Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

It wasn't a conscious decision, but Frankie's behavior around her dads started to shift. She only saw them on weekends, at least until Christmas break, so there was plenty of downtime between visits to let thoughts and actions percolate. The weekend she discovered the family secret and rubbed her pussy raw watching the threesome videos, she was a little too shell-shocked to do anything, and in fact, she worried how she'd act when she spoke to her parents after a night of gooning to their sex tapes. 

It turns out that spying on their lovemaking for years had prepped her poker face perfectly.

Over breakfast, they spoke about Jackson's busy social life and Wes's late-term involvement in the work Fantasy Football league, which his well-meaning colleagues had assumed he wouldn't be interested in on account of having a husband. 

‘I told them HR'd want to hear about their deliberate exclusion of LGBT employees, and when they said I'm the only queer in the department as far as they knew, I told them that was worse,’ Wes recounted between sips of coffee, smirking. ‘It was hard not to crack up. They were very relieved when they saw I was joking and just wanted in.’

‘You probably shouldn't be antagonizing your entire workplace, but it is pretty funny,’ Jackson commented. ‘Do you want some more orange juice, pumpkin?’

‘Yes, please,’ Frankie said.

‘I'm not antagonizing my entire workplace. Just my dumbass straight coworkers. And they love it.’

Jackson rolled his eyes, and Wes continued needling him throughout the meal, waiting until Jackson was taking the crockery to the kitchen to sneak up and prod him in the ribs, which earned him a loud ‘watch the plates!’

Frankie usually found their antics fun to watch, like she had her own private comedy duo at home. They'd always been like this. Playful, teasing.

Brotherly.

With her new knowledge, it was hard not to interpret everything through a suspicious lens. She was an only child herself, but she'd been around friends with siblings, and she'd been around friends’ parents, and Wes and Jackson's relationship was definitely more brotherly than the other parents she knew, but clearly romantic. Maybe she should have guessed sooner? Or maybe she was seeing things that weren't there because she knew a secret she was never meant to discover. There was a lot of information swirling around in her head, so much that she was only able to pick up on one shocking element:

Seeing their totally platonic interaction right now was enough to make her cunt heat up.

Frances noted spikes of arousal whenever she saw anything cute or playful between her fathers the rest of that day, and the confusion didn't end when she headed back to college early next morning. Was it seeing them with a woman that made her interest in their fucking bleed over into her own sexuality?

She thought about this in the background of every moment, and when she was out at the mall with some friends, the desire to know her dads more intimately crept into an unusual purchasing decision at a lingerie store. The following weekend, she came down the stairs for breakfast Saturday morning in a get-up that made her parents blink.

‘Are those pajamas new?’ asked Wes.

‘Are those pajamas?’ Jackson followed up.

Frankie glanced down at herself. She wore what was essentially a bra and panty combo, though the ruffly tube top included small balloon sleeves. The bottom was high cut, clearly showing where her thighs met her crotch, ribbons tying it together sitting high on her hips. It was pretty, with embroidered butterflies adorning the fabric.

The sheer fabric.

As she walked, her beautiful full boobs swayed in the loose garment, their color plainly visible through the tulle – and her dark, suckable nipples too, growing hard as they grazed the material… and as her fathers’ eyes scanned them. The panties had strategic floral embroidery to hide her slit, but her wispy pussy hair was displayed for all to see, charming on her chubby pubic mound.

‘You don't like them?’ Frankie asked, turning around to show her elegant back and nice round ass. No cover-ups here: the glory of her smooth, pear-shaped cheeks flashed in front of her fathers. When she finished showing off, she saw Jackson had averted his eyes already, caught between wanting to chastise her inappropriate outfit and knowing there wasn't much he could say when she'd only wear the clothes indoors.

Wes, however, had not looked away. He hadn't noticed her watching him yet, and she saw how his gaze lingered on her breasts, framed sexually for the first time in his perception. She shifted her stance just enough to make her tits jiggle, and a jolt of lust hit her clit when the tip of his tongue poked out to lick his lips. It only took a second, but she noticed. She knew her Dad wanted to have his mouth on her teen titties.

His attention snapped to his husband when Jackson coughed, and put his hands on his hips. ‘I always forget just how big you are now, Frances. You look beautiful, but… if you're wearing that for – a college boy, just be careful and know you can tell us anything, okay?’

‘Daddy!’ Frankie blushed, even though she was trying to turn her fathers on. It was still hard to separate her thoughts and instincts from her familial feelings. ‘I bought this for me. I wanted to feel… sexy.’

