âMy mom wants to invite you over for dinner tomorrow,â she said immediately. We stood in the foyer. âYou donât have to bring anything.â
Odd. Her mother and I werenât especially close. Our kids were both juniors at the high school and weâd worked on one Christmas event together and thatâs about it.
âJust Chad and me?â I asked. âJason is out of town.â
Ashley looked down and in that quiet soprano said, âI know. He went to Los Angeles.â
âYou can take off your jacket,â I offered. âDo you want a Coke? Letâs sit in the kitchen.â
âNo, thanks, Mrs. Shepherd,â she said. She unzipped her jacket, but didnât move. âI really canât stay.â
Taking a step forward, she reached out and touched my sweatshirt, her fingertips grazing my nipple. Iâve never know a sixteen year old who was so forward with an older person. Uncooperative, yes, but forward, no.
âMy mom said sheâd like you to bring Chad. Iâm OK with that.â
She stroked my boob and looked up at me. Her voice had become so quiet that I cocked my head to hear her better.
âMom says you should dress like you were going to have sex with me again.â
What? I couldnât have heard that right.
âYou told her about what we did?â I asked. A week and a half ago weâd enjoyed some awesome sex together, for the first and only time. This was probably not model behavior by an adult.
âYes. Sheâs not mad or anything. I think she means just be casual. She talks weird sometimes.â
âDid you mention Chad was, uh, there?â I asked. Ashley had watched my son fuck me.
âWell, yes, I tell my mother everything. But she would never be mad about just sex.â Ashley pushed her breasts out, almost defiantly. âChad and I are sixteen. You can get married at sixteen, you know.â
Technically true, I guess, with parental consent. I pulled her close and kissed her on the mouth. A surge of lust made me hold her tighter. Our boobs pressed together and my hands slid down to her butt.
âI really canât stay, Mrs. Shepherd. Maybe Iâll see you tomorrow? I want you to come. Itâll be fun!â
I agreed to show up around six. After I closed the door behind her, thoughtful, I kneaded the nipple Ashley had rubbed.
That night, before getting into bed, I angled the blinds so the neighbors could see in. Our homes were only separated by their wide driveway and three feet of lawn. I did this most evenings when my husband wasnât home (and the moon wasnât too bright). I knew they watched me sometimes, ignored me others, and many nights I had no idea if they were even home. Tonight was like that. Their vertical blinds were open, but the room was dark.
I enjoyed masturbating, but I found it a lonely pursuit. I became the tree falling in the forest, with no one to hear my orgasm or share my pleasure. On the nights I glimpsed Rachel or her husband peering down, I acted for them, positioning myself so they could see my hands on myself. I hoped to excite them. Being watched thrilled me.
Twice this past year, when he must have been home alone, her husband climbed up on something, probably their bed, set back a few feet from their window. He stripped off his clothes and we masturbated together. I watched him come, pleased he found me desirable, happy to help him get off. After he waved goodnight or thank you or whatever with the hand heâd been using, he closed their blinds. I hoped he had a towel down or something for his come to land on. Rachel never did anything like this. I never even saw her naked. But I knew she also watched.
What could Ashleyâs mom have meant about dressing like I would have sex with her daughter again? Dinner must be a ploy. I hoped there would be no yelling. She probably didnât care about me fucking my son, but what must she think? How would I feel if she had sex with Chad? It would be different for a daughter, anyway, I was pretty sure.
The house was still warm, although having just turned down the thermostat, it wouldnât stay that way. Completely naked except for socks to keep my feet warm, I lay on the bottom sheet, the other covers pulled aside. My six inch dildo rested nearby, a thick, permanent erection. I didnât feel up to the eight inch one tonight. The door to the room was ajar, but Chad seldom came out of his room this late.
When you will get home, Rachel or your husband whose name I donât know?
My fingers brushed my nipples. I almost always started this way. Tonight, I immediately recalled Ashleyâs fingers there. With my eyes closed, I imagined watching her naked and stroking my breasts. My hands moved mostly without conscious thought. Those hands I felt gliding toward my pussy belonged to the blonde Ashley with the soft voice I pictured in my mind. I saw her wide eyes were inches from mine and her bare breasts.
