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Honestly, I didn’t believe a word of it, but Kirsty did, and she is such a drama queen that her mind immediately went to the worst possible options. But worse than the nightmarish scenario of spinning from one exotic location to another on the holiday of a lifetime, she was going to have to rein in her now-habitual promiscuity. “We aren’t going to be anywhere for more than a couple of days. I’ll never be able to work out who’s safe to fuck, who can keep a secret, who’s not got a nasty fetish or, worse, a venereal disease they’re gonna subject me to. I don’t dare risk my sensitive twat on a random stranger like that.” By the end of the month, she was predicting the most chronic case of blue lady-balls (blue ovaries?) imaginable.

Faced with such dire predictions, I had no choice but to make some daunting promises that I might struggle to fulfil. Firstly, I committed to planning some kind of special surprise – something extra-exciting – for her return. To meet the requirements being placed on me, I would have to take a step upward even from my birthday lesbian orgy or Dr McPhail’s audio-visual sex dungeon (and if neither of those is the name of an ultra-hip up-and-coming band playing in a hipster bar near you then I don’t know what’s wrong with the world).

That still was not enough for her, though. She made me promise that, on any rare occasions when she could get hotel Wi-Fi and privacy, I would meet her on a video messaging app and really give her something to watch. “You know how my parents are about checking my browser history, keeping child locks on all my devices and stuff. I can’t even watch TV after 9 PM without them vetting the program first. The video messaging program we use doesn’t record though, so we can do anything we like. Besides, I trust you far more than some random porn site to deliver some really spicy visuals. You always look an absolute treat for the eyes when you’re fucking, and that’s what I need.

“Rachel, I need reliable, untraceable filth, and you are the only one who can provide it. I won’t take no for an answer.”

So a few days later, I found myself on my back on a table in front of my webcam, with one brother’s cock down my throat, and the other’s up my butt, while on my computer monitor, the young blonde nymphomaniac perched on a chair, legs apart, fingers a-blur on her sweet, juicy, hairless twat.

My had was hanging off the table so that my mouth, throat and oesophagus formed a single straight channel down which even a long penis could pass unimpeded, thus improving my deep-throating technique immeasurably. I had landed on the idea when I had seen a picture of an old-fashioned sword-swallower, and indeed my brother Simon had developed the infuriating habit of referring to me as “his Little Sword-Swallower” whenever he thought he could get away with it, which I tried to make sure was as little as possible. Big brothers, am I right?

It was true, though, that multiple men had complimented me on the way my throat massaged their cock-heads, and especially when it contracted with my gag reflex. I do dearly love the taste of their jizz when it floods my mouth and throat, with saliva running up my cheeks in little rivulets, but managing their excitement and the mouthful of meat along with my own breathing was a real job of work requiring my full attention, especially since the blood would rush to my head and make my ears roar. If I had any awareness left, it was taken up with the delightful sensation of Rick’s manhood pistoning in and out of my tight anal sphincter and invading my bowels.

Which is why, when my mind exploded with orgasmic bliss, Ricky exploded in my mouth and Simon exploded in my butthole, it took me a while to notice that they were gone, their warm seed plastering my cheeks and bum the only sign they had been present. And it was a few seconds more before I realized that Kirsty was no longer on the line.

I sat down at my computer to investigate, and saw a video messenger message. It read, in emphatic all-capitals, “OMG I SAW UR DAD THRU THE DOORWAY!!!!!”

My fingers sped across the keyboard. “WHAT??!!!!!”

“YAH Like he passed the doorway, stopped n stared at you n ur brothers. not sure if he saw me but I didnt disconnect strait away. man Rachel I came so hard my hand wuz shakin! I cudnt move the mouse propyl!”

“Kirsty im in so much trouble! Fuck knows what he’s gonna say. It’s all gonna come out, all the guys, the teachers, the girls, you… OH god what am I gonna do?”

There was a pause. “Maybe itll be ok” was the reply, although it seemed to me she doubted it as much as I did. “he dint come chargin in & separate u. in fact he stood there fur longer than he should.” There was another pause. “What if hes into it?” The next comment followed almost immediately, so quickly that I don’t know how she managed to type it so quickly: “THAT WUD BE SO HOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM ALREADY WET AGAIN!”

