Chapter Text
‘Okay,’ said Wes, turning into the driveway. Frankie watched him from the passenger side, smiling at his tone. He was about to deliver some perfectly innocuous news like he was conspiring with her. ‘Jackson’s gonna be a little short-tempered ‘cause of the baking –’
‘I know how Daddy gets whenever Aunt Sally's involved.’ This particular instance had Jackson's best friend enlist him into making baked goods for her entire church congregation, and though he'd done it at least a hundred times before, it always stressed him out.
Wes raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Yeah. So kiss him hello, scarper up to your room, and he'll welcome you for real over breakfast tomorrow.’
‘I get the picture, Dad.’ It was Frankie's third time going home from college for the weekend, and she felt like she'd heard the same monologue every time. Without waiting for a response, she hopped out of the passenger seat, grabbed her backpack, and jogged in through the front door. There was no pandemonium inside the house, no smoke staining the ceilings – as always, Jackson's cupcakes were cooked to perfection and cooling while he carefully iced the details onto the first batch. The air smelled like sugary cinnamon, as it so often did, and for a second, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Frances felt like a little girl again, a knee-high toddler instead of the young woman she was now, watching her slightly neurotic father agonize over his social and professional obligations, knowing he'd always do anything for her. Feeling true love.
‘Hey, Daddy,’ she chirped, coming close. She waited for Jackson's steady hands to finish their icing stroke, watched him exhale, then pressed a quick kiss to his temple.
‘Hi, pumpkin,’ he said, tongue sticking out cutely from between his thin lips. ‘Sorry, you know I –’
‘Yeah, Dad told me.’ As if on cue, Wes walked into the kitchen, the picture of the surprisingly hot sitcom father.
‘Dad told you what?’ Wes asked, affectionately patting her arm on the way to rest his chin on his husband's shoulder.
‘Nuclear launch codes.’
‘Oh, yeah, well, I figure you're old enough to deal with that responsibility, if you're old enough to leave us behind and go to that big city university.’
‘Just drop the payload now so I'm freed from this kitchen nightmare,’ Jackson grumbled, mechanically icing the cupcakes lined up on the counter.
Frankie watched Wes loosely throw his arms around Jackson's middle, leaning against his back and bantering back and forth in a hushed tone. With their faces close together, it was clear how handsome they were, in similar ways: both had strong features with dominant noses and pretty bowed lips, and short dark haircuts of similar color and texture. Jackson's eyes were bright green to Wes's brown ones, Wes was a little taller, and they had different tastes in clothing – Jackson the prep to Wes’s jock – but, otherwise, they did conform to the stereotype of gay couples looking more alike the longer they were together.
It didn't give Frankie a lot of clues about which of them was her biological father.
She knew the broad strokes of her conception. Her godmother Elise had agreed to be the couples’ surrogate after years of close friendship, and they'd used a method that left the identity of the inseminator up to chance, between the two of them. A few times over the course of her adolescence, her fathers had offered to clear up the mystery for her. They had the results of a paternity test in a sealed envelope upstairs, the contents of which only Elise and the doctors knew. Wes was on the birth certificate, but they made it clear that this was a decision borne out of his career, which had better benefits and pay than Jackson's, nothing more. And Frankie did wonder, sometimes. Ultimately, though, she'd never gone through with finding out. She figured she'd look when she was ready, but in the meantime, she loved her dads equally, and enjoyed the different qualities that characterised both her unique relationships with them and their dynamic as a family unit. Why risk making things weird and uncomfortable when she didn't need to?
‘You're looking very meditative, peach girl,’ Wes commented. He'd come up with the pet name to riff on Jackson's “pumpkin,” but after a few months of ironic use, it had become a completely genuine term of affection.
‘I'm just thinking of the stuff I have to do for next week. Schoolwork and stuff, a lot of reading and writing.’
‘If you think you're getting a lot of work in your first couple months in college…’ Jackson mumbled.
‘Well, why don't you go get a start on that?’ said Wes, stepping away from his husband to massage his shoulders. ‘You know how Jackson gets when he's in baking mode, he won't be any fun until tomorrow. And I need to be here for moral support.’
‘And to eat all the cake scraps,’ Jackson added.
‘I gotta get paid somehow.’
‘Alright, you guys carry on with your SNL skit and I'll go do some work,’ Frankie said, picking her backpack off the floor with a wave in their direction.
