Author's note: This story is most likely fictional fluff. You should read the prior chapter to grok the fullness. All sex involves humans aged 18+. This A TASTE OF INCEST tale includes incestuous bisexual group fucking, some little harmless watersports, and a token fetish Mustang; if you object to such, stop reading. Views expressed are not necessarily the author's, who has stayed in the Sellwood during a heatwave. Your constructive comments are welcome. If you like this, join the 1%ers and VOTE!
*****
An Taste of Incest:
Limonada con Soda
(Mom & Sis are so fizzy!)
*****
"Oh fuck, Mom, oh fuck..." I gasped.
My big-titted sister Ronni stood behind me and supported me (after pinching my nipples) while I just blew the biggest orgasmic load of sperm in my sweet short life down the thirsty throat of our hot young mother. Holy fuck! I never expected this!
And we were outside, stark bare-ass naked under the sprinkler in our back yard. Good thing we had a high fence.
"Yes, we'll have to clean up outside more often," Mom said huskily. "But I think we should take this indoors now. And I don't know about you kids, but I could use more lemonade."
This Saturday afternoon was one of the hottest ever known in normally cool and clammy Portland, Oregon. If I had not been close to a meltdown before, I sure was now! Burning sunshine and naked flesh just had me steaming. After our hard, sweaty, grubby work on my Mustang, we NEEDED that cleanup under the backyard spray. But the mutual masturbation? And Mom's great BJ? Holy fuck!
We staggered to the covered back porch. Ronni passed around fresh fluffy towels from the cabinet beside the back door and we dried each other off.
"Lemonade? We're out of Sunkists and kiwis so it'll have to be different," Ronni said. "How about
limonada con soda
like in Guatemala?"
"That sounds fine," Mom said. "But first..."
She pulled her daughter to her and slipped her fingers into Ronni's wet wildness, and then sensuously licked her dripping fingertips.
"Mmmm, you taste good too, baby. I think we'll be having some more taste-testing, yes? And we won't need to slave and sweat on a hot car to justify it."
Ronni had already tasted Mom's sexual juices. I had not tasted either of them. Not yet. But, soon?
Even soaking under the sprinkler, and quaffing quantities of Ronni's fruity, icy lemonade while we worked, we were still dehydrating in the freakish desert-like heat. What is the best remedy? More lemonade! And with our remaining ingredients, it's
limonada con soda
, Mayan style.
I watched Mom and Ronni work together to make the next batch: juice the Meyer lemons and Key limes; crush the ice and cane-sugar crystals; gently add fizzy soda.
They stood side-by-side at the kitchen counter, naked, looking almost like cousins if not quite sisters. Almost the same good height, big tits, and bubbly butts; similar shades of stringy dirty-blonde hair; almost the same smooth skin and taut muscles; very similar motions, gestures, and voices.
And their faces? Different eyes and noses; same chins and cheeks; similar lips; variant ears. Ronni had dimples; Mom had freckles. But the resemblance trumped their differences. And lots of exercise kept them equally trim.
How close otherwise? I grew bold. I quietly stepped behind them. I laid my hands around their wide hips, rubbed their firm exercise-flat bellies, moved downwards to their fluffy vulvas, and slowly inserted my fingers into their wet vaginas. Their legs spread and their giggles echoed as I gathered small samples of their nectars.
I tasted Mom. Mmmmm. I tasted Ronni. Again, mmmmm. Very close, yes.
Mom gently slapped my hand and pushed me back. "Enough for now. More later. It's time to rehydrate. Drink up!"
Ronni stood the icy pitcher and clean tall glasses on a bamboo cabaret tray. "C'mon, guys." Hips swaying, she led the way out to the wide swing on the covered back porch.
I somehow ended up sitting between their naked bodies. Our hands tended to wander, to palpate, to feel. My hands tended to explore their beautiful breasts. Their hands tended to stroke my crotch cobra, which tended to grow and stiffen.
Limonada
tended to get spilled in the most inopportune places, and needed to be licked off, of course. Which is how I found myself sucking Mom's puffy nipples and fluffy areolas while Ronni cleaned my balls and cock with her twirly tongue.
And
limonada
was splashed a little further, a little more energetically and deliberately and laughingly. Which is how we ended up together in the master bedroom's big ensuite shower, washing off remaining stickiness.
Washing carefully, yes. And peeing out all that lemonade. Ronni pressed against me in the shower, squishing our bladders together.
"Uh, just a minute, I need to..."
"Oh, you don't have to leave, to go. Just cut loose right here."
Mom pushed beside us. "Oh yes, good idea. Just like this..."
She threw her arms around my neck, bent her knees slightly, and relaxed. Her pale yellow current streamed onto my foot and washed away in the brisk shower spray. She moaned and held me tighter. Ronni followed her lead and similarly drained, sighing loudly as her golden flow washed my other foot.
I thought, I might as well get with the program, or go with the flow, or whatever. I aimed my cock at the drain and started to syphon my python, but demanding hands reached from each side and changed my aim. My sturdy stream was flicked across their legs and our feet.
"Hey, that's pretty pervy," I complained.
"It's a traditional treatment for athlete's foot," Mom said. "Think of this as preventative medicine. We don't need any fungus among us."
We all drained well and thoroughly, and rinsed and washed each other again, being particular with the sensitive bits. Is that clean yet? Lick it and find out!
-
I have never thought of myself as a perv. Sure, I always admired my mom and sis. They look so hot! But no obsessions, no. I have really had only five loves in my life for as long as I can remember: Suzi-Q; Mom; Ronni; my Mustang; and plate tectonics. Not necessarily in that order on any given day.