That cut through the panic flooding my brain, and made me smile. “Cool it gal. God ur such a slut.”

She responded with a kiss emoji, and a close-up pic of her tight, glistening, bald pussy that she had clearly taken right then and there. So of course I had to reciprocate with a shot of my sperm-flecked rosy lips and dripping from my alabaster anus. Four heart emojis in a row, then three eggplant emojis signalled her approval, then she signed off. As a last parting volley, we exchanged milk jug pictures, a private code for jokingly calling each other a “cumslut who cant get enough of tha white stuff”.

Banter aside, I was really worried about what would happen next. Dad was the real authority in my world, and I think I subconsciously thought he could do pretty much anything, including somehow denying me any and all sex, even when he wasn’t around. The prospect of not a single male member or tongue (male or female) parting my sweet cunny lips in the foreseeable future was a horrifying one, and it seemed to my panicked (not to mention post-coital) mind that he could actually make it happen.

I debated back and forth, before eventually bringing the window back up and messaging my brother Simon. “Did you see dad?”

His response was not what I expected. “Yeah but don’t worry about it.”

“HOW???”

“You’ll see. Seriously its not a problem.” He seemed so calm that I couldn’t help calming as well, and he was so unconcerned that he didn’t waste another moment on the subject. “Great sesh” was his next message. “Your mouth is so hot.”

I sent him the same creampie pics I had just snapped and sent to Kirsty, and he responded with a snap of his rock-hard penis, although it was an old one that I recognized from when he had sent it to me before.

With my fears eased somewhat, it of course was not long before I was ready for sex again. I think you will realize by now that my libido is permanently sky-high, and I see no reason not to give it complete free rein, so as soon as my brain ticked over from “just fucked”, it was back into “ready to fuck” mode, and that immediately meant “looking for fuck opportunities”.

I briefly ran down a mental list of possible partners, but at this time of day, none were really suitable. Out next-door neighbours on both sides had proved disappointingly unresponsive to my advances (one of them was a gay male couple), and although I was absolutely certain that my hot teenage body and smouldering sexuality could seduce even the most obdurate target, I was not in the mood for a project.

I was just about to pull my underwear aside so that I could finger myself just to ease the tension, when Simon messaged me again. “Go down to mum & dad’s room and peek through the door.”

“Why?” I responded.

“Just do it” was his enigmatic reply, so I got up, wandered down the hallway, and kneeled to look through the slightly open door of my parents’ bedroom.

I don’t know what I expected. I really should have anticipated that they would be having sex – after all, it was their bedroom, and their daughter’s raging sex drive had to come from somewhere – but somehow you never expect it from your own parents.

Mum was propped up on the backboard of the king size bed, stark naked. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy, and while one hand massaged a tit – surprisingly perky for a mother of three in her mid-forties – the other rested on the head of my dad. He was crouched in front of her, also naked, enthusiastically licking her out.

Is it wrong to be turned on by that? Well if it is, fuck you, because I totally was. I crouched there, stifling sighs of arousal as I watched the vagina I had once emerged from being thoroughly serviced by my father’s tongue.

But what came next utterly blew my mind. In a voice that was muffled but still clearly audible, my dad said “God Rachel, your pussy tastes so good!” Not Helena, my mother’s name, but mine! As he licked her twat, he was imagining licking mine, and clearly loving it.

The shocks didn’t end there either. Far from pushing him away in disgust and outrage, mother’s tremulous voice said “Oh yes, Rachel. Lick mummy’s cunt. Make mummy come!”

They were both doing it! Both of my parents were sharing a sexual fantasy of fucking me, their own daughter. I don’t know what the arrangement was running through their head – I suppose it must have been me fully extended between them on the bed, my nubile teenage cunt at my daddy’s lips while my own mouth slathered my mother’s groin as she sat against the backboard. To be fair, there was room; my parents had a massive bed, and I remembered occasions during my childhood when all five of us had napped together on it without feeling too cramped.

This illicit sex show of forbidden lust was so much better than my own fantasies, and my fingers itched to get at my clit, but at that moment I felt a presence at my side, and my brother’s voice whispered in my ear. “Like what you see?”

“It’s me!” I replied, my lips (so recently painted with his sperm) brushing his ear to make sure we weren’t heard. “They are fantasizing about fucking me. Both of them! Is this how dad has reacted to spotting us?”