And she did try to get started on her essay. She even laid out a barebones summary of her points. But, as the clock ticked, her thoughts kept drifting towards more physical topics. And that was her right as a soon-to-be nineteen-year-old, with full ownership of her body and sexuality. Her preferences , however, were a little outside of the norm.
She could get off to straight porn, easily. But if given the choice, she'd always prefer to watch gay male smut. Oral, anal, massage, frot, she loved watching beefy guys pleasure each other, and if they were a little rough with it, all the better. Still, lots of women found watching gay porn a huge turn-on, even if not as many would confess to it as straight men with lesbian porn. She was part of a minority, but still a sizeable one. One final fact, however, made her pretty different even within this group.
In her room, she set her laptop aside, and lay back on her bed, thighs pressed tightly together, rubbing while a familiar heat pooled between her legs. She'd never really questioned why watching men fuck turned her on so much. She vaguely wondered whether it was some byproduct of having two dads, but it didn't feel worthwhile to linger on it. She just knew it really got her off, and when she was a young teenager, she would've turned to explicit gay fanart or all-male sex videos on PornHub. For a few years now, though, she'd kept a secret. Another way she got her rocks off.
She glanced at the time on her phone, decided it was late enough to do her thing, and quietly moved to her closet, where she prised off a loose floorboards with practised ease. She handwaved the little dust that had accumulated while she was away, and peered through the tiny hole she'd drilled there years ago. And on the bed below her, she saw her fathers enmeshed, naked and erect, Wes spooning Jackson and shallowly thrusting to rub his exposed cockhead along his husband's taint, pushing against his fat nutsack over and over.
Secretly, Frances bit her lip as she watched her Dad frot up against her Daddy's junk, whispering sweet words into his ear while Jackson played with his boner, eyes closed and finally able to relax after a frantic day. It was a little uncomfortable to slip her hand down the front of her underwear while laying prone, but she had enough experience doing it that she barely noticed, too focused on the show her parents were unwittingly putting on, and the delicious sensation of her fingers fondling her slippery labia, spreading her wetness all over her pussy and toying with her sensitive little clit.
She knew it was wrong to breach their privacy like this, and initially, she was consumed with guilt whenever she peeped. She didn't even touch herself the first few times, choosing to watch her dads fuck and then laying in her bed awake half the night, young cunt throbbing and hot and begging for relief after she'd turned herself on so bad. It was five years later, now, and they still hadn't noticed anything was amiss. She'd normalised it to herself, and with how horny their passionate gay sex made her, it was easy to reason it away as a harmless bad habit.
She'd worked up the courage to make the hole in the floor more out of curiosity than anything else. As she aged, she started picking up on her dads’ flirty behavior towards one another, kisses that were more passionate than usual – though still proper – and cuddling up in front of the TV together instead of sitting side by side. Comments and jokes she hadn't picked up on as a kid. When she saw these signs during the day, if she snuck out of her room at night and went far enough down the stairs to get close to the Master Bedroom door, she could hear muffled, restrained, but unmistakable moans of lust and cock-drunk whispered conversations. Listening intently, Frances was acutely aware of the blooming tickle at the bottom of her stomach, arousal sharpened by her taboo intrusion. She wanted to see what was happening behind that door. And when she remembered the loose board in her room, she realized she could.
Now, wrapped up in the moment, she let out a quiet gasp at the same time as Jackson did, when Wes's thick cumpole sank into his ass up to the hilt. Wes stayed in place for a few moments, basking in the clinging heat embracing his lust-swollen cock, stroking his lover's sides and murmuring into his ear. Frankie wanted to know how they spoke to each other in these moments, what sweet or filthy things they said, but she didn't have much time to worry about that before Wes started thrusting.
She rubbed frantic circles on her clit, spreading her girl drool over her fucknub and puffy lips, holding her hips a little above the floor for better access, in a way that made it look like she was presenting her ass – and that added to it, made her think of both her dads: her position similar to Jackson's, and wishing there was a strong man to spread her cunt or asshole with his prick the way Wes was. Below, she watched the unbridled passion in Wes's rutting, even after more than two decades with his husband. He fucked Jackson expertly, pistoning his cock at just the right angle to make them both moan every time Jackson's hole stretched around his shaft, then gripped as he pulled out. Frankie had seen Jackson top Wes a few times, too, but not as often – and anyway, although she found that hot, too, there was an added thrill to seeing her usually controlled Daddy squirming and gasping like a bitch in heat. Sometimes, when he was having serious Zoom meetings with his clients, she thought of his needy, throaty moans, and she was torn between giggling and wanting to press the heel of her hand against her pussy to encourage the sudden fuzzy heat there.