‘And there's nothing wrong with that,’ Wes cut in. Despite his usually silly demeanor, he knew when to be serious, and he'd always treated body positivity with the respect it deserved. ‘She's a grown woman, Jack. And she looks beautiful.’

His husband sighed. ‘You always look fantastic, pumpkin. I know you're an adult, of course… but you'll always be my little girl, and it's – hard to adjust.’

‘It's okay, Daddy. I get it. But I don’t want to dress provocatively or anything in public, just… at home.’

‘Whatever makes you feel good, peach girl,’ said Wes.

Jackson nodded, and although he was still clearly uncomfortable with what she wore, he smiled at her. ‘It’s very tasteful. I actually saw a sheer dressing gown with a ruffled trim that’d work really well with it just the other day. Maybe we could check out that store sometime.’

Frankie grinned, and went to take her seat at the breakfast table, crossing her arms and resting her tits on them to make her chest more prominent, in a discreet way. Her nipples stood firm, like erasers, and when she caught Wes glancing at them a couple more times during the meal, the pops of arousal that fizzed through her boobs down to her crotch felt almost like physical caresses.

She knew that, whatever she wanted to achieve with her dads – which she still didn’t totally want to admit to herself – she’d start with him. She’d have to wear down both their barriers at the same time, especially since it’d take longer with Jackson, but she thought she’d have a better hit rate with Wes earlier on. Not because he was a pervert. He’d never done anything to make her feel uncomfortable or weird, though in her teens, she’d been embarrassed by his tendency to sunbathe and swim nude in their pool. For a self-conscious adolescent, it would have been odd not to feel that way, even though he was always dressed normally when she had friends around the house. He was definitely the cool dad, more freewheeling. Add to that the sexual adventurousness Frankie had seen in the videos and the knowledge that incest clearly wasn’t a red line, and the possibilities made her feel fuzzy inside.

She wore her lingerie around the house often the rest of her time there, and by the second weekend, it was pretty normalized. Jackson was back to looking at her without awkwardness, and Wes gave her his usual teasing little slaps on the butt if he was going up the stairs behind her, even though he was touching her bare ass cheeks. Being able to openly show off her naked breasts around the house had her cunt warm and a little wet almost all the time, but to her frustration, although her fathers behaved completely normally around each other, they hadn’t had sex when she could watch ever since the last time. Secretly, she hoped they’d be fucking like rabbits when she started showing more skin, proof of their arousal around her, but it was early days yet.

The weekend after that, she reminded Jackson of his comment on the sheer dressing gown, and the family decided to spend the morning at the mall, to do a little shopping and grab a bite to eat. In the car on the way there, while Jackson and Wes chatted, Frankie sat in the back with her heart hammering, because she was going to push the envelope further with her Dad. She wore an outfit that was just her style, youthful and preppy: a cute blouse with a light jacket, a plaid miniskirt, and tube socks with tennis shoes.

No panties, and as of last night, no pubic hair.

Walking around in public without underwear was its own thrill, one she was reminded of every time she felt a breeze caress her pussy lips, or when she needed to be careful squatting down to look at something on a low shelf. She’d definitely do it more when she was back at college, because it was fun. That might have sufficed as a lesson in and of itself, if she hadn’t had the perfect opportunity in a shoe store about an hour into their mall trip.

There was a sale on sandals, and they all agreed she might as well get a couple of pairs of those plus some new boots for the winter. Frankie sat down to take her shoes off while Jackson went to look for her sizes and Wes stuck around to keep her company. There was a mirror right in front of the bench, so customers could see how the footwear looked from various angles. Her knees were in frame, tight together to cover her naked crotch.

Her pulse was fast, and she felt herself blush. After checking around to make sure it was just her and her Dad, Frankie put one foot to the side, then the other, opening her thighs to flash her cute little shaved vulva at the mirror. Instantly, she was struck by how erotic the sight was, the boldness of showing her naked slit in the middle of a busy store, and she bit her lip at the sight of her clit twitching as the surge of horniness reflexively made her hole clench.

‘Hey, Dad,’ she said, voice steady.

‘Yeah?’ he asked, looking up from his phone – and right away, she heard a quiet gasp. She wasn’t sure if she should play it off as an accident or not, but his follow-up forced her to make a choice. He put a hand on her shoulder, standing behind her, and murmured, ‘Peach girl, I think you’re showing more than you think.’

‘What do you mean?’ She turned her head to look up at him, and to her delight, she saw that his eyes were still riveted on the reflection of her slit. She’d shaved bald to make sure she could give the clearest view of her twat, and it was obviously having an effect.

