First, thank you for your patience with the long delay between chapters.
Second, thank you all for your kind words, encouragement, and more on Sharing a Bed with Daddy Parts One, Two, Three, and Four, all of which you should read before this one for context.
This is the fifth part of an incest story, and it's a bit different.
This story takes place between a twenty-six-year-old daughter and her father, and up until now it's been told from the daughter's point of view.
However, at the end of Part Four her dad's sister caught them making love.
That wasn't because I was intending for Aunt Becky to join in having sex with them even though lots of comments and private messages have expressed a desire for me to do that.
This is a direction I took the story very intentionally because I wanted the opportunity to write a story that would change narrators for a chapter or two.
So that's what I'm doing here. This story you're about to read will largely be a flashback told from Aunt Becky's point of view. It starts and ends with the daughters point of view as bookends.
It takes place in 1992 when Aunt Becky was nineteen and her brother was twenty.
That isn't to say that I'm against writing about group sex. Check out The Skylark Solution series that I've written for an example of that.
But I wanted this story to be a little more about the intimacy that goes along with sex, and for this set of characters I'm finding that that is easier to convey in one-on-one encounters.
As with all my stories, this takes place in a happy alternate reality where people don't worry about pandemics, std's, or the need for birth control.
Enjoy reading!
IsabellaEmily
~~~
From Part Four
I lowered my wet pussy onto his hard cock, determined to ride him to his edge and then suck another load of cum from his cock.
I started rocking my hips up and down, and felt his hands grip my thighs as he groaned again.
I raised my head as I felt my cunt spasm, and found myself looking at my Aunt Becky.
She stood in the room, two feet from the mattress staring at us.
I stopped moving and gasped.
My dad lifted his head.
"Well I can't wait to hear this fucking story." She said with a grin.
~~
This is my Aunt Becky's story, and I'm going to let her tell it.
I heard it for the first time a few hours after she walked in on me being fucked by my father. Being caught in the middle of sex is always awkward, and having it be your dad's sister certainly adds to the weirdness of the moment.
And if it's your own father whose cock is inside you when she catches you, well that's a level of strange that I can't even describe.
The moments after she walked in were extremely tense, but I quickly realized that she wasn't angry. I found that confusing, but she assured me that she wasn't judging us at all.
At their request I gave her and my father some time and room to talk, and after an awkward hug with her, and a sort of fatherly and sort of sexy and completely strange-because-my-aunt-was-watching-us hug and kiss from my father I headed back to my hotel.
I showered, got into clean clothes, drank most of a pot of coffee, and paced so much it nearly wore a hole in the carpet of my room.
At noon she knocked on my door, carrying a sack of sandwiches, several bottles of water, and more coffee.
"Your father and I agreed that it's probably past time to tell you a story about he and I and our relationship." She said.
She set the food down on the table near the window and turned to look at me.
"You're old enough to know of course," she continued, "and you'll understand I think. It will also help you understand why I'm not upset or even surprised by the way things have worked out between the two of you."
"Okay." I said, feeling unsure about where this was headed.
"So sit down, let's have some lunch, and let me tell you a family secret." She said. "I've never told this to anyone before, so it may take a while. Make yourself comfortable."
I took a sip of coffee and sat down at the table.
"I'm all ears." I said.
"Alright," she said with a smile, "here goes."
~~
This is Becky's story.
~~
It was the fall of 1992, and my brother and I had just moved into a rented house together. I was nineteen and he was twenty.
Just a few months prior to that we'd been attending colleges on opposite sides of the state. But then our parents died in an accident, and we spent the summer after their funeral packing up and selling off the contents of the apartment they'd just moved into.
All summer I'd been unsure whether I was even going to go back to my classes that fall. I had spent a lot of time that first year going to parties and making friends and enjoying the social aspects of higher education.
However, I hadn't spent much time studying or being serious about the opportunity. My grades wouldn't have kept me from returning, but I'd been wondering if college was a good fit for me.
Unlike myself, my brother spent all his time studying. If anything, he was too serious. His only friend was his roommate.
He was anxious not to lose his scholarship, which was going to cover all four years if he kept his grades up, so I guess I don't blame him. Although at the time I certainly teased him.
After the funeral he and I talked it over, and if I didn't return to school, I was going to have to get an apartment and a job, since we didn't exactly inherit a fortune.
He begged me to stay in school, but I'd been relying on our parents much more than he was, since they didn't exactly offer any scholarships for sleeping through class.
What I really wanted to do was take a year off and figure out if college was even something I wanted.
Somewhere in our conversation we decided that if I moved up to school where he was, we could use part of his rooming allowance towards an apartment, and if I got a job I could cover the rest of the rent.
I could take my year off like I wanted, and he'd be there to help if I decided to enroll.
After losing our folks so suddenly, I think we both liked the idea of being close to family.
We rented the top two floors of an older three story house, with a kitchen, bathroom, family room, and decent sized bedroom on one floor, and the second bedroom up a narrow flight of stairs on the third floor.
The rent was cheap, it was clean and quiet, and best of all it was within walking distance of campus. He got me an interview with the campus bookstore, and I just like that I had a job with steady and decent hours.
We split the cleaning and cooking as evenly as our schedules allowed. It was a crash course in both of those things for the two of us.
We ate a lot of sandwiches and spaghetti while we learned to cook other things.
I set about trying to get him to loosen up a bit and go to a few parties, and he sat down with me and showed me how to make and stick to a budget.
The house was old and a bit drafty, but so was the house we grew up in, so we were used to dressing in layers and sleeping with lots of blankets on the bed.