Wes's thrusting ass sped up. Even as she eyed his powerful back, muscles clenched and bulging from the strenuous fuck session, Frankie recognized the signs of his impending orgasm. Her fathers knew each other's bodies so well they were often able to sync up their climaxes. Sure enough, Wes sped up and started to suck on Jackson's shoulder, which always drove his lover mad with desire, hips bucking relentlessly while their peeping daughter added another hand to pummel her clit and finger her hungry slit at the same time, Jackson grunting gutturally until – with matching shivers, the family went over the edge. Frankie watched Wes tense up, and ride out his orgasm with slow, deliberate movements, unloading his balls into Jackson's ass. Jackson's cock stuck out from under his sack, pointing down from his body, and it throbbed as it spurted hot white spunk onto the sheets. Frances had to bite her lip not to make a sound, her own climax washing through her like a warm ocean wave, with a burst of pleasure between her thighs expanding to tingles down her limbs and in her head, making her brain hazy.
They lay in their spots, recovering, panting. Surprisingly soon thereafter, a voice filtered up through the boards.
‘Hey, so… I wanted to wait until you were more relaxed to tell you about this, ‘cause I know you have enough on your plate,’ she heard Wes say, surprisingly clear. Although she'd already more than crossed the line by watching her parents have sex, dozens of times, she still felt a weird sense of propriety about their private conversations. At the same time, she did like gossip, and she was so boneless after her orgasm that she just stayed in place and waited for her Dad to continue. ‘Mom tried emailing me from another address again.’
Frankie's heart skipped a beat. Below, Jackson groaned.
‘Can't she just – leave us alone? It's been decades .’
‘At least she's not threatening us anymore. I think she's made a weird kind of peace with us being together, even if she doesn't want to talk about it. She asked about you. But I don't think she's figured out our new names, or… Frankie.’
‘Good.’ There was a pause. Then, Jackson continued, ‘You're not thinking of actually replying .’
‘I mean –’
‘Wes. Don't be an idiot.’ This was a familiar tone, Jackson's serious voice, but edged with an iciness Frankie hadn't heard before. ‘Even if mom's finally come to terms with us, what do you think she'll do if she finds out about Frankie?’
‘Well, what can she do? We moved to this state for a reason. We're not breaking the law.’
‘She can go to the press! Mess with our jobs!’
‘And then she'd never meet her granddaughter, and she'd be permanently associated with a couple of incestuous gay perverts.’
There was a deep sigh, followed by the rustling of sheets as Jackson got out of the bed and went to rinse off and get some time alone. Above them, without their knowledge, their daughter lay on the floor, her slick leaving cold streaks on her fingers and inner thighs. She couldn't totally process what she'd just heard. She didn’t know what to think.
Had she just learned her fathers were brothers ?
She was stunned into that weird sort of space where time expands and contracts, as if trying to creep around the insanity of what she thought she'd heard – and when she blinked, she was already being called down for dinner. It was awkward, sitting at the head of the table with her dads on either side of it, the way they'd always done. When she started spying on them having sex, she spent hours imagining how impossible it would be to look at them afterwards, but in reality, her brain categorised her pussy-playing time and her family time differently. Even though her fathers starred in the former, the way she watched them was so ritualistic and labored that it was more like a porn video than their actual lives. She was able to separate their existence as sex objects and their existence as her beloved family members, and go on with her life pretty happily.
Tonight, though, she finally felt the discomfort she thought she would all those years ago. She kept her eyes on her food, and toyed with it more than ate it, hunger gone in the midst of her confusion and anxiety. Jackson would usually have noticed, but he was too exhausted from work and all that baking to do so. Still, she was so obvious about it that even Wes saw something was wrong.
‘You alright, peach girl?’ he asked. He nudged the side of her calf with his foot, under the table, to emphasise his words – and she flinched away like she never did. Wes frowned. ‘Frankie?’
Jackson was looking at her now, too. Her heart raced, and she spoke with a shrug: ‘I'm okay, I just have a headache ‘cause I'm tired from the trip, and I think my period's gonna start tomorrow or something.’