‘I mean – I know you aren’t wearing any underwear, ‘cause I can see,’ Wes replied quietly.

‘Oh, that.’ Defying the anxiety streaked through her excitement, Frankie shifted in her seat to make her kitty jiggle, the chubby lips trembling and the button of her clit quivering. Wes’s fingers squeezed her shoulder. There was a glimmer of girl drool low on her lips, hinting at the lusty fuckhole hidden out of sight. ‘You said there’s nothing wrong with me wanting to feel sexy, and the more I thought about it, the more I figured you’re right. I don’t want to wear revealing things outside, but going commando in a place like this makes me… I don’t know, but it’s great.’

Wes’s hold on her slackened, and he ran his fingers through her silky hair, which made goosebumps ripple out on her skin. Her Dad was stroking her head while gazing at her blushing, turned-on cunt, and that made his touch feel even better.

‘Yeah, I know what you mean,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s a harmless bit of spice. But if you know your father’s there –’

‘That's why I did it. I'm safe if you're here to be on the lookout so I don't get in trouble. I mean, I love Jackson just as much as I love you, obviously, but you know he's kinda… funny about this stuff.’

Wes didn't have much of a reaction, outwardly, but he didn't move away. Instead, he stood close behind her, and for a crazy moment, Frankie wondered if she'd feel a boner begin to push between her shoulderblades – though she didn't. Instead, he said under his breath, ‘Alright, get your fill, peach girl.’

Frankie glanced around, verifying there weren't any voyeurs spoiling the moment. When she was sure it was just her and Wes, she splayed her legs out further with a deep sigh, skirt riding up so high her mound wasn’t hidden from any angle. Peering to all corners of the store, Frankie luxuriated in the sleazy decadence of flaunting her teen gash to the world, until...

Wes coughed when Jackson approached, carrying the shoes Frankie wanted to try on. She put her legs back together and tugged the bottom of her miniskirt down her thighs, gratefully smiling at her Daddy. When she leaned forward to slip the footwear on, her upper body and hair hid her lack of panties, and by the time they left the mall a few hours later with a couple shopping bags in tow, Jackson was none the wiser about his daughter's risqué game.

Although she was still buzzing with excitement as she settled into the backseat for the drive home, Frankie was a little concerned about the vibe around Wes. He'd behaved as he usually would, never missing an opportunity to crack wise, but he hadn't acknowledged her deliberate wardrobe malfunction after they left the shoe store. Frankie figured he'd like having a naughty secret with her, proving a shared interest in kinky sexuality. Was it too much, too soon?

She was fretting over her decisions when she tuned into what Jackson was saying while rummaging through one of the shopping bags, ‘... and even though it's looking like a pretty hot Fall, these sweaters are just to die for, aren't they? You'll look so cute in yours, pumpkin.’

‘I don't know if I'm still aiming for cute, Daddy, but I guess I'll take it,’ Frankie replied, jovial.

‘You can't help it, honey. You're always adorable. Right, Wes?’

He was driving, this time, and he'd just eased out of the parking space. His gaze flitted from the road to his brother, then back again. ‘We're biased, but he's not wrong. Maybe you'll wear that sweater sooner than you think, Frankie. You're really feeling the breeze today, huh?’

To cap off that sentence, he caught his daughter's eye in the rear view mirror and winked, which had a two-fold effect on Frances: relief flooded her heart, and arousal flooded her cunt. She moved her thighs against one another to send tingles through her puss, lightly stimulating her clit as she grinned back at him. Later, at home, Frankie didn't push the issue beyond wearing her now-customary lingerie around the house, but whenever she caught Wes's eyes lingering on her body, her heart beat a little harder, a shiver ran down her spine.

The next opportunity came a weekend later. Wes had had a little time to process Frankie's behavior, and an unseasonable heatwave had everyone in her hometown sweating. This late in the year, it was probably the very last pool weather day, and Wes wasn't going to let it go to waste.

From the second storey window, Frankie watched her Dad wander around the garden in nothing but his flip-flops. He was taking the time to do a little maintenance – water the plants, skim leaves off the surface of the water – without sacrificing his beloved naturist time, and from a distance, his daughter watched his big fuckhose swing between his legs. She'd often seen him naked outside, but until recently, she'd avoided getting an eyeful of his powerful dick and balls. Maybe she'd been concerned her neural wires of family and sexuality would get even more crossed.

Turns out those wires weren't just crossed, they were one cable.

