(Hello again readers... This may be my last incest story, normally it isn't my cup of tea. The idea came from a friend, JT, and originally I crinkled my nose at it, but once I began writing it, I got into the story. Thank you to RP for editing the story, and thank you for reading... Enjoy!)
*
How does a person turn the ripe age of twenty-five and still not know jack shit about who they should be with or how the hell to have any sort of healthy relationship? I suppose there are a lot of people out there who have the same troubles I do. But they can at least fake it. I don't know how the fuck to do that, though I wish I did.
Ten years of dating. Ten long years of dating. And seven awful relationships were all I had to show for it. The only person who has been a constant in my life was Abby. And I haven't actually seen her in nearly six years.
I met Abby when I was about fourteen. That was when I had taken up babysitting to escape my dad. I was tired of coming home right after school to find him scream at whichever wife he had at the time. So I'd try to have something lined up to do for most evenings. And then Abby came along.
Her workaholic parents both did their jobs until about ten at night, and then volunteered a lot on weekends to keep themselves even busier. She was too young to be left at home alone so I jumped on it And she turned out to be the most fun, and the easiest kid to take care of.
We became friends after a few years. When I left my hometown at the age of 19 to live with friends across the country, we kept in touch. Some people may think it weird for a 19 year old to keep in touch with a 13 year old, but she was the only close friendship I had. Well, in all honesty hers was the only relationship in general that I maintained over the years. Even the friends I've lived with haven't really spoken to me since I moved into an apartment on my own when I was 21. In all honesty, I haven't initiated any conversation with them either.
I feel like a fumbling idiot, and my most recent ex knew that. I guess in all fairness she has been the only one to end our relationship somewhat politely. She was the one who suggested I start taking some sort of action to figure out what I wanted in my life. Actually that was pretty good advice. I just needed to take action. But I needed to figure out exactly what I needed to do.
I haven't been back home since I was 19. I figured that would be a good place to start over for me - to try and figure out what I needed to do to find my direction. To be honest, the only thing I was actually looking forward to was getting to see Abby after so long.
The city bus rounded the corner, and my stop was coming up just ahead. It felt strange having to take the bus again to get home. I was used to having my own car. But since I wanted to get out of my situation as fast as I could I decided to sell my car and take a flight back home. I also sold most of my stuff. It's a good thing to do if you want a new start I suppose.
When I got off the bus the entire street looked different. Almost all of the houses had new siding. The yards had changed, and some new residences had been built in what had been a field behind my street. It all looked so different that I didn't feel any sort of nostalgia as I walked towards my dad's massive house. As I slowly drew nearer to the house I was beginning to regret my decision to come back.
"Too late now," I muttered to myself as a reminder.
Once I got to the front deck I notice that it had been rebuilt and stained. Judging from the lack of mistakes and flaws, this wasn't my father's work. That meant he had to trust other people with his home. That seemed very unnatural for him the way I remembered things. Old age must have been catching up to him.
I didn't have keys to get in. But my dad had said his wife would be home. So I knocked softly on the door. For a moment there was no answer. But I could hear frantic sounding steps coming up some stairs.
"Just a minute!" an anxious, and panicked sounding voice sounded from within the house. I relaxed a little, knowing that she must have been busy trying to keep things clean. My dad was a neat freak, and terribly overbearing, even though most of the messes created in the house were from him never cleaning up after himself.
When the door finally whipped open, I found myself mesmerized as I saw a blond muscular woman staring up at me. She was wearing a business blazer, which exaggerated her massive cleavage, and skirt which tightly fit her very petite waist. The breasts were probably fake, but I didn't care. My cock didn't either.
Despite looking flustered, and with her laugh lines showing, she looked stunning. The perfect trophy wife for my father.
"You must be David," she stated, beaming a brilliantly white smile. "I was just cleaning your room. I wasn't sure when you'd be home, so I came from work." She was speaking quickly, which made it more difficult to pay attention as her cleavage was a lot more attention-grabbing than her voice or the words she was offering. It was taking all the concentration, and focus I had to keep looking in her eyes rather than at her chest.
"Here, let me take your luggage. You must be tired." She took my bags from me and rushed back into the house. I tried to pull myself together and follow her back into the house, then downstairs to my room. I was glad to be following her so I wouldn't have to try and hide the raging hardon bulging my pants.
I found myself unable to pay attention to the details and changes of the house or room while she was there. It was almost as if she were blinding me.
"Um," she hesitated. "I wasn't sure how you would like your things so I - I just...um..." She was looking around nervously. It took me a moment to realize that she was expecting me to be like my dad.
"I know my own sons can't stand it when people touch their things or move them s-so-"
"It's perfect!" I said reassuringly. "Thank you so much." I smiled, and tried to hide the fact that I was really just wanting to check her out. As she began to look at me, I subtly moved my hands to my crotch area; trying to hide my cock, and holding back from proclaiming that I'd like to see what she looked like underneath the sexy secretary suit.
She seemed to be a little surprised at my kindness, and I was entranced by her eyes as she looked me up and down, almost scanning me.
"It's no problem," she replied. "Hey, listen. Your dad will be home late tonight, but I should be back in time to cook up something around five o'clock. I really need to head back to work now, though. You're dad has some appointments he needs some help with. Feel free to eat whatever you want, and do what you need to do. Just make yourself at home. Um...I'm Gina," she said as an afterthought. She held out a manicured hand. As I felt how soft her hand was as I took it, all I could imagine was it wrapped gently around my cock, tugging me into her mouth.
"It's nice to meet you, Gina" I managed to choke out. She smiled at me and briefly held my cheek, unexpectedly, in a gesture of care.
"Okay, I'll see you later!" She quickly rushed off before I felt, and heard a popping sound at my middle. Once I heard the front door close I looked down, and it didn't take much brain power to realize that I had broken the waistband of my underwear. My erection was ready to spring free as soon as I undid my zipper. I'd have to be careful before taking my pants off...and I really needed to. My cock was throbbing, and I desperately needed to get off. I could feel it pulsing against my hand while I tried to get it out.
"Fuuuuck!" I moaned.
As soon as my pants were off of my legs, I chucked them to the side of my bed, and spread my legs a little. The air gently flowing around my legs made me feel more free, and refreshed.
It only took a moment to get my cock out, but the frustration made it feel like it was taking forever! Once I was laying down on my old bed. I felt like a hormone filled teenager again as I lubricated my hand with the lotion that was always by my bed. I forgot I had even left it there. I was using a six year old lotion to lube myself. But at the moment I didn't care. I didn't bother teasing myself, or try to hold back to make it last longer. I wanted to cum, and I wanted to cum now!
I used one hand to cup and play with my balls while frantically stroking my cock up and down in the perfect rhythm that I had created for myself.
"Fucking hell!" I growled into the air.
I had trouble keeping quiet. But then remembered somewhere in the back of my mind that I was alone here. So I kept moaning and growling as I fucking well pleased.
As my lust took over, the image of her came into my head. I began to imagine her lying with her legs spread wide on my father's bed, moaning softly and touching her little clit. Fuck! The way her pussy lips would be spread would look so inviting... I wanted to watch her touch herself in reality...
