Parent Seduction: Awakening

Amateur

I still can hardly believe the events of the last year, and although I’ve never written before, I thought that writing them down might help me come to terms with what I seem to have become. Maybe you’ll be able to explain it – I can’t.

I’m a rather unremarkable, forty-three-year-old woman, called Hilary. I’m about five-ten tall, only a few pounds above my recommended weight, so compared with many others, relatively trim. My eyes are brown, darker than my mousy brown hair. My figure isn’t bad, though my chest never grew boobs as large as I wanted.

I was never particularly gifted academically, and after a variety of organisational jobs, when I started my family, I set myself up as a freelance event organiser: things like weddings, parties, anything that anyone would pay me to make happen. My husband, Ethan, is more-or-less the male equivalent of me physically, but he turned out to be more talented intellectually, and he’s managed to work himself up to lower senior management in one of those large, behind-the-scenes IT companies most people have never heard of.

We have two children, fraternal twins, Mimi and Daniel, who when the events in this story began, were twenty-one, and just finishing their degrees in different institutions in the city, while Ethan and I still live in what was once a farmhouse, way out of town.

It all started less than a week before the Easter holidays, when Mimi and Daniel were due to come back home for a few days. I heard my phone ping to tell me that there was a text message, but when I looked, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a close-up picture of a highly aroused penis, complete with a drop of clear liquid emerging from the opening of the circumcised head.

I’d seen one before, of course I had, but somehow the impact it had on me was huge. I mean, it was so in-your-face, with every detail of the engorged veins down the shaft visible. I just stood there, open mouthed, staring at my phone, unfamiliar feelings running through me. No, there was no way that a picture of an erect male organ could have aroused me, was there? I was a married woman with two children, for goodness sake, and although lovemaking with Ethan had reduced to a couple of times a month, like most middle-aged couples probably, a single image surely couldn’t affect me.

It had though. I just couldn’t stop staring at it for a long time, then I started to wonder who on earth had sent it to me. I didn’t think it was Ethan’s, though the truth was, I wasn’t sure I’d recognise it if it was. Anyway, Ethan certainly wouldn’t have done such a thing.

Was I being stalked, or something? It hardly seemed likely, but I had a quick look through the windows to see if there was anyone spying on me from outside. It was a scary thought, but a little thrill shot through me at the thought that there might be someone who still saw me as sexually attractive, and not just an aging mother. Was I a MILF, I wondered, not entirely sure what exactly that meant?

When I’d collected myself properly, I saw that the picture had come from my son, Daniel. What the hell? Surely, he wouldn’t send his mother a picture of himself, would he? Even less, send a picture of someone else?

Then I saw a few words of text: ‘Hi Mim, CU 2nt’. I confess that some bad words, that I never normally would dream of using went through my mind. I immediately assumed that the message was meant for my daughter, Mimi, who we usually called just Mim, and my son had confused ‘Mom’ and ‘Mim’ when he sent it. Goodness knows, I’d sent a few messages to the wrong people that way.

But nothing like this one, of course. Was my son really sending a picture of himself to his sister? Or maybe it was someone else, one of her boyfriends, maybe, but it still left the question of why my son had the picture, rather than the other guy. Without really thinking what I was doing, I forwarded the message to my daughter, who clearly was the intended recipient.

Damn, what on earth was I doing sending a dick pic to my daughter, let alone if it was my son’s? I was just trying to work out the consequences when my phone pinged again, and a new picture appeared on the screen. If anything, this was even more shocking.

It was a close up of a … well … a vagina, two fingers pulling back the lips, so that the opening was, well, open. The message had clearly come from Mimi, presumably just as a reply to Daniel’s message, without noticing it had been forwarded by me.

I was shocked, horrified, but yet fascinated and to my shame, even a bit further aroused. I was used to seeing my husband with an erection, but not a close-up of what was between a woman’s legs. I mean, I don’t normally get to see myself, do I? Did I look like this?

Well, not quite. The woman in the picture had shaved or waxed, though I thought I could see some pubic hair left above the front of her lips. The lips themselves had a brownish tinge, making a perfect arrowhead shape, coming to a point just ahead of the clitoris, the kartal escort inner valley a beautiful salmon pink, the whole length glistening.