“Believe it or not, no. Or at least, not entirely. They have been doing this every now and then for months at least. Getting it on with you is one of their most regular fuck-fantasies.”

As he said this, his fingers were trailing down my sides, over my hips and pert bottom. When he reached my crotch, he chuckled. “You really are enjoying this! Your panties are so soaked I could wring them out to water the garden.” He was right too, I was gushing, and his male proximity was only adding to it.

“I think dad has the right idea,” my brother whispered into my ear, and he yanked down my underwear, exposing my engorged, slippery-wet labia to the open air of the corridor. He had a way of pulling, twisting and tightening underwear into a knot around my ankles so that I couldn’t undo them without sitting for a minute or so working them loose. I had to admire the fact that, using nothing more than a girl’s normal clothing, he could enhance any sexual situation with a kinky bondage element.

His tongue went to work on my vagina, and it was complete. Every element of the situation was a picture of clandestine filth. I was voyeuristically spying on my own parents, watching a tongue invading the womb that had given birth to me. My own brother was doing the same to my dripping wet cunt. I was tied up, in danger of being spotted. Voyeurism, bondage, incest, it all combined in one deliciously sordid package of forbidden love.

When I came, it erupted through me like a volcano, but I knew I had to be quiet. Stifling my roars of orgasmic bliss was one of the most difficult things I have ever done, and in the end, I could only do it by biting my arm, the pain adding yet another spicy element to the incendiary mix. Not that I was in that much danger of being heard: mum and dad were now in a 69 position, and their oral ministrations were demanding absolutely all of their attention. When either of them gasped my name, as they periodically did, it was so muffled in the flesh of their partner that it was barely recognizable.

I’m not sure whose cock my mum was imaging spunking down her throat, but there was absolutely no doubt that I was involved in this fantasy. Involved and invested: as I lay there, gasping, stark naked except for my knotted panties, I knew that I absolutely had to make it a reality. My mind thrilled at the prospect of tasting mummy’s pussy, tasting daddy’s semen.

I set about achieving my disgusting, beautiful, incestuous, intensely erotic goal the very next day. I already knew both my parents desired my beautiful teen pussy – most people did, as I had learned in recent times. Once I was alert to the signs, it was far too easy to spot both my mum and dad ogling their nubile young daughter. What is more, I knew that they were working primarily on the basis of imagination; they were far too conformal to veer into the lands of actual forbidden erotica without a little prompting.

That probity, which had been their strength until now, would be their weakness. Pinned on so little, their libidos would be hypersensitive to any true sexuality from me.

The first thing was to make sure they knew about my fresh, clean-shavenness. That morning I found an opportunity. I dropped a trinket – a fluffy cat toy – so that it bounced down the stairs and to my mother’s feet. “Oops,” I cried, “Pussykins slipped!”

Mum looked up the stairs to my voice, and was treated to a sight that momentarily paralyzed her: her erotic fantasy of a daughter wearing only a long shirt and nothing else! Frozen to the spot as he was, I was able to wander casually downstairs, turn around on the landing right in front of my mother, and bend down fully to pick up the plush toy. The shirt fell down over my waist, revealing my entire hip area, including the hairless space around my beautiful vagina. Then I straightened up and rushed upstairs.

“Rachel!” called my mother, but I pretended not to hear. I hurried straight on, down the corridor to my room, and shut the door loudly. Now, if she wished to admonish me, she would have to climb the stairs and more, crossing half the house to tell me that my puss was a cause for concern. Racked with guilt, I knew she would not go to such lengths for fear of having her carnal desires exposed, and I was right. There was no knock at the door. Nonetheless, the fantasy of it was enough to see me to a satisfying orgasm on my needy fingers.

Dad took a while longer. I decided that bath-time presented the most opportunities, but he just never seemed to be around when I was exiting the bathroom. I picked a certain towel that did not quite span the distance between my nipples and the cleft of my thighs, and hid the others. I made sure to drop hints (when mum wasn’t around, for it would not do to have them discussing things and easing their minds) that the towels were too small, but if he put two and two together, he was not acting on it.

