From -x-giz@noord.bart.nl Wed Mar 19 13:39:40 1997
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From: -x-giz@noord.bart.nl (Giz)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.incest,alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.incest,alt.stories.incest
Subject: some more incest stories. join the posting party! - Nightfea.txt [01/01]
Date: Wed, 19 Mar 97 18:39:40 GMT
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From: an283060@anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.incest
Subject: Night Feast (Fiction...M/S)
Date: Tue, 4 Jul 1995 22:26:25 UTC
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This is just a story; nothing more. However, if you enjoy it and you
want more, then show your encouragement and appreciation by mailing me a
GIF or JPEG in the same vein. Use my PGP key as appropriate, please.
Constructive comments are welcome. Flames will be wasted, I promise.
Night Feast
-----------
August 24th was a hot night. The slightest breeze was a relief
from the swelter that filmed my scalp and brow with sweat. Fitful naps
took the place of much-needed sleep, leaving irritable, half-fulfilled
dreams cluttering my mind. I'd long since abandoned my pyjamas for the
relative coolness of bare skin and a damp top sheet.
Barely had I achieved a form of sleep when the sound of slamming
doors brought me back to agonized wakefulness. It was 2 am and my
parents were back, staggering from their party, over-tipping the driver,
trying to be quiet - and failing miserably. Dad faced the wrong way at
first, heading down the moonlit drive instead of toward the front door.
Mom giggled so loudly that he turned around and followed her inside. I
heard the key scratch the lock for several seconds as she tried to open
the door. More giggles.
My mouth was dry and the pillow was wet. I'd already turned it
over, so both sides were now soaked. I wanted to go to the bathroom
and fetch a towel, but I heard the old man's heavy tread on the stairs
and decided to wait - I didn't want to dress and I didn't want to walk
around naked while he was around. Downstairs was silent.
The bathroom door closed with a nerve-jarring thud, followed by a
muffled curse. I heard the tap run, then all went quiet for several
minutes. Then next thing I heard was a dull crash on the floor.
Alarmed, I went to the landing and looked: the light showed from
under the bathroom door but nothing else was happening. Concerned that
Dad had hurt himself, I quietly tapped on the door - ready to run back
to my bed if he answered. There was no answer; no sound at all. Very
gently, I turned the handle and pushed it open an inch or two...and
there he was, curled up in a stupor. He was totally out of it. Worse
still, he was behind the door, blocking it from being opened. If I
was to get a clean towel, I'd have to push very hard to shift him. It
didn't seem like a good idea: I knew how bad-tempered he could be when
he was woken up...I didn't have much sympathy.
Downstairs, in the washroom next to the kitchen, was a pile a
freshly-ironed laundry. Reaching around the door, I turned off the
bathroom light and shut the door, leaving Dad to sleep of his excesses
in peace. Down the stairs I crept, to the hall, past the living room,
and to the kitchen. I opened the washroom door and pulled a fluffy
towel from the pile I found there and wiped myself down. Still
thirsty, I went to the fridge and helped myself to orange juice. It
felt great. I refilled my glass and walked to the living room.
There she was. Snoring on the couch, illuminated by the fireside
lamp. Mom wore a short, grey pleated skirt surmounted by a white Lycra
body-hugging top. Her legs, one fallen to the floor, the other draped
across the arm of the couch, revealed white panties and nothing else.
Try as I might, I couldn't look away. Try as I might, I couldn't
help the erection that lifted skyward. Maybe I was tired; perhaps I
was still half-asleep, but that skirt, the tiny cotton thing that
splayed outward when she turned, burned in my memory.
Then I saw the shiny, patent-leather high-heeled shoes, and my gut
went as taught as my cock was hard. I put the drink down, draped the
towel across my shoulder, and moved closer.
"Mon?" I whispered, hoping not to wake her. She didn't wake. I put
my hand on her shoulder and shook her. There was no reaction, except
for an exhilation of booze-laden breath. I placed my hand on the small
of her back and shook her again; still no sign of consciousness.
Finally, I put both my hands on her backside and shook her again...but
very slowly.
I lifted her skirt up, clear of her panties. Kneeling beside her,
I lifted the waistline and dipped my hand inside to caress. Then both
hands. Using both as levers, her panties slowly slipped down until
they were around her thighs.
Without resistance, I pulled her hips around until her ass bent
ninety-degress around the cushions of the couch. My left hand swept the
contours of her ass, seeking the furry warmth between her smooth legs.
It was moist. My head pounded as I wasted no time; I guided myself
into the dark triangle above her panties and plunged inside. The
feeling, the raw sensation, was indescribable. Knowing that I'd
probably never have the chance again, I just fucked. Hard and fast. I
almost forgot to reach over her shoulders, into the Lycra top, and
explore her wonderful breasts. I hadn't expected her nipples to be
hard, but they were...like little bullets. She didn't have the
trimmest of figures, but that - for me - was a plus. Her tits
occupied the full expanse of my nervous, shaking hands.
At fourteen, I could hardly be called mature. That's my excuse for
filling her with cum within a minute, still clutching her tits and
breathing harder than I thought possible. Maybe it's because I was
still young, but - though I'd shot my last round - I was still hard. I
knew it couldn't last long but there was something I'd always dreamed
of doing. Soaked in Mom's natural lubricant, I leaned forward and
thrust my cock at the opening of her ass. To my astonishment, I went
straight in with nothing but the initial, satisfying resistance of her
muscles. I went in as far as I possibly could and just waited; waited
for my erection to wane. When it inevitably did, I pulled
back...slowly.
It was harder leaving than it was going in! Whether it was my doing
or some natural reaction, I didn't know - and I certainly didn't care -
but her ass was incredibly tight. I was erect immediately. At the
point of withdrawal, I changed my mind - and went straight back in. And
out. And in again. My breath came in short bursts - I found myself
holding my breath as I rammed her beautiful ass - until I came again.
It wasn't as spectacular as the first, but somehow it was better. I was
utterly spent.
Back, finally, resting on my heels, I did what I could to wipe her
clean with my towel and rearrange her clothing just as it was before I
found her. With trembling legs, I made my way back to the stairs and
started to climb, exhausted, up to my room.
"Goodnight," came a quiet, slurred voice behind me from the living
room.
I ran the rest of the way. Considering the conflicting emotions
I felt, I slept very well. Very well indeed.
Nine months later, my Dad was imprisoned for embezzlement. Two
months following that, my fifteenth birthday arrived...and I'll
describe how I unwrapped my main present later.
What a birthday that was!
Sir Galahad
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