Both fathers winced in sympathy, and after he'd cleared the dishes away, Jackson gave her a loaded bowl of chocolate caramel ice-cream to cheer her up, and Wes offered to let her have the most comfortable armchair in the den while they all watched TV. She wanted to cry, to utterly lose her shit. She loved them so much, and they loved each other, and they were lovers . How could they be brothers ?!
She pretended to still be feeling unwell, and went to bed early to hopefully work the situation out in her sleep, somehow. Maybe her brain would come up with another explanation for what she'd heard. It was too much, though. By the time she managed the drift off, the sky was starting to lighten up.
And when Frances woke up, there was nobody else in the house. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she walked downstairs and confirmed that Wes and Jackson were both out. A note informed her that, unusually, Wes had been called into the office on a Sunday, and Jackson was at church with Aunt Sally.
Which gave her the perfect opportunity to snoop.
Her fathers didn't keep their bedroom door locked, and growing up, she'd often scrambled inside after a nightmare to cuddle up between them. Casting a look at the neatly made double bed, she didn't know how to feel now. Searching the web for their names didn’t bring up anything dating back to earlier than two or three years before her birth, but it was the mid 2000s and neither of her dads was particularly good with tech. Maybe searching the boxes hidden at the back of the closet would give her some definitive proof that they weren’t related.
The first couple only contained picture books and knickknacks from her childhood, swimming certificates and drawings and painted stones on which she'd clumsily depicted her fathers when she was in kindergarten. Her heart felt squeezed, longing to indulge in the memories, but she didn't have time. More searching uncovered their government documents, but it all seemed in order. They had a marriage license, different surnames before they combined them following the wedding. But Wes mentioned they'd changed what they went by. This still didn’t prove anything.
Then, Frankie found a zipped-up bag. She almost overlooked it, since it didn’t seem likely to house what she was looking for, but it was hidden even better than the boxes, wedged between a crack in the furniture. So she pulled it out, opened it, and saw dozens of flash drives, labelled, all with variations of “3 - Danny” or “3 - Marcia” – except one, separated from the others by being kept in an inside pocket. Its label read Making Frankie .
Frances carefully left the bedroom the way she found it, and went back to her room with a handful of flash drives – including the one bearing her name, which she plugged into her laptop as soon as she switched it. Truthfully, she didn't know what to expect, too confused and emotional to think of the implications of the label. A couple of video files popped up, the thumbnails blank. Heart in her throat, she clicked the first one.
And gasped loudly when the screen showed Jackson, twenty years younger, kissing Elise on the mouth, groping her naked breasts. Frankie always thought she was the coolest woman she knew, proudly alternative even as she moved into middle age, with an art gallery's worth of American traditional black and white tattoos decorating her skin and a spooky apartment full of oddities and taxidermt. For the first time, Frankie had an unrestricted view of the inked spider usually burrowed between her biological mother's rack, the illustration deformed as Jackson manhandled her perfect breasts. Before the shock wore off and she could wonder where her other father was in this situation, Wes's voice came from behind the camera, heavy, strained from desire, ‘God, it's so fucking hot watching you suck tongues. I never thought I'd see you like this, babe.’
Jackson broke the kiss to give Wes a skeptical look. Elise giggled when he commented, ‘You know I like women, too.’
‘Yeah, but you're so faggy .’ Wes's reply had Elise burst out laughing, while Jackson feigned outrage. The camera stopped moving, clipped onto a tripod, and Wes appeared in frame, naked and with a very large, very eager hard-on. He'd always been relaxed about nudity, and liked to swim in their pool and sunbathe in the nude. Frankie hadn't joined him in skinny dipping since just before she started puberty and started fretting about her body in earnest, but she'd frequently seen him strolling outside or through the house without clothes on. She'd seen his dick plenty of times, even before she started spying on their intimacy. Still, she was at an awkward angle when she watched them, and she'd never had this clear a look at his hard, bobbing cockmeat, glans almost purple and pointing straight ahead, sagging a little under its own weight. Hairy ballsack jiggling as he practically skipped closer to claim Elise's mouth with a ravenous open-mouthed kiss.
Wes was teasing his lover when he called him faggy, but what he said wasn't wrong . Frankie herself had assumed Wes was bi based on his comments about men and women, but she thought her proper, somewhat prissy Daddy Jackson was completely gay. The names on the flash drives made more sense. Recordings of her fathers’ threesomes with partners of all genders.
