On The Night

Note : This story is completely fictional!

“I have this fantasy,” Jim confided in the silky-sounding female voice. “I imagine having sex with my Aunt Lisa. She’s so cute.”
There was a horrified pause.
He laughed; he still wasn’t telling the exact truth.
“We’re not allowed to talk about incest on this line,” the phone voice said haughtily.
Jim’s cock wilted in his hand. He was no longer talking to someone who would fuel his desires, who would bring him to boiling point. He was talking to a prudish and disapproving school-teacher. He wasn’t interested in the illusion anymore. He hung up.
“What the fuck am I going to do?” he asked the dead receiver. He was going to stay with his Aunt Lisa for a weekend. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Jim knew his mother would be in soon from her night out with the girls. He didn’t want to see her. She had been to a Twin Peaks convention. Jim had been watching that TV show since the re-runs had started and all he knew about Twin Peaks was that there was no point in trying to understand it. 
His mother and Lisa were twins. Identical.
Jim went into his bedroom. He left the door ajar. He kicked the covers from the bed. When he heard his mother’s key in the front door, he began to masturbate.

Lynne watched him from the dark hallway. She watched this naked nineteen year old boy. An intense thrill travelled through her flesh as he shuffled his erect cock. She lusted after his muscular form. She hung back, wrapping her aching body in the anonymity of shadow. She cupped her heaving breasts. She liberated them from the black satin of her dress. Music assaulted her mind. A Dire Straits riff from about four minutes into Private Investigations. She fingered her nipples. She felt criminal shame and paused for a moment.
He wanked harder. He grunted.
Oh God. The shame she felt made her juices sluice between her legs, made her nipples fatten and grow, made her wild with desire. 
After she was satisfied - her hand pressed against the doorframe, her undressed body bucking in the warm summer night air - she went to bed.

Jim came at about the same time as his mother. He was both disappointed and roused by her. Those brilliant blue eyes gave her away. They had shone out of the darkness, wide open, like sapphires lent ice by the moon. It was an odd game to play. He got up from his bed and padded across the hallway.
She had left her door open.
He didn’t pretend. It was a challenge to her.
He stood naked inside her room. At the foot of her bed. Once she knew he was there, her eyes were closed. The electric blue coursed within her.
So did her burrrrring silver vibrator. 
It thrummed. He mimicked its deft moves. 
It delved. He pushed his throbbing groin forwards.
It jerked. He… jerked.
One of these days, he thought. I’m gonna cum all over you. All over your hot tits; all over your pretty lips. He fled from the room.
But not today.

He came on his pillow, emptying his white seed onto the softest most forgiving thing he could find. She came with her sleek rocket-ship shoved deep within her, longing to be able to breast-feed her son again.

Jim went to stay at his Aunt’s. 
He fucked her. As he always did, always had.
The two of them had collapsed on the sofa, entangled in a feverish fighting ball of arms and legs. And what legs!
She was wearing red silk. She was Miss Scarlet from the sexy version of Cluedo he always wished Parker Brothers would make. (The winner gets to fuck her. The loser spends the night with Mrs White, the overweight saggy-breasted cook.) The blood-red lingerie she wore let her legs do the talking. They wrapped around him and he was caught in the spider’s embrace.
Who are you kidding?
This was no simple seduction of a boy by an older woman. There was no Anne Bancroft vibe. 
He had met Lisa in a club. She was thirty eight. They had fucked. He had fitted into her (literally); she had fitted into him (not so). He had fallen in love with her, as she had with him. He had told her he was adopted; that he was looking for his real mother. She had told him she worked in the public records office; that she could help.
Within six months she introduced him to his mother; her sister. Her twin.
They should have stopped.
They talked about it. They really talked about it. Every night they talked about it, he ended up in her arms. She ended up all over him. He ended up all over her.
Inside had ceased to be an option.

On The Night by Dire Straits. As advertised on TV. 

They played that album incessantly. He bought it for Lisa after their second date: he wanted her to listen to the Romeo and Juliet track. They made love with it (in the background) all the time after that.
When things changed, when they realised they were blood and still couldn’t stop, they actually listened to that album. Mostly to Heavy Fuel. Then they fucked to it. Wanton, furious fucking. They spat at one another and bit hard.
Later, Lisa bought it for her sister.

Lynne had found out somehow. Of that, Jim was sure. Through friends probably. But she didn’t say anything. It hadn’t been an easy start.
Neither of them knew how to rekindle a mother and son relationship. You don’t get too many opportunities to practice with that one. So the first time they had met, it had felt… a lot like a date.
There had been wine, over dinner.
The sommelier had asked Jim to taste it. Like he knew. “Very good,” he said, not knowing if it was corked. Extremely nervous: jangling like Mr. T.
She had emerged through the restaurant doors (of course, he already knew who to look for) like a film star at a Leicester Square premiere. She trod the floorboards in her stiletto heels like she was sashaying along a crowd-thronged red carpet. She wiggled as she walked. 
There had been more wine over a long talk at her flat. It seemed they had a mutual interest. She liked to look good. He liked her to look good too
So it was a date then.
It was unbearable. 
His mother was her sister in sluttier clothing. And he was already in love with that other version of her.

Lisa had become jealous. 
How do you deal with that?
“Let me get this straight,” Jim had challenged her. “You feel envious because you’re my secret girlfriend but you think I’m spending too much time with my mother who just happens to also be your twin sister. What exactly do you expect me to do with that information?”
“Fuck you!” Lisa yelled. “Why don’t you just fuck her?”
And in Jim’s head all that was playing was Brothers In Arms. 
Explain that.
“I might,” he said.

He had avoided Lisa but things had fallen apart again and he had fallen deep into her. Then they had argued. Once more, he had threatened her with abandonment for another who meant more.
She was beside herself.
“My most absurd fantasy,” he confided, “is to fuck you both.”

Lisa engineered it. She told Lynne about how she had met Jim. Lynne was distraught. Horrified! 
“You were shagging my son? Your nephew?”
“I didn’t know!”
Forgiveness followed but seeds were sown. Or rather, the seeds that had no chance to grow were fertilised, nurtured, encouraged. Until Lynne’s dormant desire for her son matched his desire for her.
Lisa got them both drunk at her place.

Jim stood in her room. He was masturbating as she moved her vibrator in and out of her pussy. When he came, he aimed. Carefully. 
She licked at the fluid on her lips. Opened her baby blue eyes.
He followed that shocked taste up with a kiss. A brief one. A brief sudden one.
He stuck his solid long cock down his mother’s throat.
She gagged.
She grunted.
She sucked in a reflex astonished oh my god reaction. 
She softened; started enjoying it.
He whispered in her ear. “Mother!”
She whispered back. “Call me Lynne… you mother fucker!”
He realised he could have done this a long time ago.
Lisa emerged from the shadow. Lay across them both. “Don’t fret, Lynne. It’ll be like the old days,” she said. “When Dad used to fuck us both.”
The three of them fell into a hot drunken frenzy. 

They never emerged. There is a particular club in North London… I hesitate to tell you this. There is a particular club in North London where you can encounter this incredible threesome. If you play your cards right, like I did… just a man who happened to pass by.
You can join in.