Hell, I’d never realised just how interesting and beautiful a vulva was, and I couldn’t drag my eyes away from it. I’d never had the slightest lesbian inclination, apart from my sister and I feeling each other’s tits while they were growing, and the sort of play at grabbing each other’s bits in the girls’ shower room at school. Yet here I was, fascinated by the most intimate parts of what might well be my daughter.

Apart from that, I was still stunned at the idea that my son and daughter were sending each other pictures of their private parts. It was disgusting, but yet horribly arousing, not just the pictures, but the thought of what I presumed was my son’s rather beautiful shaft entering my daughter’s open hole.

I started wondering whether my lips were bigger than the ones in the picture, which I couldn’t help but go back to look at. I slipped my hand under my dress, then down inside my panties, trying to feel with my fingers the size of mine in comparison. Well, that was a mistake, because as soon as I touched myself there, it felt as if something had exploded between my legs, and I felt warm, wet fluid coming out of me, making my already damp panties even wetter.

No, that wasn’t going to work, but I still wanted to find out whether I looked like the woman in the picture, and if it would give me evidence to decide whether the picture really was of my daughter. I went upstairs to the bedroom, took of my panties completely, and held myself open in front of the mirror on the sliding door of the wardrobe.

Damn, it was too far away to get a good enough look, though what was clear was that I was a heck of a lot hairier between my legs than whoever it was in the picture. I’d have to use my phone to take a picture, if I was going to get the same level of close-up to do a proper comparison.

Well, I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to photograph your bits, but if so, you’ll likely have discovered, like me, that it is nowhere near as easy as it sounds. I had to hold myself open with one hand, then guess the direction and hope the distance was enough for the camera to focus, and press the button to take the picture with the other.

I got lots of blurred images, then ones of a bit of hair and the bedroom ceiling, then ones mostly of my butt. I dropped the phone a couple of times, then had to wipe my secretions off it, only to find my fingers were then so slippery they kept sliding off the button, and I dropped it again. It must have been so funny to watch, that even I was giggling by the time I finished.

I stopped giggling, though, when I looked at the perfect shot I’d eventually managed to get. Yes, I did have larger lips, but mine were paler in colour, and the inside of my vulva was less salmon and more pink, all of which helped me not at all in deciding if it were my daughter in the picture I’d been sent.

The most amazing thing, though, was that I looked just as arousing as the picture. No, I thought, surely, I couldn’t get excited just looking at myself? I guess Ethan must have looked at me like this, but maybe it was the thought of having a picture I could send to other people that I found arousing, or, dare I think it, having other people look at me in the flesh.

I knew it was stupid, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself pushing two fingers into my hole, which was slippery with my heavily scented fluid, and rub my thumb around my clit. Shit, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d masturbated, but it felt so damn good I wished I had a lot more.

I’d forgotten just how wet and slippery my gash was when I was excited. Was it my imagination, or could I really hear sucking noises like pulling a spoon out of Jell-O when I pulled my fingers out of my hole? My vagina seemed to want to suck my fingers back inside, and I loved the way my lips seemed to curl around my fingers, trying to stop them leaving.

One hand was between my legs, while the other held my phone, and I flicked backwards and forwards between the man’s already oozing erection, and the woman’s and my own open holes. I was enjoying rediscovering the little tricks with my fingers, that would send bolts of lightning right through me, sending my arousal soaring.

Reminding myself of the way I loved it when I pinched and rubbed the very front of my slit, ahead of my clit, then pressing hard on the hard lump of my clit itself, making my knees jerk up as the almost unbearable pleasure shot through me. Why had I stopped doing this, I wondered, when it was so unbelievably enjoyable. These days, I didn’t even bother finishing myself off when Ethan made love to me, as increasingly he himself seemed to have stopped bothering to make sure I came and not just him.