Fingers pressed my pussy, not yet touching my clitty. I thought about Ashleyâs naked body, her mouth on my mouth. I rubbed myself a little faster. Her breasts brushed mine. Masturbating, for me anyway, is almost like dreaming, where images and memories shift quickly. I can picture Ashleyâs tongue in my ear and an instant later itâs inside my cunt and suddenly itâs in my mouth and it all makes sense. I recalled the leathery smell of her hair and the peachy taste of her cunt, the puffy ends of her breasts near the back of my throat and her lips against mine. I opened my eyes to find the dildo. A condom was already out of its package.
The lights were on in their bedroom. I saw someone moving around. It really didnât matter whether it was Rachel or her husband, although I did prefer just one watcher, not both together. Let the games begin.
I sat up, careful not to look at their window. Iâd concluded that when they knew that I knew that they both were watching, they felt obliged to close their blinds. Did that make sense? This âruleâ seemed less consistent if there was just one watcher. So long as I didnât seem to notice them, they would continue to watch. Her husband didnât seem to mind if I knew he was watching. Maybe I was completely wrong, but it mostly seemed to work. I didnât want to risk losing my watchers.
Eyes down and focused on the dildo, I pulled the condom over it and applied the lubricant. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Rachelâs husband at the dresser near their window. He was pretending to go slowly through a drawer, but I could tell he was watching me. No one takes that long to find a pair of socks.
I lay back with my head raised on a pillow and eased the silicone cock into my cunt. My eyes were closed, but now I imagined my watcher touching himself and staring out his window. I fucked myself slowly. The dildo was a little thicker than my sonâs cock.
My other hand rubbed my clitty. The dildo slid faster. God, I already wanted to come. I wanted Mr. Rachel to come, too. I got on to my knees, faced the other way and aimed my ass at the window. Reaching between my legs, I fucked myself doggie style. I wasnât able to use my other hand, but I could peek through my legs at my watcher. He stood right at the window and his arm was moving like he was masturbating, but I couldnât be sure. I chose to assume that he was jacking off. I enjoyed him enjoying me. Come on my ass, Mr. Rachel, I thought, you know you want to. Youâre thinking this dildo is your cock in my cunt, arenât you. Would you rather come inside me?
After two minutes of peeking at him peering at me, the warm tension building inside, I couldnât wait any longer. I rolled on to my back and pumped the dildo rapidly. I rubbed myself furiously, fingers together sliding back and forth across my clitty. I didnât dare look, in case Rachel was there, but I imagined him about to come. Come inside me. Now! My orgasm grabbed me. My legs clenched together. I hoped he was coming, spurting high enough to hit the glass of his window. I jerked again, finished, and eased out the dildo. I lay quietly for a minute.
I edged a look toward the window. The blinds had been closed, but the lights were still on. Did he stay to the finish? Did he come? I took the condom off the dildo, but left the whole mess on the sheet. I fell asleep quickly.
The next day, Saturday, at five after six, I knocked on the door to Ashleyâs house. There werenât any police cruisers outside, so my optimism that Iâd survive the night went up a notch.
Under my coat, I wore a dark blue patterned tunic dress with V-neck. A gold chain belt and small gold earrings. The only real concession Iâd made to dressing âto have sex with Ashley againâ was a silk thong instead of cotton panties. Chad simply wore a plaid shirt and jeans. Iâd brought a bottle of wine. I didnât know if they had any and I expected Iâd need it to relax.
âSmells like good home cooking,â I said when Susan, Ashleyâs mom, let us in.
âBaked salmon. I hope you like fish.â
I mostly donât like fish, but this salmon was excellent. It went reasonably well with the Chardonnay Iâd brought. Susanâs husband, Dominic, had opened a Pinot Noir. I kept my mouth shut about only white wine with fish, didnât everybody know that, and was glad I did. His wine went better with this salmon than mine.
The group did the dishes. The adults topped off their wine and carried their glasses with them to the living room. Ashley sat close to her dad on the loveseat, which faced the fireplace. On the sofa, at right angles to the loveseat and facing the TV on the distant wall, I sat closest to Dominic, while Susan sat at the other end. Chad squirmed between us. The TV was off and the gas fireplace was on. A single speaker produced bluegrass music.