Inside, Frances cast a last look at herself in the mirror, checking how the bikini fit. It was flattering, sexy, but very appropriate as far as swimsuits went – in fact, she'd purchased it with Jackson the previous year. She was building up to something, and it needed to start normal.

Wes craned his neck to look at the sliding doors when he heard them open, and let out a pleasantly surprised oh when he saw his little girl. ‘Hey, Frank’s Red Hot. Joining me out here?’

‘Yeah, I can't even remember the last time I sunbathed with you.’

Wes nodded, and lay back down while Frances put a towel down on the adjoining deck chair. From this angle, she could stare at her Dad's soft cock, resting in the crook of his right thigh, his ballsack relaxed between his legs. He had sunglasses on, and she wondered if he was gazing at her tight young body, shiny with suntan lotion and ready to bake.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the heat, the sounds of birds and the wind and distant lawnmowers. After a while, Frankie said, ‘Dad?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You know how I used to run around naked in the garden on days like this? When I was little?’

‘I sure do. You were like a greased up piglet with all the sunscreen we put on you. Even if we caught up to you and tried to steer you away from the pool, you slipped away like a bar of soap.’

‘Oh my God, stop. And don't call your daughter a piglet.’ Her outrage made Wes burst out laughing, and although her lustful plot always hummed in the background of their interactions, Frankie’s heart warmed at this good old-fashioned exchange. She really did love her fathers, very much. ‘Well, what I was trying to say is that I… I’d like to try that again. Part of my whole body-positive, finding myself kick, you know?’

Wes sat up, criss-cross, and smiled – but it was loving, this time, without the silly edge of his earlier guffaw. ‘That’s great, peach girl. Good place to do it, too. The neighbors can’t see, and I’m the only one here.’

‘That’s what I was thinking. Don’t really wanna jump into going to nude beaches and stuff.’ She paused, half for effect, half because she really was anxious to continue. ‘But, um…’

‘Yeah?’ Wes put a hand on her shoulder, soft and warm.

‘I mean, I want to do it, but I feel kinda – paralyzed if I think about doing it myself. Do you think you could… help me take off my bikini? And I’ll lie down on my stomach, so it’s less scary for my first time as an adult.’

Wes raised his eyebrows, clearly not having expected that, but nodded, guardedly. Frankie smiled, and lay down in a prone position, arms crossed under her chin. ‘Thanks, Dad.’

‘No problem,’ he said, tone neutral. Moments later, Frankie felt a tug on the string of her top. ‘I’ll start with the bra, okay?’

‘Be weird not to.’

‘You’re right. Being topless is less weird than Donald Ducking it.’

She snorted, and at the same time, the tug became more insistent until the knot between her shoulderblades fell apart, her boobs sagging just a tiny bit, already pressed flat against the chair. Wes repeated the action on the string around the back of her neck, and she lifted her upper body just a little to let him pull the bra out from underneath her. The place where his hand had rested on her shoulder, reassuring, seemed to emit fuzzy particles. She wished he’d touch her body while he did this, but the mere knowledge that one of her fathers was undressing her was making her pussy drool – and she’d saturated the crotch of her bottoms with girl slime earlier, because she and Jackson had kissed each other on the mouth that morning.

But those details are for the third chapter, all about Frankie’s slow seduction or her more prim and proper Daddy. Right now, in the garden, she felt Wes sit on the edge of her chair, and she lifted her butt to give him easier access. She had to repress a shiver when his fingers fanned out onto her hip.

‘No strings on this one, huh?’

She hummed in the negative, and bit her lips out of Wes's sight as he hooked his middle fingers under the fabric on both hips and dragged them down – until the easy movement of the fabric was halted, just a little, by the copious pussy spit sticking the crotch of the panties to her plump lips. It was just a matter of continuing to pull, but this resistance made Wes pause, and Frankie was left like that for a few moments, cute asshole heated by the sun and pointed right at one of the men who'd raised her from birth.

‘Dad? Everything okay?’

He cleared his throat, and she knew he'd been admiring the way the material moulded to her pretty vulva. Was he hard? ‘Yeah, it's nothing. Let's, uh, bare it all.’

With that, he peeled the bikini bottom off her horny little snatch, revealing her flushed and slick-coated labia up close to him for the first time – and as she felt the temperature and breeze caress her cunt, she heard him sigh… or was it a groan?

With both holes naked and under her father's scrutiny, Frankie knew she'd only grow wetter, and wondered how clearly Wes could already see her clit pulsing with lusty involuntary spasms, if he could smell her arousal. She gently shook her ass from side to side, as though merely enjoying the freedom, and she was about to play it off –

When she felt her Dad’s finger sink into the flesh of her buttocks… and his thumbs sink into the edges of her meaty outer labia. And pull.