Finally, after several days, I managed to establish the right circumstances. After my daily shower (washing out the semen of an energetic schoolboy I had fucked that afternoon), I loitered in the bathroom for minute after minute, knowing that only my daddy was in the house. It took half an hour or more before I heard his footsteps in the hallway. I clicked the latch and stepped out.

Turning to face him, I made to wander past. My cleft was clearly on show below the edge of the towel wrapped around me, I had made sure of that in the bathroom mirror, to the extent that I had to resist a quick wank right then and there, and I think that helped, because my labia was glistening enticingly with the moisture of arousal.

Seeing him, I made a show of embarrassment, and dragged the hem of the towel down, covering my crotch yet letting a sweet little nipple slip from the top. My other hand pulled at the top of the towel, regaining my modesty all too late, and I hurried past my father to my room, safe in the knowledge that I had successfully planted the seeds of temptation in his mind.

Then I made opportunities to remind them that their nubile little daughter was a sexual being. When I heard them going past, I raised my voice several times with moans and pants of arousal, strumming my clit with wet slaps and slurps that could definitely be heard through the door. I could easily have imitated the sounds of orgasm, but it was not at all necessary; even all the fucking I could get from fellow schoolboys, schoolgirls, teachers and the odd stranger were not enough to satisfy my needs, I would masturbate every night, cumming almost as hard on my slender fingers as I would on all those rigid cocks and sweet lips and tongues.

As a last little piece of bait, on the night I had chosen, I waited downstairs on a night when I knew both my parents would be coming home late. During that afternoon, of course both Rick and Simon fucked me on the leather couch, but I made sure to catch all their spunk in my mouth; not just for the love of that salty slipperiness on my tongue, but because I wanted only the wet patch on the sofa cushion to evidence my arousal. I searched out certain types of pornography on the Smart TV mounted on our lounge wall and played it. And all so that…

Around midnight, I heard noises at the front door. They were returning at just the time I expected, but I pretended that they had caught me by surprise. I ‘rushed’ upstairs – from the doorway, they could see that I had been naked from the waist down. When they went into the lounge, the display on the huge 65-inch screen proudly showed a search entitled “DADDY MUMMY DAUGHTER PORN”.

There it was. No need to fantasize any more, they could see the evidence: the warm, damp imprint of their daughter’s buttocks and cunt on the leather seat, proving her arousal at the thought of having sex with them. As I hoped, they went to bed stunned rather than confront me immediately – an awkward conversation would put the dampener on everyone’s libido, and that would never do.

I waited for a couple of hours, to make sure they were asleep. For my part, there was no chance of that: my heart was pounding, my nipples rock hard, my vagina leaking the sweet fluids of arousal. I did not masturbate, for what was to come would only be the better as my need rose ever higher.

Finally, when I could wait no more, I rose from my bed. I briefly considered donning some sexy undies, but what was to happen would be mostly in darkness, and the feel of skin on skin would be far better than the sight of my body framed with lace, as alluring as that may be.

So, stark naked, I tiptoed down the pitch-black hallway to my parents’ bedroom. The door was slightly creaky, so I had to open it carefully, but I managed it without awakening either of them. Then, making my way to the end of the bed, I lifted the duvet, and slipped under.

As usual, mum was sleeping on the left, dad on the right. Neither wore a shred of clothing, which surprised but delighted me. I felt their legs either side of me, and they stirred slightly. Up I went, continuing my stealthy crawl, until I reached their hips. Dad’s circumcised cock was flaccid as my hand grasped it, but I knew that would not last for long. Mother’s vagina, from which I had emerged some eighteen years before, had been trimmed of hair but a light stubble remained, and I looked forward to it tickling my chin. Her nether lips were clammy, evidencing her recent arousal which was now cooling and drying in her slumber.

Unable to wait a second longer, I dived in, lashing mummy’s cunny with my warm, wet tongue. She tasted a bit like me, but subtly different, and it was not long before a fresher flow was meeting my ministrations.

At the same time, my slender fingers started to slip up and down the penis it held, which quickly thickened and hardened to a very respectable length and girth.

“What are you…” my mother began, but a finger of my free hand over her lips silenced her.

“Shhh” I hissed gently into her vagina, and continued my tongue’s attack on it, bringing to bear all the skill I had gained over the last months of near-constant copulation. My finger, its mission of silencing her completed, started to trace her upper lips, before making its way inside her mouth. When her lips closed about it and I felt suction, I knew she was gone. I would hear no further complaint from her.

