Prologue
When I got home from work that Saturday night, my parents and my sister were in the kitchen. They were getting ready. Mom was on one of her cell phones.
"That's fine. I'll let you handle it. After I hang up, I will not be available until Monday morning. If there are any emergencies, contact Marcia. Everything else can wait. Alright? Great. Bye."
The she picked up her red phone. She had it custom made. Only family and Marcia had the number. "Marcia? OK. I'm leaving you in charge for the rest of the weekend. Don't worry, you'll be fine. You know all the protocols, and have access to all the files. You're the boss, now. Be a boss. I'll call you first thing, Monday. Bye, hon." It was rare to see mom let go control like that, but she powered down both her phones and turned her attention to me.
"Derek, sweetheart." She opened her arms and hugged me. "Are you going to join us tonight?"
I hesitated.
"Aren't you coming to mom's 'party,' bud? You know we want you there." My dad smiled as he stepped up to us. He and I were the same height, and mom, who looked so tall in her heels was almost petite standing barefoot between her two hulking men. She unzipped her dress and started to climb out of it.
"I'll think about it," I said.
"I hope you'll be there. It will make it even more special for me," mom stood in her bra and panties, her dress over her arm. She controlled a multi-million dollar company, ran it with military precision, but with family, she was much more gentle. She leaned upwards and kissed me on the lips. "Now, I need to rest." With that, she went upstairs to their bedroom, dad close behind.
"You are such a douche," my sister Ellen, punched me in the shoulder. She was much bigger than mom, fuller breasted, rounder hipped. "Why won't you come? She wants you there." She flipped off the kitchen light, and in the dimness stepped directly in front of me and looked me in the eyes. She played the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. "It will be fun. You will like it." Her hands began to rub my crotch.
"I don't know. I still can't get my head around what happens," I said. I slipped my arms around my sister's waist and pulled her into me. "You guys do some crazy, weird shit, I don't really know what, but I don't think I can handle watching mom..."
"She wants it. She needs it. And she needs you to be part of it. You can't keep saying no. You shouldn't." My hands had already worked their way under the waistband of Ellen's track pants and were cupping the cheeks of her ample ass. "I'll give you a blowjob," she said.
"You'd give me a blowjob, anyway," I said. I pressed my mouth to her lips and drank the sweetness of my sister's kisses. Her hands had already worked open the front of my jeans, and she started stroking my thickening cock. Ellen, started kissing down my neck. I unbuttoned my shirt, and her wicked little mouth found my right nipple and began to tease and nibble and suck. I placed my one hand on the back of her head and gently pressed her mouth harder against my chest. Her attention to my nipple became more ardent. My other hand slipped under her t-shirt. There was no bra and her big, soft breast was a feast for my touch.
The urge got to me and I started pushing her head down towards my throbbing cock. She yielded, tugged my jeans and underwear down to my ankles and kneeled before me. Her hands wrapped themselves around my cock and balls and started pumping, slowly. Her lips and cheek brushed the head. Her tongue tickled my balls.
"You want me to suck your cock, little brother. I'll suck it, tonight, at the party." With that, she let go of me, stood and was up the stairs in a flash. She stopped in front of the door to her room, turned to face me. She blew me a kiss, opened her mouth and rolled out her tongue, as if to receive me. Then her door slammed shut, and I was left in the dark kitchen, pants around my ankles, my cock standing in lonely attention.
When I got to my room I found the white bathrobe neatly folded on my bed. You were only supposed to wear the white bathrobe to the 'party' and nothing else. You were even supposed to remove your watch and other jewelry, although I knew that my father kept his wedding ring on, as did my mother.
For years, the white bathrobe was placed exactly like this on my bed, ever since I turned eighteen, and for years I refused to put it on and join in. Instead, I would go out all night returning at the crack of dawn, often drunk, to a house that was still and quiet. When I would emerge from my room the next day, hung-over and dazed, there was a calmness to my family, though I would not see mom until Monday morning. Then the normal, frenetic life of my family started up again. No one would talk about what happened at the 'party,' and everyone acted as if it hadn't happened, until my mother would casually mention some months later, at the dinner table or at breakfast that she needed to have 'something special,' again. "All right, dear," my father would say, "when?" And the planning would start. They started calling them 'parties' because it was easier and simpler, and they could be discussed in front of friends and neighbors without actually giving away what happened.
There was a time when there was a horrible tension in our house. There were hushed, but very intense arguments behind my parents' bedroom door, and there were Friday nights when my mother would disappear, returning Monday evening after work, with no explanation and nothing more to say about it. I know my parents went to counseling, and shortly after that ended, my mother began quietly asking my father for 'something special.' That's when the 'parties' began.