‘Oh,’ Frankie gasped, as the peachy halves of her cunt slowly spread apart to reveal the pink insides of her ravenous fuckhole. Her vulva glimmered with girl drool, strands of her slick connecting her walls, although Wes was only looking at the very entrance of her hole. Cool air caressed places that had never been exposed, and she pretended it was Wes blowing straight onto her opened slit, which made her clench and tremble in a way he had to notice.

‘There,’ he said, before letting go and moving off the chair. Frankie heard him speak behind her. ‘Just figured – you were a little stuck together down there, and it’d probably be more, uh, comfortable. Like this.’

‘Thank you,’ Frances murmured into her crossed arms. She wanted to stay on her stomach, to avoid contradicting what she’d told her Dad earlier, but she quickly glanced over her shoulder to see that he was heading to the pool, facing away. The water would be very cold, which he knew. Almost like he needed a shock to the system to get his mind off… something. Something inflating his big, manly cock.

Frankie bit her lip, settling back with her chin on her forearm, and smirked when she heard a splash followed by a loud yelp. Her mind was buzzing with what had just happened – and the fact he’d addressed it. He hadn’t technically touched her horny gash, but only just, and he’d manipulated it. Made it move. He hadn’t just had an eyeful, like she planned, he hadn’t been able to resist gripping her ass cheeks and satisfying some curiosity.

And that was a very good sign.

Over the following weekends, she continued to apply the same pressure. It became too cold to nudism outside, so she was glad to have made her bold move when she could, giving them even more secrets to share. Still, a holiday medley was upon them – Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas – which meant a lot of trips to the mall and specialty stores to satisfy Jackson’s high festive standards. More public trips meant more chances to show her cunt off to Wes.

A sample outing went like this:

The family crowded into Jackson or Wes’s cars, and while making conversation with her parents, Frankie kept her thighs tightly shut and enjoyed the vibrations that shot straight to her clit whenever they drove over a rough patch. Sometimes, her mouth would still tingle from the feverish kisses traded with Jackson, behind Wes’s back, and it only turned her on more, made her more excited for what was to come.

They arrived at their destination, and although they spent time browsing stores together, Jackson would inevitably proclaim he’d gather everything he needed by himself to save time, and leave Wes and Frankie by themselves, in a store that could interest one or both, or in the food court.

That was her time to strike.

This time, they sat side by side on a padded couch in a secluded part of the mall, after grabbing a couple of soft drinks, and Frankie sighed as she pulled on the front of her scoop neck shirt to aerate her body. This showed a good amount of her cleavage, but it was still within the bounds of propriety, her teen titties safely contained by her bra. ‘They always have the temperature too high in here.’

‘It’s Fall,’ Wes said, shrugging. His eyes had flashed on his daughter’s boobs, but only for a second. ‘Most places are still figuring out the balance between summer A/C and winter heating. And the temp’s been all over the place this year.’

‘Look at us, talking about the weather.’

‘We had to run out of topics eventually. Sorry you had to find out adulthood gets boring so fast.’

Frankie took a sip of sweet tea, mischief glittering in her eyes. Wes raised an eyebrow, a small smile on his lips. They’d been through this routine a few times now. She knew he knew what to expect.

‘We can make our own fun,’ she said, stretching out sideways on the couch and resting her strappy heels on Wes’s thigh. They were seated away from the crowd, and it wasn’t particularly busy today – which was just as well, because now she’d propped her legs up like this, her father had an unrestricted view of her bare cunt and asshole, short skirt riding up just enough to show off her holes. He lay one hand down on her ankle, absently stroking her smooth calf and shin while he gazed at his little girl’s exhibitionist display. He stared a little longer every time she flashed her pussy at him, and now, he was taking his time appreciating the fine fuckmeat before him.

Heat pooled between her legs, and she wondered if he could see the blush overtake her slit, the lips filling with blood saturated with sex hormones. Sharing this perverted version of an inside joke with her Dad made her giddy, and with desire fuelling her, she grabbed her right bare buttock and pulled to make her cum tunnels wink at him, flashing the hidden pink insides of her anus and vagina. Was there a security camera pointing their way? Would the guards watch this back and wonder if they were sugar baby and daddy, or would they palm their hard dicks through their pants, guessing at their family ties? His eyes widened, and she giggled, poking her tongue out at him.

