Dear readers, first of all, I would like to clarify something. This is not a work of fiction, unlike many of the stories you might encounter here. I mean no offense to the authors of such pieces, but this is something entirely different. I have genuine respect for you, and for all those who desire sexual relations within the family whether they have experienced it or not, or whether they have experienced it but kept it to themselves.
My story is, in essence, a confession that challenges today’s hypocritical society; it also serves as an argument for why incest should be legal. You may criticize it, you may agree with it, or you may disagree that is up to you.
I would like to begin by detailing the background and history of my parents’ families, before moving on to my own story how I became a part of this world, and what my thoughts are on the matter.
My mother’s family: We often talked my grandparents, my mother, and I about how physical pleasures should not be denied, even when it comes to one another. But let’s take things in order!
Back then, there was no shame in beginning one’s sexual life at an early age (14 or 15). This was the case for my mother and her younger sister. When the right moment arrived, my grandfather showed both of them how to embrace their womanhood and how to channel their sexual energy. As a result, before she met my father, my mother had been intimate with only two men: my grandfather and one other guy. The same was true for my aunt. My father’s family: My father lived with his older sister and their parents. Their parents’ mindset was similar to that of my mother’s family, so the foundation for their future was already in place. However, my father’s sister remained a significant presence in our lives even after she married, and she visited us often. There was always a deep, loving bond between the siblings, which I could clearly sense—much like the relationship between my mother and my grandfather.
How my parents met: There’s nothing particularly unusual about it. They attended the same high school, though initially, neither knew what was happening in the other’s home life. At first, my grandfather even took issue with my father and mother sleeping together. How did it all come to light? Well, through certain glances, overheard remarks, and questions culminating in a night when my mother opened herself up to my father, physically, emotionally, and with complete honesty. They embraced each other’s lives and pasts, deciding that they would pass on their own philosophy of life to me and my younger brother once we were born.
How we became involved in incest: Like many others, we used to spy on our parents while they were fucking. After a while, they knew we were watching them, yet they never said a word to suggest we shouldn’t be; in fact, once we were old enough, we were even allowed to observe them from up close. I ask you, dear reader: isn’t it better and more practical for your parents to demonstrate how a man should treat a woman in bed—or vice versa rather than trying to explain, with empty words at a kitchen table, things that truly need to be experienced or witnessed firsthand? Indeed, it is. We bore witness to both tender and more vigorous physical unions. This is where the desire I felt toward women my mother, above all began to stir within me. I would get an erection, and I no longer felt any shame. Even so, we still couldn’t have sex with our mother, nor did we know what other relationships our parents might have had outside the home. Once, when I happened to be passing by the wooden shed, I found my grandfather fucking my mother inside. I didn’t know what to say or how to react, so I just walked away. My grandmother told me that this was a private matter between her husband and my mother.
When we stayed at my grandparents’, I would share a room with my mother at night. She would simply toss off her nightgown and head into the other room where my grandfather slept. Not long after, while we were sitting outside on the porch swing, my grandfather let me in on the secret: he wanted me to satisfy my mother in the same way.
As for my father, I suspected he was having an affair with either his own mother or his sister. I saw him on several occasions fucking another one of my aunts on the very same bed where he used to have sex with my mother. I realized that in this family, you could have a sexual relationship with whomever you pleased.
The first time: I was a late bloomer. I had sex with my mother for the first time on my 16th birthday. But even before that, she had taught me how to kiss and showed me how a woman performs oral sex on a man. That particular night was sweeter than any cake or gift. I was inside the woman who had given me life, and now I was returning the favor. Lost in her large brown eyes and ample breasts, our bodies were perfectly in sync. My younger brother, unlike me, had already been with my mother by the age of 14 to the point where we actually had to tell him to try and find a girlfriend for a change. There were times when I fucked her alone for me, those were, above all, intimate moments but there were also situations where I did it together with Dad, and later, the three of us my younger brother and I would fuck Mom, as her sexual desire only grew stronger with age.
My aunts were just waiting for the right moment to pounce on us. During summer breaks, both of them put us through some “rigorous training.” Later, they had children of their own, having found men who accepted their lifestyle. My mother’s younger sister had a daughter and a son, who eventually joined our little world. My father’s older sister, however, had no children, even though she did get married.
Time passed, and we grew older. It was difficult to find a girlfriend let alone a wife since one tends to get a bit too comfortable in such circumstances. I met my current wife at my second job. I was working at a small restaurant where her uncle was the boss. During breaks, I noticed that the people in the upper levels were getting very intimate with one another. On one occasion, when we were closing up, it was perfectly clear what they were doing in the pantry. I was genuinely happy, as it meant we weren’t the only ones. Later, I got to know her entire family. Her father seemed very stern, but he was a man with a heart of gold. He knew full well that his daughter had chosen a good man not just because we shared a similar lifestyle, but because he recognized a devoted husband who would truly support his daughter.
Three years later, we got married and had a child. Our only daughter was born; we raised her with great care, watching closely to see when she would be ready to join us. I wanted to take her to bed for the first time when she was 14, but my wife insisted that I wait another two years. The very first moment I laid eyes on my daughter without any clothes on was perhaps the proudest moment of my life the fulfillment of a father, and the beginning of yet another generation of incest.
The lesson: You know what people think about folks like us. But let me ask you the most important questions. Did my mother make a mistake when she took me and my older brother to bed? I don’t think so. This was a far more valuable lesson than having a boring afternoon chat with one’s parents about the mechanics of sex. Does it really matter whether you’re fucking your mother, your aunt, or your daughter? In the end, it’s all the same. Once again, I’d like to apologize to anyone who was expecting an erotic story. My only advice is: fuck every woman you can even within your own family!
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