I lay there, relishing the pleasure in my belly, trying to make it last, as I switched between the pictures on my phone. How could I be doing this, I thought, kartal otele gelen escort at the same time as the pleasure from the hand on my pussy sent waves of pleasure radiating right through me? I knew I should be ashamed, but the prospect that two of the pictures were of my own children, now adults of course, just added to the thrill.

Still, however much I’d wanted it to last, it wasn’t long before I came, screaming out one of those words I’d always told the kids they shouldn’t use, which just added to my shame, and I realised just what a disgusting and shameful thing I had just done.

For my penance, I spent the rest of the afternoon dusting and tidying Daniel and Mimi’s bedrooms, making sure they were spotless for when they came back in two days’ time. By the time Ethan came home, I’d managed to get myself more-or-less back to my normal, restrained self. As we ate dinner, I was wondering whether to mention the pictures to Ethan, when he decided it for me.

“You know, Hil, I had a strange message today. It was of, well, a woman’s private parts, and it seemed to come from our daughter. The only thing I could imagine was that she’d sent it to me by mistake, intending it to go to Daniel. You know, Dad, Dan, an easy mistake to make. I forwarded it on to him, but then I started to worry that it wasn’t really for him at all. I could hardly ask Mimi, could I, else she’d realise I’d seen parts of her that a father should never see?”

“That’s funny, Ethan, because something similar happened to me, but I also got a picture of an erect … um … you know.”

I explained how I’d also forwarded, and got back the same picture he had. We compared the pictures to confirm they were the same, and I could see from the look on my husband’s face, plus the bulge in his pants, that he found the thought that this was our daughter’s vagina at least as exciting as I did.

“What the hell are they up to, Ethan? Surely, they aren’t actually …”

“Who knows, Hilary? Perhaps it was some sort of college dare, or bet. But there’s nothing we can do about it, is there? They’re both adults, after all. Maybe, though, we’ll be able to get a better sense of it when they come back home, and we might even be able to give them some advice.”

“Not that they ever took our advice when they were young, let alone now.”

We cleared away the dinner things, and tried to find something worth watching on the TV. The problem was, though, that looking with my husband at what appeared to be our daughter’s vagina, had started off the same feeling between my legs, that I thought I’d dealt with that afternoon.

“Have another look at what we were sent, darling,” I said, showing him the picture on my phone. “I know you like it, but what about this one? Is it as good? Or maybe you’d like to have a good look at it in the flesh?”

I flicked Mimi’s photo off the screen, moving to the one I’d taken of me.

“Hilary! When on earth did you do that?”

I explained that I’d never seen myself, and wondered what I looked like compared to my daughter.

“Well, do you want to look or not, Ethan? Have you ever looked that carefully at my vagina?”

He said he hadn’t, but he certainly seemed to enjoy it when I laid back on the bed, legs wide apart, pulling myself open. He couldn’t cope with it for long, though, before he climbed on me, and we made love. And boy, did we ever make love! Ethan had more energy that he’d shown for a long time, and given my experience in the afternoon, I didn’t hold back using my fingers on my clit, so for the second time that day, I had a more powerful climax than I’d had for years, this time as my husband came inside me.

Well, not inside me, I was sure. No, he was thinking he was in the hole in that other picture, and I was imagining that what was in me was the bigger male organ I’d been sent, that I myself was that other woman.

Ethan, as always, went off to sleep soon after, but I lay there for ages, while I replayed the events of the day and my emotions. Were my children really engaging in incest? It was against everything we’d brought them up to believe, and part of me was angry and disgusted. However, there seemed to be another part of me with a more lenient view.

I mean, what was actually wrong with it? Clearly there are massive risks of genetic disease in close relatives having children with each other, the way lots of European royalty had, including the last Russian Tzar, whose son had haemophilia. But with reliable birth control, that wasn’t a problem, surely?

More importantly, had Mimi and Daniel deliberately sent those pictures to us? I could just about believe that Mim and Mum could be confused, as could Dan and Dad. But both together? And why did they need to be sending them like that anyway if they were just intended to be to each other? Could my children really be as wicked and dirty as to try to seduce their own parents? Surely not.