Wes's fingers gripped her shin, mirroring her hold on her sex, and discreetly, she inched her foot further up his thigh, towards his crotch, to see if there was a reaction –

‘There you are!’ Jackson exclaimed, shopping bags dangling from his hands and forearms. Frankie casually swung her legs off her Dad and smoothed her skirt down, ensuring she was presentable. She wanted to see whether she’d caused a tent in Wes’s pants, but he was just as quick as her and crossed his legs, draping one arm across his lap and the other across the back of the couch, casual. Jackson continued, ‘You really know how to pick a spot, guys. Took me forever to find you.’

‘It’s where the cool kids hang out,’ Wes said. Watching her parents banter when she’d just been teasing one of them with her slit was bizarre, but thrilling. ‘You know, smoking in the alleyway and stuff.’

‘Well, cool kid, come help me with these bags before I pull a muscle.’

The outings were variations on this scenario, Frances flashing Wes as the norm rather than the exception. She wasn’t sure how to move forward, already pretty happy with the dynamic they had going on.She’d masturbated plenty of times to the memories of her risky game, to Wes’s expressions when he caught sight of her vulva. She was waiting for him to do something – and about two months after she started putting her plan in motion, he finally did.

It was early December, at this point, and the last weekend she’d be home before coming back for the longer Christmas break, since she’d skip next week to stay in the dorms and study. She came down for breakfast, sleepy despite having washed her face, eager for coffee. After greeting her dads, she took her usual seat at the table, leaning back on the chair and breathing deeply to try and mitigate her frequent yawning. She wasn’t feeling particularly sexy, but wearing her see-through two-piece pajama was a habit by now, and she propped her beautiful teen melons on her crossed arms.

Jackson went to grab a new bag of coffee beans from the pantry, lecturing Frankie about ways to relax during exam season, and she sipped her orange juice as her gaze floated over to Wes, who sat on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, higher up.

Any sleepiness evaporated from her mind.

Wes was facing her, legs spread, feet on the circular rest of the one-legged seat. This wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that he'd hiked one leg of his boxer shorts up his thigh, and hooked it over the side of his huge swollen cock to give her an unrestricted view of his hard-on and brimming nuts. She’d seen his limp dick plenty of times, and his erections during her furtive spying sessions and in the videos she’d secretly watched, but it was a whole different matter being mere feet away from it. Her Dad’s hard penis was weighed down by its own size, meaty, foreskin clinging to the flared bottom edge of his shiny pink cockhead. Frankie’s eyes flitted up, meeting his. He winked, grinned, and reached down to place his index finger on the back of his prick, at the base, where he proceeded to rapidly push down and release so his heavy breeding rod jumped up and down, swaying like an excited dog’s tail.

Frankie only had time to shoot him a broad smile before they heard Jackson walk out of the pantry, prompting Wes to discreetly tuck his boner in his underwear and tug the bottom edge of his shirt down so his husband would be none the wiser.

His husband. And brother.

They had breakfast like usual, but the whole time she was listening to her fathers’ anecdotes or discussing plans, heat permeated Frankie’s entire body at the knowledge that Wes was hard and throbbing throughout this ordinary family scene. She found it difficult to focus, way too turned-on from the forbidden secret she and her Dad shared, which Jackson was completely oblivious to – and the increasingly erotic kisses she was privately sharing with her Daddy, which Wes didn’t know about… again, though, those are details for the third chapter. 

Right now, Frankie was focused on Wes. He’d finally done more than tolerate, play along. He’d taken part in their secret game. He was showing very active signs. Time to push it over the edge.

The decisive moment came the first Saturday of her Christmas break, which was also the first day she was back from college since that key exhibitionist moment, something she and Wes hadn’t discussed yet. The family were going to go out for a meal the following evening to celebrate the end of her exams, but today, Jackson was out with Sally for a church event that simply couldn’t be rescheduled. Casually, as though the sexual tension between them wasn’t thick enough to cut with a knife, Wes suggested he and Frankie spend their night alone indulging their shared love of so-bad-they’re-good movies. In the context of her current degenerate obsession, this meant she could cuddle up with her Dad and rest her head on his lap, which is exactly what she did. 

He only wore boxer shorts and a t-shirt, and by moving a certain way, she could rub her cheek on his pliable bulge, his cock skin separated from his daughter's face by nothing more than thin cotton. The film wasn't sexy in the least, but the tension between them had been building for weeks, stalled out by forced academic separation, and to her delight, Frankie soon felt his meat begin to swell. Her heartbeat was in her cunt, and for the first time, she blatantly kissed Wes's swelling pole through his underwear. It was like closing an electric circuit, a jolt travelling down her spine and straight to her clit, like she could feel her own phantom dick rise, like she was taking Jackson’s place in this love game. Above, she heard her Dad breathe in hard, and let out a shaky breath. His penis was getting warmer against her face. She swore she felt it pulsate.

