fours on the couch, my pants around my knees keeping me from being able to move very much. Hands rested against my ass cheeks, burning hot, and then pulled, stretching them apart. Cool air hit my hole, making me gasp as my erection jerked around in the pouch of my jock.

“Ohhhhhhh!” I moaned into the arm rest of the couch. “Dad, you can’t! It’s too big!” I tried, once again, to protest.

“If your mom can take it, you can take it,” he said, and then my mind exploded as he brought his tongue to my hole. I had no idea what he was doing, all I knew is that my world had dissolved into a kaleidoscope of overwhelming pleasure. He pulled back and brought his hand down on my ass with a sharp slap. I moaned like a slut. I was wiggling back against his hands as he kneaded my cheeks.

“Dad! We shouldn’t be doing this!” I protested, writhing back against his powerful hands, taking perverse delight from their heated sensation on the flesh of my ass. He took one hand away, using the other to press and rub my hole. I heard his belt coming undone, and the sound of his zipper lowering. I turned my head to look back and finally see what his dick looks like.

My stepdad’s peeeeennnnnniiiiiiiissssssssssss…

When my head cleared, he was sliding the head of his cock up and down my ass crack, his precum lubricating his movements.

“Dad, we can’t do it, it’ll never fit!” I protested, turning to face forward again and burying my face in the cushion on the arm of the couch. There was silence as he grasped both my ass cheeks and spread them, rocking his hips to send his cock sliding back and forth over my hole.

“Shhh, it’s going to fit just fine. It fits in your mom’s pussy, it’ll fit in yours, too,” he reassured me, letting go of my ass with one hand to guide his cock into position.

“My puuuussssssyyyyyy,” I groaned into the arm rest, my body quivering as the pressure against my hole increased.

“Yeah, your pussy’s going to do just fine. It might even be better than your mom’s,” he growled. “You know she’s making me do this, right? If she’d done her job and taken care of this dick,” he accentuated the word with a jab of his hips, causing me to gasp and my back to arch as the head popped all the way in, “then I wouldn’t need another place to put it.”

“Unh, it’s so big Dad! Awwwww!” I whined, the pressure unrelenting as he slid slowly forward.

“Ohhh, faggot, your pussy feels better than your mother’s,” I felt a rush of pride that was quickly washed away by a wave of shame and perverse arousal. I shouldn’t be proud of that!

“Ohhh, it’s so big! Oh! Oh! Oh! Dad!”

Another inch.

Another.

And another.

How many inches did he have?

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” I droned in a confused cry as his cock filled me more, and more, and more until…

His pelvis pressed against my ass, which meant that his cock was all the way inside of me. He paused, and I could hear us both panting. He just stayed still, waiting there, letting me get used to having his cock buried inside my pussy.

I hadn’t even known I had a pussy before tonight!

“Can you imagine if she walked in right now?” He asked, close, his breath hot on my ear.

“Ohhhhnnnnnnnoooooooo, she’d be so mad!” I cried out, somehow simultaneously horrified and delighted by the prospect of my mom catching me getting fucked by my stepfather.

“Nah, she’d just be jealous of you,” he corrected me, slamming his hips forward, filling the empty space he’d just left behind. He immediately started to withdraw again, leaving an even greater emptiness behind until he slammed home again.

Mom? Jealous of me getting fucked?

“Fuck, I think you might be an even better slut than she is. She’s got some serious competition now,” he said, filling me with another cascade of pride followed by shame so intense I thought I might cum on the spot. “You like my big dick inside you?”

“Awww, Dad! Fuuuck, it feels so good!” I moaned, driving myself back into his thrusts.

“Do you like being a slut, Ed?” He asked, picking up the pace, fucking me harder.

“Yes! I’m a slut! I like it!” I cried out. It was all too much for me. He was pounding me relentlessly, and the sensations in my pussy were better than anything I’d ever felt before.

James… turned me into a slut!

“I’m cumming in your pussy, slut,” he growled, slamming his dick into me, filling me as full as I’d ever been.

“Aww yeah, ohhh! Ahhh, ahhhhh, ohhhhhh. Ahhhh! Ah, ah ah ah! Fuck yeah! Awww yeah!” I cried out, my cock squirting a load into the crotch of my jockstrap, soaking the material as my stepfather pumped my guts full of his cum.