In any case, kartal eve gelen escort would I ever let my son make love to me? Would it even count as cheating on Ethan, especially if he had been imagining making love to our daughter, which I could tell intrigued him. I was absolutely shocked and disgusted that I could even ask myself those questions, but yet the idea of watching my husband fuck my daughter, while my son fucked me, was horribly exciting.

Oh God, I even used the word ‘fuck’. Shit, I’d also blasphemed! What on earth was becoming of me, I wondered, as I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke in the morning, Ethan had already gone off to work, but I realised that I seemed to have a different level of inner energy than I’d had for years. The kids were due back that evening, and I was looking forward to seeing them again. I always did, just because I loved them, but this time there was the added excitement of perhaps finding out what had happened. Unless they were just going to pretend nothing had happened.

I went to the store and did some food shopping, my curiosity ramping up in my unconscious brain as I chose items for our meals. When I got home and had put everything away, I found that my mind was full of questions. What was incest, really? Was it still illegal, and if so, had anyone actually been charged with it recently?

I opened my laptop, and typed ‘incest’ into my search engine. I’d never have predicted the volume and diversity of what it returned.

I mean, who knew that in a couple of states, and several European countries, sex between sisters and brothers is perfectly legal! And in some states and countries the laws were obviously drawn up by men, so the definition of incest involves insertion of the male member into the female, so strictly speaking, lesbian relationships, perhaps even between parents and daughters are legal as long as both consent, and the daughter is above the legal age.

Mind you, the number of prosecutions for consensual, adult incest is tiny, yet the estimates in several countries, including the USA, is that in at least 1%, and maybe up to 21% of families there has been some degree of incestual sex. How on earth did they work that out?

I didn’t really believe incest was so common, or even discussed, not until I started to look at some of the porn sites that came up through the search. I couldn’t believe how much stuff there was: often mother, daughter and son, or mother, son or daughter and girl or boyfriend, then father and daughter, often with the mother, and sometimes the son. Often the description said stepmom or stepson, although what I’d read earlier said this was just as illegal as with the actual birth parent.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the images on screen, as a succession of mothers were fucked by their sons and daughters. Yes, I’d started using the f-word all the time now, and I hardly realised that I’d slipped my hand down inside my panties, and inside my slit, which again was leaking cum already. Of course, I had to use my left hand, needing my right to control the trackpad, which itself was stimulating, as I had to learn how to masturbate with the hand I’d never used before.

Shit, I’d never really looked at porn. Well, only when I caught the kids looking and I made them disconnect, so I hadn’t realised just how good the quality was these days. The images of the cocks pumping in and out of the mom’s pussy were so clear, the way they showed the hole being stretched open and pulled around, that I could almost feel it going up inside me. Oh God, shit another blaspheme, I’d started to think of a penis as a cock, and a vulva as a pussy.

I was sliding my fingers up and down my slit, getting increasingly skilled at circling my clit until I was close to coming, then ramming them into my hole, enjoying the warm, slippery flesh inside me pushing against them. Then I’d pull out, pinch my labia between my wet fingers and thumb until my eyes started to water, finally sliding them back to the rock-hard nub of my clit.

I’d skimmed through a few videos, stopping to watch scenes that gave me the biggest tingle in my pussy, keeping myself deliciously on the edge. But then I came across one where a son and daughter decided to punish their mother for coming home drunk the previous night, and passing out on the bed.

They crept into her bedroom in the morning, and she was still asleep, her button-thru dress rucked up, showing most of her legs, and the buttons open enough at the top to show plenty of cleavage.

The son and daughter tried to wake her without success, then one of them suggested pulling her dress up some more. They did, exposing her shaved slit, as she clearly had no panties on. Oh God, I wanted that to be me, innocently letting my son and daughter look at my pussy, in return for the pictures they’d sent me.

Of course, the daughter dared the son to touch it, and in hardly any time at all, they were both fingering their mother, who still didn’t wake up. Open her dress and look at her breasts, I thought, as I took my hand off the trackpad, and pulled out one of my own breasts from my bra and blouse. Yes! They did, and then the two of them each kissed one of her nipples, then sucked it into their mouths, as their fingers were still inside her.

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