‘Peach girl,’ Wes said, voice startling in the relative silence of the darkened room, but tone gentle. ‘We need to talk.’

‘About what?’ she asked. She felt his half-hard dick move against her cheek. God.

He laughed. ‘I think you know what about. It's starting to poke you in the face right now.’

Frankie's pulse was racing. It needed to come to this, of course, with both her parents, but Wes had been the first to broach it so directly. She'd expected it to heat up with him first, but it was still a surreal, impossible situation. She wasn't sure what to say, and all her mental preparation evaporated, so she just followed her instinct, turned her head slightly, and pressed a very loud, obvious kiss through his shorts to his stiffening shaft. Wes groaned, the hand he had loosely draped over her waist flexing, grasping her bare side. She sighed at his touch, and this close, she was sure she could smell the first musky hint of his arousal. Had a droplet of precum slipped out of his slit?

‘You like that?’ he said. He was stroking her side now, keeping to the space between her crop top and the waistband of her shorts. His fingertips seemed electric. ‘You like flirting with your dad?’

‘Yeah,’ Frankie sighed, snuggling against his boner. There was a definite scent of alkaline precum, which she recognized from freshly discarded underwear in the family laundry basket and a couple of sexual encounters with boys in high school and college. She was surprised at how stiff the member she rubbed her cheek and lips against was, a rigid core with a soft, hot outer layer. She'd either been made by it, or been bathed in its hot spunk when Jackson shot her out of his cock, deep into Elise’s slutty cunt. ‘I keep thinking about your dick, Dad, and it makes my pussy throb like crazy. You being so supportive of me exploring my kinks… it made something click. I finger myself thinking about your meat reaming out my cunt.’

She heard him moan, and she watched the tent in his boxers, straining the buttons of his fly. Through the gaps, Frankie could make out the tantalizing shape of his rigid fuckpole, down to the veins spiderwebbed over the surface. She did that. She made him fuck-ready.

‘I don’t know about all that,’ Wes said, voice thick with lust. His fingers slipped under the waistband of Frankie’s shorts, and softly caressed the smooth, full expanse of one ass cheek, every completed circle telegraphing new droplets of girl drool to her sweet slit. ‘But we can… we can have a little harmless fun, I figure. If you’re sure it’s what you really want.’

She smiled, glancing up at him. His pupils were dilated, his chest heaving with each deep breath. Harmless. She wondered if he’d crossed a mental line where sexual contact with his daughter was harmless in his mind, or whether he’d always been there because of his decades-long relationship with his brother. Frankie wanted to find out. Later.

‘It is what I want,’ she murmured, locking gazes with her Dad as she blindly unbuttoned his fly and, for the first time, grazed the velvety heat of his erect cock with her fingertips. Her heart was beating almost painfully, equal parts insanely turned-on and nervous. He didn’t stop her as she continued to stroke his hard-on, not yet daring to grasp it, but already far past what a parent and child should do. ‘You want it too. That’s why you showed me your boner at breakfast.’

‘Hey, when you say it like that, you make it sound like you weren’t the one flashing me your little pussy,’ Wes replied, skimming the back of his daughter’s cunt lips with his index and middle fingers, making a point – and instantly wetting his digits with her copious sex slime. ‘God. I can’t believe I’m talking to you like this. When did you…?’

‘I wanna explore my sexuality more. And it’s a little scary at school, but with you, it feels safe. I love you, Dad.’

Wes squeezed her ass, then withdrew his hand to stroke her back instead, more affectionate than lewd. ‘I love you more than anything, Frances. And I’m – well, obviously, I’m okay with having some fun with you. No strings attached. Except… we’ll have to tell Jackson about it. I don’t want to keep secrets from him. That’s now how our relationship works.’

Privately, Frankie thought of the path she was leading her Daddy down, seducing him slower but just as steady as Wes. He hadn’t told Jackson about her exhibitionism, or she would’ve been given a talking to by this point. Still, she didn’t want to argue, so she just turned onto her stomach and batted her eyelashes up at her father.

‘I understand.’ She shifted the leg of his loose boxers up his thigh, and with a little gasp, she watched his dick practically jump out of its confines. It was extremely real, now, after she’d experienced it in tiny portions: just seeing it on a screen, then in person, just smelling it, just barely feeling it. Now, she had the whole package inches from her face, a hot droplet running down the shaft. ‘Maybe you can talk to him… later?’