As we continued in this manner, I made sure to keep vocalizing. “Oh daddy, I love how big your cock is!” or “Ooh, mummy, your pussy tastes SOOO good!” I didn’t want them to forget for a moment that the source of this stimulation was me, their very own daughter. I could tell it was having an effect too, each compliment from me causing an ecstatic sigh, or making the phallus twitch in my rising-and-falling grasp.

It has to be said, too, that this talk was having a major effect on my own libido. I had called a couple of men “daddy” during sex, but being able to say it to my actual dad was an extra thrill. Fulfil your fantasies, readers, it’s fucking hot!

Then my father took the initiative. “Damn, girl, I want to taste you!” he growled. Seemingly without effort, he lifted me bodily in the darkness, rotated me in the air, and brought me down with my clit right on his tongue.

He held me like that, one arm around my narrow waist and the other around my creamy thighs, his mouth moving like Jimi Hendrix playing a guitar with his teeth (What? We all have Youtube!).

“What does she taste like, Cyril?” asked his wife, my mother.

He lifted me up half an inch, long enough to say, “Like her panties, but so much better!”

She gasped, a long, shuddering gasp that spoke of intense emotion, and grabbed my torso, rotating the short distance it took to bring my small, pert nipple to her lips. She savoured it as if it were a mouthful of the sweetest gourmet dessert, and the feel of her mouth on my breast was pretty delicious for me too.

The loving embrace of your parents is supposed to be the definition of peaceful comfort, but right now I found it incredibly erotic. Their tongues and teeth stimulated my most sensitive erogenous zones, and their hands did a lot for the rest. I gave myself to the experience, my moans and gasps and whimpers rewarding them for every lightning-bolt contact.

Dad, it turned out, was an absolute champion clit-nibbler, and pretty soon I was rising to a climax under his ministrations. I suddenly had no doubt that he had been given plenty of practice at it by my sex-hungry mother, and I even wondered if there were any other women who had helped him hone his skills on their welcoming pussies. A Swedish au pair we had had some years before suddenly sprang to mind, and it now occurred to me how little time she had spent looking after us kids for someone imported to the country for the purpose. I had no evidence right now, but there was no doubt in my mind now that blonde, busty Olga had performed services for both my parents many times. “Olga the Cum-Dump” she was to me now, and the thought brought me only envy. Perhaps she had even been in this exact position on this very bed.

Dad’s hand shifted suddenly, and I felt something pressing at my sensitive butthole. With a wiggle, his long middle finger was in, probing my anus with quick, eager strokes. At the same time, his oral attentions stopped wandering all around my labia and focused hard on my clitoris. He clearly knew exactly what he was doing, and had chosen his moment precisely. The combination of oral stimulation and anal probing, plus another mouth on one budding tit and fingers teasing the other nipple was too intense, and my long, high, whimpering moan signalled to my mum and did that they had given their daughter an orgasm for the first time.

I had not expected when I set up this situation that I would be the first to cum. To be honest, I had anticipated quite a bit of resistance, and that I would have to bring both of them up to orgasm and beyond before they would succumb to temptation. I had not reckoned with how horny they were for their sexy teeny-bopper daughter’s body… or perhaps, awoken in the dark of the night, they both took this to be an erotic dream in which they could do as they wished without fear of daytime consequences. If so, I intended to disabuse them of this notion in time, but whatever advantages I could take from it now, I would.

I reached out and grasped my dad’s penis which, unsatisfied, was still rock hard. “Ooh daddy, your thingy is so big. Please daddy, stick in my fuck-hole. Little Rachel wants her cunt filled with man meat.”

Dirty talk in a cutesy tone, the perfect combo. Before I knew it, I was flat on my back, his rigid member pressing at my entrance, still slick from his saliva and my own secretions. I welcomed him in with an eager, panted “Daddyyyy!”