“What the hell is going on here?” Mom yelled from the living room doorway. I looked over in horror to see her standing there, disheveled, her clothes even more revealing in their bunched-up state.

“Good of you to show up,” James greeted her, breathing heavy. “Have a good time getting gangbanged, slut?” He asked. His cock was still inside me, and as Mom watched he started rocking his hips, stirring it through my insides.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that my eyes had just met Mom’s when he got the first moan out of me.

“James! N-not in front of my son!” She protested. James… just scoffed at that.

“I’ve got my dick shoved up your son’s pussy, and you’re worried about him finding out you just got gangbanged by a group of black guys you met on the street?” He laughed. “That ship has sailed. You weren’t here, so I had to turn your son into a slut, just like you.”

“Nooo! You can’t do that!” She whined, and I absently thought about how much my whining earlier sounded just like hers.

“You know, I think Ed is an even better slut than you are. Maybe I’ll let him be my main slut instead of you,” James… said, and I watched as mom’s thighs quivered and pressed together.

“No, James, please! I need it!” She was breathing heavy, her chest heaving.

“How many of those black guys came in your pussy?” He asked her, rolling his hips against my pelvis. I could feel his cock swelling inside me again. Mom gave me a look filled with profound shame, but it didn’t stop her from answering.

“All of them!” She confessed. James… chuckled.

“Think about that, Ed. Think about how much of a slut you have to be in order to let a whole group of strangers pump cum into your pussy. Sluts love cum, Ed.” My head had immediately filled with a montage of faceless black men squirting out their cum. I’d tasted my own cum before, but I bet theirs was even better. “Do you like cum, Ed?”

I’m a slut, and sluts love cum!

“Yes! I love cum!” I agreed, wiggling my hips, desperate for more.

“I think you’re wearing too many clothes, slut,” he said. My torso pressed harder into the couch cushions as I reached back to try and figure out how to take off my jockstrap, but with James… buried balls deep in my pussy, there was no way! He burst out laughing.

“Not you, slut, your Mom,” he said soothingly, pulling the straps of my jock back into place, framing the pussy he had just finished fucking and still had his cock inside of.

“James! Please! I need it!” Mom begged. I looked over and blushed at the sight of my mom standing there naked, her fingers buried in her crotch as she looked desperately toward her husband.

“Hmm,” he mused. “I don’t know.” He started to slowly fuck me again, and I let out a contented sigh. “You haven’t been a very good slut today, Lara. Ed’s been a much better slut than you, haven’t you, Ed?”

“Ohhhhh,” I moaned, “Daaaaaad!” He laughed at my response.

“I don’t even know that you earned the cum you got. How many black guys was it?”

“I… I think ten or fifteen, maybe,” she admitted.

“I think Ed deserves that cum more than you. What do you think about getting cum from ten or fifteen black guys, Ed?” He asked me, slamming into me to emphasize the question.

“I love cum! I’m a slut!” I cried out eagerly.

“I know, faggot. It runs in your family,” he teased me, but my attention was focused on the sensations of his penis sliding around inside me. Lara, you didn’t earn that cum. Come give it to your son,” he ordered.

“I… I… Uh, h—how?” Mom stuttered as she walked closer.

“Stand in front of his head,” he instructed. “Look up, Ed. Your mom brought you lots of tasty black cum.” I raised my head and gasped as I came face to face with Mom’s pussy. I could see cum dripping from it.

“Ohhhh, James! This is sooo dirty, please don’t!” Mom cried out. I just stared forward, torn between shame and revulsion at being so close to my own Mom’s vagina, and a desperate need to taste the cum a bunch of strangers had pumped inside of her.

“Eat that cum, faggot,” James… ordered, giving me a particularly violent thrust that sent me falling forward into Mom’s crotch. My mouth opened, and my tongue extended. I moaned and shuddered, pinned between my parents, as I got my first taste of the cum that was leaking from her.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” I let out a muffled moan of ecstasy. I’m a slut, I love cum! It didn’t matter that it was coming from Mom’s pussy, it was delicious.

Sluts love cum!

I’m a slut!

I love cum!

I kept moaning and seeking out every drop of cum that I could reach. I was absently aware of shameful moans coming from my mother, but I was more interested in listening to James… repeatedly call me a slut as, for the second time that night, he started fucking me in earnest.

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to get your name changed. I made you a slut, you should take my name like your mother did.”