On screen, Jackson groaned as he watched Wes and Elise make out, still kneading her soft, pale breasts with one hand and squeezing the outline of his erection through his slacks with the other.
‘I might be faggy, but which one of us sucked the other one off first?’ He snipped.
Elise laughed into Wes's mouth, and split to chuckle freely, lips shiny from both men's spit. Her next words were like a physical blow to Frankie's butterfly-filled stomach: ‘God, you really are brothers!’
‘And you love it.’ To prove a point, Wes slid his hand past the waistband of Elise's skirt, and she sighed dreamily as he rubbed her pussy under the fabric. ‘You're so fucking wet.’
‘Let me feel,’ Jackson murmured. His fingers sank into their friend's heavy hanging tits for a goodbye grope, creamy vein-streaked skin bulging between his digits. He pinched one thick, hard nipple between his thumb and the second knuckle of his forefinger, pulling until Elise keened – then let go to roam south, tickling the skin of her torso, then diving beneath her waistline to join Wes in playing with her slippery cunt lips and clit. Even though Frankie couldn't explicitly see what they were doing, she was hypnotised by the vigorous movement beneath Elise's skirt, and the fuck-drunk, dopey look on the three faces on the screen, Elise alternating lewd, loud kisses with both men until she shivered and threw her head back.
‘I'm getting – overwhelmed,’ she breathed, sighing out a moan as Wes nibbled on her ear and Jackson sucked her neck. She swiftly ducked out of their range to pull her skirt down, leaving them facing each other with surprised expressions, which quickly turned to amused arousal as they closed the gap with a passionate kiss.
An incestuous kiss.
Her future fathers deepened their embrace, riding the high of the on-camera threesome, and Wes leaned his muscular naked body into Jackson, arms around his lover's neck to make sure their tongue waltz was the center of both their worlds. Frankie took in the lines of his masculine form, the way his hips seemed to move on their own to thrust his prick against Jackson's belly, precum stains darkening his blue button-up shirt. Without skipping a beat or losing focus, Wes reached between them to skillfully undo his brother's belt and pants – and in a second, Frances saw her Dad's drooling cock frot against her Daddy's dick, slightly thicker around but almost identical to Wes's.
Elise reappeared, every gorgeous, thick curve bared to the camera now, from her big fat tits and suckable nipples, down to the healthy swell of her soft stomach, and a shapely set of chubby thighs which only allowed the occasional glimpse of her mouthwatering slit. She watched Wes take their cocks in his hand, shiny dribbling heads nudging each other's pubis and balls, tip-to-tail – which meant that regardless of how he stroked, he was stimulating his or Jackson's hypersensitive tips in turn, like jacking off a dick with a glans at both ends. Elise's gaze shifted from their increasingly excited fuckrods to their continuous, comfortable kissing, her hand leisurely flicking the folds of her cunt at the show.
‘Just watching you guys has me on the edge of cumming,’ she moaned, focusing on her little clit with her pointer and middle fingers, touching the reddening hickey on the side of her throat with her free hand. ‘I've fantasised about this ever since I agreed to – everything – but it's so much hotter than I imagined.’
‘I know,’ said Wes, half into Jackson's parted lips. ‘Jackson's even sluttier than usual.’
‘You're one to fucking talk,’ Jackson growled. He waited for Wes to begin his smart-ass reply before ducking in close to nip his bottom lip, sucking it into pursed lips and letting go with a wet pop . Whatever comment his lover wanted to make was out of the window, replaced with more of that hot, syrupy desire. ‘You're right, Elise. I don't know how long Wes and I can do this. Watching each other with a third is such a kink, and knowing we're going to get you pregnant…’
Jackson's dick kicked at his words, nudging insistently at Wes's meat. He grinned, and looked at their friend, opening his arms to beckon her close. ‘Do you think we can do what we talked about?...’
Elise happily hopped into Wes's embrace, tackling him onto the bed. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, sideways, hard-on practically vibrating against the outside of her thigh. ‘I wouldn't miss it. I've been stretching. You've seen my dildo collection, hon, I can take them all now and squirt while I do it, too.’
‘Even that monster I got you last Christmas?’ Wes asked, impressed.
‘You know Elise. If she thinks she can fit something in her vagina, she'll do it, and if she can't, she'll make it fit.’ Jackson spoke to Elise now, walking up behind her to press his hard dick between her shoulderblades, massaging her shoulders as she cuddled up to his brother. ‘I remember what you did to my vintage walking cane, you terrible girl.’