Wes chuckled, and wrapped his masculine hand around the base of his prick, another drop pearling at the tip as he purposefully moved it towards his little girl’s mouth. He was acting fast, and Frankie wanted him to, letting his desire rule his brain before he could come to his senses.

‘Yeah, later,’ he murmured, before feeding Frankie his rock-hard fuckmeat.

The first touch of his slick, hot glans on her lips was electrifying, sealing the permanent change in their relationship. His prickhead forced her mouth open wider, the salty taste of his now-flowing pre coating her tongue as his thick daddy pole slid inside her wet little yapper. His other hand came to rest on the back of her neck, which felt equal parts comforting and commanding, and when she felt those fingers twitch and heard his repressed groans as her lips and tongue started to worship his meat, she was instantly hooked on blowing her Dad.

Whatever B-movie they were watching continued to play on the TV, muted dialogue and flickering lights contributing to the dreamy atmosphere in the room. As Wes’s glans bumped against the back of her mouth and she did her best to relax, so his bitch-breaker could start to edge inside her tight throat, so she could keep sucking him off without pausing to adjust, she thought of the hundreds, thousands of times she’d snuggled up with him, head in his lap, perfectly comfortable and relaxed. Of all the times she’d rested her face on his soft prick, even after she’d started spying on her fathers having sex.

As she felt his cock throb in her mouth, tasting the prefuck dripping down her throat, her muscles massaging the sensitive head, she was amazed that they’d gotten to this point at all – and Wes was clearly thinking the same thing, because when she settled into a rhythm and started tuning ambient stimuli back in, she could hear him murmur as he carded his hand through her hair: ‘Fuck, I’m doing this to my daughter, I’m fucking my baby girl’s mouth, Jesus Christ.’

He started thrusting, hips humping off the couch. Shallow, at first, but when Frankie hummed in approval, making her throat vibrate around his desperate member, he went for it in earnest. She kept her head steady, and concentrated on breathing through her nose to let him use her face like a fleshlight. He seemed impossibly thick, now, the sides of her mouth stretched taut around his massive girth as he pumped back and forth in her incestuous heat – and it was that thought that made her think of her fathers’ relationship, of the fact this pistoning prick had been inside Jackson’s mouth, his asshole. Inside Wes’s brother.

Frankie was suddenly aware of how achingly horny her neglected pussy was, and when she reached down her shorts to finally toggle her pulsating little clit, she moaned unrestrained around her Dad’s thrusting dick. The added stimulation had Wes grunting in return, his hand flying from the back of his daughter’s head to grope her plump young ass and cover her hand with his own, over the cotton of her bottoms. Encouraging her to stroke her pleasure nub, to slide her fingers inside her kitty, send waves of pleasure through her body and brain as she stroked her slick walls –

‘Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum – I’m gonna cum, honey, can I bust in your mouth? Can I shoot my load down my baby girl’s throat? Hng…’

Frankie wanted it, and showed him by taking his meat as far inside her as she could, his trim bush tickling her cheek, balls tapping her chin as he kept trying to make love to her sweet mouth – and that eagerness, that full-length embrace inside his daughter’s throat, it was just what he needed to tip over the edge, potent wriggling sperm rocketing up from his cum kegs, through the impressive size of his pole, and straight down Frankie’s welcoming gullet to rain down into her stomach. His prick throbbed with each rope that coursed through, and though his child loved the feeling, the impossibly horny taboo line they’d crossed, she struggled to cope with both his pumping cock filling her airway and the blasts of thick man cream pouring into her. Mid-spurt, she pulled back, letting the semen frost her lips as she got her breath back with a grin.

‘Oh, Frankie, are you okay?’ Wes asked, leaning forward to look at her face. 

This surge of paternal worry she knew so well while her mouth was caked in his spunk and his still-hard cock was hanging out was equal parts funny and hot, so she just smiled brightly at him and slid off the couch to kneel between his legs. ‘I kinda made a mess, Dad. Sorry. I’m not used to sucking dick yet, I’ve only done it a couple times before, and you’re so big and you cum so much. Lemme just…’

With that, she leaned in to clean the spit and fuckslop off his member, careful not to overstimulate the head as she lapped the shaft and let it slide around the slippery half of her face, spreading slick all over. Above, Wes groaned, and carded his fingers through her hair.

‘Damn,’ he breathed. ‘You keep going and I’ll be the one making a mess soon.’

Frankie giggled, and kissed her father’s ballsack, jizz running down her chin. That suited her just fine.