Dominic held up an iPad and said, âIf youâre up for it, I thought we might play some Truth or Dare/Double Dare, get to know each other better. Sound OK?â
Why not? I agreed and Chad shrugged an acknowledgement.
âThis iPad has an app we like to use. We set it to a rating level, like G or R or X, and enter our names and sex. It does the rest.â
Susan said, âSince Diane and the kids are already, um, well-acquainted, letâs go with X. OK, everyone?â
I felt a little shiver, but said, âSounds good. Whoâs first?â
Dominic replied, âThe app chooses everything.â What he didnât say, what I didnât learn until the next day, was that the app had been rigged to lead Chad and me down a pre-determined path.
He entered the data about us and showed us a screen, which simply offered two buttons, âTURNSâ and âRANDOMâ.
âIâm going to choose random, so you might get hit twice in a row or not for a while. Here we go.â
The screen says, âEveryone remove shoes, socks, hats, coats, gloves.â
Everyone did as they were told and Dominic tapped the screen.
âSusan. Dare. Flip a coin five times. Every time âheadsâ comes up, you must take off an item of clothing. Jewelry doesnât count.â Dom added, âThe app does the flipping.â
He held out the iPad so we could see the image of a coin turning on the screen. It came down tails. This got booâs from Ashley and her dad, so I joined in. Susan did a two second dance with arms and elbows.
Tap. Flip. âHeads!â
Muffled cheers as Susan stood. She pulled her blouse out of her jeans, reached back with both hands, messed with her straps and pulled her bra off from under her top.
âHey,â I said, âI think we have a pro here. I wouldnât have thought of that.â
âHeads!â
Susan pulled off her jeans.
âTails!â Groans from all except Susan. Even Chad seemed disappointed.
âHeads!â
âFat lot of good the bra trick did me,â Susan laughed. She removed her blouse and twirled in place, now dressed only in cotton panties. Her breasts were slightly larger than mine, with just a hint of Ashleyâs puffy nipples. She had a great figure and a few extra pounds only made her more voluptuous. I donât know why that doesnât work for me. Chadâs mouth was open, but at least he wasnât drooling.
âIâve had only one turn and look at me,â she said, and we smiled. We all looked at her, too.
âOK, next. Double-dare. Uh, oh, itâs me and Ashley. It says, âDominic kisses Ashley on the mouth for at least thirty seconds. Well, a dadâs gotta do what a dadâs gotta do.â
Dominic put the iPad aside and pulled his daughter close. His lips closed on hers and for several seconds they held a chaste kiss. Ashley clinched him tighter. Their mouths opened. Dominicâs hand reached for her breast and cupped it. He rubbed his palm over her breast. After almost a minute, Susan loudly cleared her throat.
âUm,â Dom said. âWhere was I? Whew. Next! Chad, Truth. When was the last time you ate a womanâs pussy and whose was it?â
Chad squirmed. âDo I have to say?â
Ashley said, âNo, you can skip the question, but it will just give you another one that youâll probably like even less.â
Chad looked off to the right at the fireplace and said, âAbout two weeks ago I ate my momâs pussy.â
Susan rubbed his back and said, âNice. Good son. How was she?â
âIt was OK.â
With everyone knowing Iâd had sex with Chad and Ashley, and now that it was clear that Ashley and her dad had a thing and Susan was OK with it, being invited to dinner and this game made a certain sort of sense. We were part of a small (I assume) secret slice of the population. Who could we share with except each other? I wondered if this is what it used to be like to be gay.
Dominic said, âDiane. Dare. Rub Chadâs cock for thirty seconds. Thatâs all it says.â
I wasnât sure which would be weirder, hand inside or outside his pants, so I turned toward my son and stroked him through his jeans. He was already hard, probably from sitting next to nearly naked Susan. I used my nails and didnât use much pressure. I didnât want to make him come in his clothes.
âThat is so hot,â Ashley murmured.
âTotally,â her mother added.
âThirty seconds,â Chad said, a bit breathless, and I stopped. Heâd been looking at his watch.
âEverybody OK?â Dominic asked. âReady for more?â
[to be continued]Via: https://www.lushstories.com/stories/incest-fantasy/games-part-1-1