‘And I'd do it again. You better watch out, boys, your precious baby's gonna be half my genes. If loving sex makes me a terrible girl, maybe you need to reconsider your surrogate.’
This could have been a cutting remark, but she was obviously extremely at ease, trading barbs with her friends even as their naked bodies writhed together, raising the temperature in the room to a fever pitch. On the screen, Frankie watched Elise casually caress and tease both her fathers’ erections, leisurely jacking them off as she spoke. It was like the world outside was paused while she took in the bizarre, perverted, loving showcase playing out on her school laptop. In the video, Wes shuffled up the bed, dragging his giggling friend along.
‘We couldn't ask for a better womb,’ he said, kissing her cheek. Frankie's heart was in her throat as she watched them reposition, Wes laying back on the bed half-seated while Elise lay on top of him, back to his chest. Frankie's Dad's fuckpole throbbed just under Elise's pussy, and he moaned loud when she sank lower to cover the back of his shaft with her slick lips, rocking her hips back and forth to really coat his length with her abundant heat.
‘You just can't wait to be inside,’ she commented with a smile. ‘Relax. You don't want your little brother to show you up.’
With how responsible Jackson usually was, it was easy to guess he was the eldest, but looks could be deceiving. Presently, there was no trace of the younger man's buttoned-up, considered countenance. He leaned in close to Wes and Elise's spread legs and took hold of the pulsating prick sticking out between his friend's split lips, lingering longer than he needed to. Breathing in the heady scent of Elise's twat combined with his brother's prefuck and sweaty musk, letting out a vulnerable noise of pure desire when he inhaled. Then, slowly pumping his fist along the base of Wes's dick, Jackson pushed the cock snug into Elise's slit and started to kiss and lick their enmeshed genitalia, his broad tongue running up the corded underside of Wes's cock, skimming Elise's labia, and finishing by lapping at and suckling his friend's stiff fucknub.
‘Yeah,’ Elise purred, grinding down on Wes's potent erection while she watched Jackson work. ‘Lick your brother's cock while you're tonguing my cunt, you fucking pervert.’
Her eyelids fluttered shut as he grew more passionate, spurred on and turned on by her words, noisily worshipping Elise's flexing pussy, Wes's diamond-hard prick and tight sperm tanks, pulled up close in their biological imperative to breed. In the meantime, Wes was playing Elise's body like a cello, encouraging her to fully recline on him so he could slide his palms over her painted planes, alternating a stronger touch that manipulated her soft flesh with a feathery fingertip tease. After he helped himself to handfuls of her breasts – which spilled off towards her sides under their weight, elastic bread dough in his grip – she was breathing so hard she was almost panting.
‘Christ, we're really doing this,’ she babbled, high-pitched.
‘We're gonna knock you up, Els,’ Wes growled. ‘Put a baby in you in this freak threesome. You ready for our cocks?’
‘I want them. Fuck me like I'm family!’
‘You will be, right? Isn't it crazy that pumping you full of cum's gonna tie you to us forever?’
‘I can’t wait. Let me just…’ Elise turned over, her huge breasts squishing against Wes’s chest. ‘I think it’ll be easier if I’m face down. The logistics are not easy.’
‘Hey, I’m not complaining. Easy access to these titties is just the cherry on top.’ With one hand, Wes fondled Elise’s boobs with a purpose, until he’d made her baby bottle nipples pop out from between their bodies to point towards his face. Grinning, he licked his lips, then deftly sucked both tips into his mouth and moved his head back, dry nursing on her melons so hard his cheeks hollowed out – and using his free hand to position his prick at her entrance, sloppy from precum and spit and girl drool, he thrust up and finally sank his raging hard-on deep into Elise’s cunt.
Elise’s moan came out like a shout, and she wrapped her arms around Wes’s head, only bringing him closer to her chest so he could keep suckling on her voluptuous milkers. Below, he was rutting into her pussy at a dazzling pace, hips bouncing on the mattress, balls jiggling in their tight sack, mixing up jizz to shoot inside her. It was frenzied, and Wes couldn’t keep the pace up very long, which Jackson confirmed with a, ‘Christ, I know you’re eager, but if you don’t slow down, you’ll tire yourself out and there’s no way I can get inside, too.’
