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hot story: THE HOME OF INCEST

Awesome Incest Story

This is the true picture of Indian summer I thought to myself as I drove along listening to the hum of the tires on the road. The trees were all decked out in their autumn finery of yellows, golds, reds, and just about every other earthy color you could think of. And yet, the air blowing in through my open window was warm and balmy.

I was on my way home to visit my mother and sister for Thanksgiving. It should have been at least twenty degrees colder than the eighty it was outside. But I wasn't complaining, winter would be showing its icy face all too soon.

My mom, Maureen and my sister, Cassy lived alone since I had departed for college a year ago. My mom had found out that my dad had been cheating on her with his secretary about three years ago and sent him packing. It had been a messy divorce and Cassy and I had sided with mom so we very rarely ever saw dad or had anything to do with him.
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"Ronny . . . long time no see," she smiled, stepping up to me. Then before I knew what was happening, she grabbed my head between her hands, pulled me to her and planted a big, wet kiss right on my lips. I was stunned by the ardor and fervor of the kiss, but I just figured that it was Cassy's way of showing me how much she'd missed me. Later I would change my mind about that. "Welcome home . . ." she giggled when our lips finally did part. "Uh, hi, Sis," I mumbled when she let me go of my head and stepped back so I could catch my breath and step into the house. I couldn't believe the little, black dress she was wearing. The dress had a diving neckline that swept down and revealed the "Y" of her cleavage and a good portion of smooth, pink tit-flesh. This wasn't the same Cassy I had left behind when I headed off for college. I had left a girl and had come back to find a woman. "We've been waiting for you," she laughed seeing that I had been eyeing her breasts as she pushed the door shut behind me. "I've been looking forward seeing y'all too," I grinned. "Come on, mom's out in the kitchen fixing dinner," she said, turning and heading for the kitchen door. "It smells great," I said as the mouth-watering fragrance of cooking turkey filled the house. "Doesn't it," she laughed as we stepped into the kitchen.

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"Ronny, welcome home," my mom chirped as she stood at the kitchen sink with her arms elbow deep down in soapy water. "Give me a rain-check on a hug. I'll give it to you as soon as I get through with the dishes." "Uh, sure, Mom," I grinned setting the two bottles of wine on the table and stepping over to where she stood washing pots and pans. Wrapping my arm around her tiny waist, I pulled her against me and gave her a peck on the cheek. Now I don't think of myself as a perv or anything, but it had been quite a while since I'd had my ashes hauled and it sure felt good to have a nice, warm body pressed against mine. "It's good to have you back home, Ronny," I heard my mother murmur as she pressed her hip against mine a little harder. Now I was beginning to wonder what was going on. Was it the overactive imagination of a horny, oversexed twenty-one year old or were my mom and sister acting overly affectionate toward me. Well, it had been over six months since I'd been back home. Maybe they were just glad to see me.

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"Why don't you go watch football while Cassy and I finish up dinner," mom told me as I stepped away from her. "Sure there's nothing I can do out here?" I asked her, a little reluctant to leave the warm coziness of the kitchen. "Go . . ." she smiled. "All right, if you're sure," I grinned stepping back toward the living room. "I'm sure," she said turning her attention back to the pots and pans in the sink. Turning the game on, I saw that although it was in the third quarter it was already over as Dallas led the Giants by a score of 35-7. "Ronny, would you like a glass of wine?" I heard Cassy ask from the kitchen door as she stood looking at me with a smile on her lips and a glass of wine in her hand. "Sure," I grinned watching her as she slowly stepped across the room toward me. I had guessed that she wasn't wearing a bra when I first saw her, but now the way her big breasts were floundering around inside the slinky black dress, there was no doubt. She definitely wasn't wearing a brassiere.

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