I expect these stories will end up copied and pasted on another site like my last ones did, right "Tom"? You talentless nerk.
All characters engaged in sex are of legal age.
*****
Margaret Ash had lived a hard life. Her husband became violent when her kids were little, but she would have died to protect them and she had nowhere to run to if she left him.
Her twin children, Jessica and Robert - usually 'Jessie' and 'Bobby' -- had just turned eighteen and the three of them were secretly planning another attempt at a new life when great news came to them. The bastard was in jail. Margaret knew he'd be there a very long time; she knew the crimes he'd been accused of committing and had willingly assisted the police, plus they had dna evidence on him.
Her children were due home from school any moment and she was bursting with the news. When they arrived, noisily chatting as usual, their banter ebbed away when they saw their mother's beaming face.
Bobby spoke: "Oh look at her with the big grin. Did we win the lottery?"
"Better than that. We won a break from your dad. He's in jail and won't be out for five to eight years. And we'll be long gone by then!"
The twins looked incredulously at each other then rushed to hug her and each other all at once. Jess had as much to gain as her mum, she always seemed to pull his trigger without ever knowing why.
They went and sat on the couch together, Bobby in the middle with his arms around 'his' girls.
Margaret had her twins when she was seventeen. Her own father -- a man to be reckoned with -- made sure she married the father and that was what caused the resentment and violence to fester in him. Now, at 35, she was still a very pretty woman. Her long brown hair was almost always in a pony tail, which made her look young and bouncy. She was slim, even athletic in build with square shoulders, deliciously rounded hips and firm buttocks, a smallish waist, and shapely legs.
She had high cheekbones and soft, brown eyes over pouting lips. She knew, though, that her breasts were her most alluring feature. Her C-cups were crowned with dark round nipples that pointed straight out. Heck, they barely jiggled even when she brushed her teeth naked.
Her daughter was nothing less than a younger version of herself in facial features but ten pounds heavier, most of it in her tits. They were fuller and gave her a cleavage even in a v-neck t-shirt. Her face was rounder, too, but otherwise the joke that they looked like sisters was true for them.
Bobby was taller than them both, quite muscular, and tight like a wire. His short curly hair was lighter and he was handsome in a rugged way -- the rugged part was a result of a bent nose his father gave him when the twins were fifteen. Bobby stood between him and Jess to protect her from a raised fist which landed on him instead. He knocked his father down for the first time that night.
And now, snuggled together on the couch in the first glow of a life without fear, they relaxed into each other and planned the next steps of their lives. After about an hour, Bobby realised with some embarrassment that his right hand had somehow found itself beside and under his sister's breast. She held it there with her own hand; he was not quite cupping it, but it was not really appropriate either. Jess and his mum were in some detailed conversation that he'd tapped out of, so now he was focused on the warm flesh weighing on his hand. He kept still, thinking that she hadn't realised but by moving it he'd signal that it was there.
Minutes passed, and the conversation changed. They were talking about him now so his interest peaked. His mother said: "Mmm, it's so nice to be close to a man. I mean, Bobby, you've been the only real, decent man in our lives for so long now. It's really a good feeling."
With that she hunched her shoulders and hugged his hand to her. In doing so, his splayed fingers ended up square on her breast. He had to act -- she'd done it inadvertently, right?
"Er, mum. Could you, um..." He decided to lighten the problem with humour. "Jeez mum, you're hot and all but do you really want me groping your boob?"
She laughed. Jess looked across to see and laughed too saying "Hey! I thought we'd already agreed this family shares everything equally from now on!" Then she put Bobby's other hand on
her
breast. Bobby gulped while they giggled.
"Oh OK very funny. Have a laugh on me, no problem, but this is pretty awkward for a hormonal teenager you know!"
They were all laughing. His mum spoke again: "Oh Bobby, relax. It's so good to have a caring man's touch after so many years." Jess joined in with a little tease: "It's good to have a caring man's touch for the
first
time, too."
They giggled again but still Bobby had one hand being held to his mother's breast and the other to his sister's and their giggling made friction between his flesh and their orbs.
"OK you two", he chided, "I'd love to be all cosy and platonic about this and
most
of my body is complying, but I can't help..."
They'd always been close and honest with each other as a sort of team victory against the violence. It was not the first time either of them had made him horny, but it was certainly the first time Bobby had openly told them they were giving him a woody.
Margaret's eyes and mouth widened in a pretence of shocked amusement but his sister was bolder: "Oooh Bobby. Are you getting a boner?"
Out of reflex they looked at his crotch and they would have noticed a swelling despite the heavy jeans he wore. He said nothing but he was blushing -- highly unusual for him.
They relented and released his hands. In truth he could have pulled them away if only he'd tried, and they both must have known it.
The chatter recommenced but Bobby was disconnected from it and only partly joined in. He was flushed hot and his prick wouldn't relent. The fact that the breasts he'd touched belonged to his mother and his sister was a faint, distant fact; the more immediate truth was that he'd
liked
the feel of them. He was grateful when his mum went to the kitchen and Jess went to do some homework.
Finally, while reading a book, his erection faded. After the evening meal, which for once was focused around
them
and not the absent
him,
Jess went to bed early and his mum sat reading on the couch. Bobby decided to pamper his mum and brush her hair like he used to as a child.
Standing behind her, he undid the pony tail and fluffed her hair out. She rested her head back and closed her eyes. She loved this, an intimacy she had shared with her son many times over the years. Bobby knew how to ease her into a pleasure doze with slow brush strokes and by massaging her shoulders afterwards.
This time, though, he found himself trying to manipulate her blouse as he rubbed her shoulders to see down her top. It was a collared black cotton blouse, the top two buttons were open, and the contrast of her pale skin against the dark fabric had drawn his eyes there. As if it were part of the massage, he made sure the top of his mother's blouse was as wide apart as possible. He was then able to see a good three fingers' width of cleavage and to the top of her plain black bra.
He'd seen her bra before of course, even her cleavage from time to time, but he was still charged from the teasing contact with her breasts earlier. A thought eventually penetrated his resistant mind -- he wanted to touch them again.
He usually confined his rubbing to her shoulders and neck, but this time he ventured gentle strokes around her throat and downward. Sometimes he boldly pushed so far as to touch the top of her bra before retreating. When he did he could feel the firm flesh of the tops of his mother's breasts on his fingertips and again, with more rigour this time, his cock swelled and pushed against the restraining material of his jeans.
His mother spoke in a half-sigh, half-whisper: "Oh Bobby. This is so nice baby. Thank you." He got bolder. On one downward adventure, he left one hand with the fingertips at the top of her bra while he continued his caresses with the other. Slowly, giving her time to protest but hoping that she didn't, he pushed the invading hand down until he had two fingers to the first knuckle between her bra and her skin.