‘I don’t think Elise’d complain if you ended up in her butt,’ Wes said, dropping the spit-shiny nipples from his mouth before kissing Elise on the cheek, slowing his thrusts. ‘Right?’
Although she hummed approvingly, biting her lower lip, Jackson rolled his eyes as he approached the two, stiff dick leading the way like a heat-seeking missile towards where Elise and Wes’s bodies were connected. ‘Pretty hard to make a baby that way. If I want to fuck a tight ass, I’ve got you.’
Wes laughed, labored from the effort and arousal his body was under, and stopped moving to let his brother and lover join in. Frankie’s lips were half-open, watching how Elise’s pussy wrapped tightly around her Dad’s throbbing cock. It already looked stretched to capacity – how was it supposed to accommodate a second dick, thicker than the first? There was no way. There was no way . Jackson found a way to kneel either side of Wes’s spread thighs and rubbed his drooling glans against the bottom of Elise’s twat, inches from her asshole, gently trying to press his way in only to have his dick slide off to the side, painting clear stripes of pre on her ample cheeks.
‘You have to be decisive,’ Elise murmured, peering over her shoulder. ‘It’s not an easy fit.’
‘I don’t want to hurt you – oh!’ Jackson started, interrupted when Elise reached back and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. She gave it a few approving strokes, as though testing its firmness, and blindly led him to one edge of her cunt against which he thrust – and to Frankie’s amazement, she watched his glans pop inside, pushing a gasp out of Elise, followed by the rest of his meat, the firm undersides of the brothers’ cocks sliding together, plenty lubed up. Just like that, Jackson and Wes were penetrating their friend’s slit at once, and right away, Jackson started to hump her.
‘Oh my God,’ he said, with true awe in his voice. ‘This is – Christ .’
‘Easy to tell me to slow down, but not so easy to stop yourself, huh?’ Wes said, settling into a thrusting rhythm that complemented his brother’s. ‘Fuck, this is amazing.’
Jackson didn’t reply, focused on the sensations filling his dick, his heart, his entire body. And for a while, nobody spoke, settling into the surreal pleasure of this taboo double penetration. Frances stared at her laptop, amazed, her room filling with the erotic melody of slick fuckmeat pounding a hole stretched to breaking point, flesh on flesh, underscored by incoherent, involuntary moans and whispered profanity. She'd watched plenty of porn, but she'd never seen expressions like those on the threesome's faces, a combination of religious ecstasy and deep focus. Sandwiched between Jackson and Wes's thrusting bodies, Elise seemed on another plane of existence, eyes closed and pink mouth open almost as wide as her cunt. The men made eye contact over her shoulder, and they hardly seemed to believe they were in this position either, though their rhythm didn't relent.
‘It's – so intimate , in a different way than sex,’ Jackson huffed.
Wes laughed. ‘I think this is the most sex sex I've ever had.’
‘You know what I mean. Our dicks are pressed so close together I can feel your heartbeat, and Elise's around us. At first, I didn't even think I'd be able to move , but… we're making it work.’
‘We always do.’
Jackson breathed out a laugh. ‘I'm gonna cum.’
Wes nodded and laced his fingers with Jackson’s, thick digits slipping past each other like their cocks were below the belt. Jackson arched his back, pressing kisses to Elise’s shoulders as he ramped up the pace, making Wes move faster, too, pistoning in perfect synchronicity as the whole group’s gasps and moans of pleasure grew to a fever pitch –
And with a collective cry, they managed something amazing. Three Earth-shaking orgasms, all at the same time, both brothers pushing in to the hilt to dump their potent loads deep inside their friend, the woman who’d allow them to become fathers. Behind the screen, Frankie sort of expected thick gobs of jizz to spurt out around the tiny gaps between their frotting dicks and Elise’s prodigious snatch, but they were plugging her hole up, taints and cocks pulsating as they pumped her full of thick cream.
‘Fuck yes,’ Elise hissed, snuggling up on Wes's shoulder while they seeded her fertile womb. ‘Mix that incestuous spunk up inside me.’
They both kept weakly humping their swimmers into her, and when Jackson pulled out, it was like a dam burst, a handful of viscous white semen sloshing out onto Wes's dick and balls, flowing slowly but steadily like lava. Two loads combined into one extra large gene pool. Impossible to know whose sperm would fertilize that precious egg, who would eventually become their beloved daughter, dazedly watching her own conception nineteen years later.