He drilled me with wild abandon, his pelvis impacting mine hard, painfully, as his cock plumbed the very depths of his daughter’s nubile young vagina. His body loomed over me in the gloom, his breath coming in rasping moans, and as the exercise built up a sweat, his familiar manly scent awoke all my most primal instincts at once. His presence surrounding me brought up feelings of nurturing, but the violence of his pounding also made me fear, so I was simultaneously nurtured and threatened, even while being incredibly aroused too. The familiar and terrifyingly alien vied within me. A part of my mind rebelled, telling me that what was happening was deeply, irredeemably wrong, but my body revelled in the viscerality of doing what it was built for: fucking. Copulating. Gathering semen to get pregnant and continue the species.

I might have pushed him away and run then, but this intensity of experience was not to be feared. It was what I yearned for. I abandoned myself to the raging torrent of conflicting emotional currents as it whipped me back and forth even more violently than my dad was moving my body, for his manhandling and the piledriver thrusts of his cock were pushing me around the bed like a ragdoll. I would have bruises in the morning, but I didn’t. Fucking. Care. Nothing compared to this. There was no other way to this high psychic plateau, and if it meant breaking the laws of Gods and men, injuring my body, anything, it was all worth it.

I was dimly aware of my mother at the side, fingering herself, muttering lewd encouragements to both of us, and sometimes getting in a rough caress of my breast, face, butt or pulsing vagina. However, I knew she would want more, and as my daddy tired a bit from his exertions, she dived in to press her lips on mine. My upturned face was enveloped, her tongue thrusting down my throat. Her surprisingly firm breasts pressed hard against my own bulging chest. I reached out to her slick labia, and there found another set of digits, thicker, male digits. My fingers and my father’s intertwined, then separated as we went to work stimulating the woman we both loved in our own ways.

Again, that bizarre familiarity as her mouth locked on mine: I did not know that I had ever tasted my own mother’s saliva, but something deep down in my subconscious knew her taste. Thin feminine lips locked, mature woman on young adolescent. She was restricting my breathing, but that only added to the experience; the rising panic as breath grew short, until I turned and managed to gasp a couple of breaths, before diving back into her forbidden, dangerous embrace, and all the while an equally forbidden fleshy shaft pistoned in and out of my most intimate cleft, invading my body with that glorious erotic friction.

I don’t know how long we were locked in that writhing intra-familial knot of flesh, sweat and saliva and other bodily juices intermingling and making us even more similar to the most primal senses of smell, touch and taste. However long, it could never be long enough. But it had to end. Daddy’s stamina had to be superhuman to last as long as he did, but with a strangled cry and a final thrust that took my head and shoulders clear off the side of the four-poster, his penis exploded into the depths of my womb.

Exhausted panting filled the still night. I thought we were done… and then I felt a warm mouth on my gooey vulva. It seems that being a cumslut runs in the family. I lay there for a while, enjoying the sensation of my mother’s eager tongue winnowing every drop of delicious jizz from her little daughter’s vagina. Then, my libido rising once more, I had to get involved.

I lifted myself, grabbing for that still-sexy arse in the darkness, and pulled myself toward it. The shift in weight overbalanced us, and we rolled over so I was on top, staring straight into the vagina from which I had once emerged. My mouth watered with the eagerness I felt to reciprocate her delightful ministrations on my own sopping cunt.

I left them in darkness. The next day, I acted like nothing had happened. Let them wonder if it was all just a dream. Over the next couple of months, I made another few night-time visits to their bed, until they were fully accustomed to the idea of their daughter as a receptacle for their sexual desires.

Then on their wedding anniversary, they went out for a posh restaurant meal. They returned to two gorgeous naked teenage girls in their bed, one dark-haired and the other blonde, both blindfold and gagged, with hands cuffed behind their backs. Kirsty and I both had a dildo buzzing in our hairless cunts, and another stretching our sensitive little buttholes, causing us to whimper sweetly as we lay there. And, to top it all off, I had written ‘HAPPY’ in lipstick on her smooth, tight belly and ‘ANNI-VERSARY’ on mine.

Strong hands on my body told me that the message had been received well. My body was turned over to face the edge of the bed, and the gag removed, only to be quickly replaced by a different gag, this time made of rigid hot penis. A hand on the back of my head forced it down my throat. At the same time, one of the notes in the chorus of buzzing shut off, and the change in timbre of Kirsty’s whimpering told me my mother was getting involved as well.

As I gave myself over to the role of fucktoy for the night, I delighted in the final corruption of my parents to the ways of nymphomania, achieved with the aid of neatly shaved, young genetalia.

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