Wes eased himself out too, and Frankie only had a second to be amazed at Elise's gaping pink pussy before the footage ended. With the media player still in full size, the screen went black, and Frances caught a glimpse of her reflection, which could have made her start to spiral, wonder what she was actually doing , reel back from the insane amount of information overloading her senses –
But the second video on the drive started to play, and her face vanished, replaced with the obscene sight of both her fathers thrusting their big, horny cocks into a heavily pregnant Elise.
She was on her knees on the mattress, that familiar bed Frankie had spent hours cuddling up with her parents in, after a nightmare or during a storm or simply if she was sleepy when they’d finished watching a movie on the wall-mounted TV. Jackson knelt behind her, essentially holding her in his lap, bucking his hips up with quiet grunts to fuck her sloppy pussy. He alternated between groping her breasts, grown larger and more sensitive as the baby inside her grew, and running his hands over the bulk of her stomach, which showed she had to be at least eight months along. His worshipful rutting elicited lewd squelches from his friend’s sopping cunt, their slick mixing and easing his deep fucking, and the sounds were matched by the noisy blowjob she was simultaneously performing on Wes, who stood before her, loosely holding her head to keep her on rhythm, his head thrown back in ecstasy. She had no problem taking his whole pole until his balls softly slapped her chin. It was obvious she’d trained her gag reflex away a long time ago.
Jackson moaned, moving his hands to cup Elise’s generous tits, hard , as his thrusting sped up, making the flesh of her thighs and ass ripple every time his cock bottomed out inside her and his hips met her body. A moment later, he hilted himself as best he could in this position, shivered, and came inside with his face buried in her hair, spooning her through his orgasm. She sighed happily through her nose, and reared back to release Wes’s dick, leaving it slick with spit and prefuck all the way to the base. She licked her lips, and shrugged to get Jackson’s attention. ‘You know you can’t knock me up any more than I already am, right?’
‘You can’t blame me for trying,’ Jackson murmured, before dropping to his side so he could lay down on the bed, careful not to go too fast as he dragged her down with him. He remained inside her a little longer, enjoying the intimacy of his meat trapped in her tight embrace while he held her in his arms, kissing her neck and cheek in a way more reminiscent of a child kissing his mother than a lover.
Wes got on his knees and ambled closer to them, grinning. ‘Hey, you keep stealing my man like that, and I’m gonna get jealous.’
‘Hmm, who’s stealing who?’ Elise replied, as Jackson eased his soft dick from her velvet lips and lay back to bask in the post-nut endorphins. She moved from her side to supine, legs comfortably splayed so the jizz could trickle out of her pussy. ‘I’m just relaxing. Having a good time.’
‘That’s all we want. You’re our guest, after all.’ Wes crept closer, straddling her hips, until he could slap his hefty cock and balls down on the tall mound of her pregnancy. His tool still shone with her spit, which lubed his shaft enough to let him start humping her stomach with fluid movements, frotting on her fecundity. ‘God, it’s so fucking hot seeing you like this, Els. Big milky tits and big round belly. You’re like a fertility Goddess. Like I’m literally rubbing up on the concept of life .’
‘Oh, is that what you’re doing?’ Elise started playing with her breasts, pressing down and rubbing wide circles with them, her fingers skimming her stiff nipples whenever she closed a rotation. She bit her lip, eyes riveted on Wes’s thrusting cock, on the way the skin of his dick rolled with the friction, the way he’d made a slick see-through stripe on her stomach where his dribbling cockhead was squirting pre, the way his heavy ballsack squished up against the underside of her stomach when he bucked his hips. ‘I figured you were trying to fuck your daughter already.’
Jackson gasped and sat up, clearly genuinely shocked, but Wes just burst out laughing and leaned forward to take over stimulating Elise’s tits, hungrily kneading them in his hands, deliberately squeezing them in ways that made her gasp and whine.
‘You're so fucking nasty,’ he growled, pulling on her nipples like he wanted to milk her.
‘Says the guy married to his brother ,’ she moaned.
She put her hands behind her head, clutching the pillow as Wes continued to molest her boobs, and Wes started to rear back so he could penetrate her sweet cunt and bring them both to climax –
When the video cut out. For real, this time.
I figured you were trying to fuck your daughter already.
And when she was left alone with her thoughts, nothing to distract her from the beating of her heart, Frankie realized she'd never felt more turned on in her life.