Season 3 Episode 3: The Chicken and the Egg

Back in Dr. Carte's living room, Whitney wavers. "You feeling up to driving?" She says. "I think those screwdrivers mom fed us are starting to get to me."

"I'm all right," you say, "but I have to go and pick Cerise up. If you don't mind tagging along--"

"I gotcha. No. I'll sleep here, it's fine." She wanders over to the couch and settles down, curling up like a cat. "Have fun with your big sister, Ally."

You watch her for a few moments. "I might be a little over the legal ABV," you say. "Maybe I'll hang out a little longer."

The truth is you're not sure Cerise wants you to interrupt her time with Galatea. It feels weird, being the third wheel. You don't like it.

You go over to the couch and force Whitney to scoot. You lie down as well, and she wraps herself around you. Chest to chest, she gazes at you. The look you share is long and tender and loving.

After four or five minutes, she breaks the silence. "You're kinda ugly."

"What the fuck."

"In a cute way, though. It's weird. You're cute-ugly. Fuckably cute-ugly, even."

"You give the worst compliments ever. No joke."

"Heeeh." She grins and wheezes, but then her face goes serious: "Ally, can I ask you something without you thinking I'm weird?"

"Too late. I already know you're weird."

"Fuck you."

"Go ahead and ask me."

"Well -- maybe you're the exact wrong person to ask about this. I mean, you're the kind of guy who fucks his own cousin--"

"Once re--"

"Yeah, once removed, fuck. Jesus. Once you remove your dick from her pussy maybe that'll start mattering again. She's your COUSIN--"

"Fine. What's your point? If I'm not mistaken, you've been taking part in that too, and you've never complained..."

She chews her lip.

"Is it... kinda fucked up if I think my mom is hot?"

You quirk an eyebrow.

She buries her face in your chest. "Oh god. It is fucked up, isn't it."

You try to soothe her. "Well... she is hot... so..."

Whitney, face still concealed, slugs your shoulder.

"Close blood relatives who meet later in life are often attracted to each other," you say. "It's a well-documented phenomenon. There's been a lot of research showing that if you don't form familial bonds with someone in childhood, then--"

"Of course you know about this shit. Been doing a lot of research on why it's not fucked up?"

You wrap your arms around her. "Stop worrying about it. Even if you're a pervert, that's fun too."

Whitney finally meets your eyes again and smiles. Then she leans in for a kiss that lingers. Her warm mouth still tastes like orange juice and her tongue is eager against yours, invasive. She likes to make her kisses extra wet, as if she's giving you every single part of her. You respond in kind. Your saliva mingles and mixes and she moans into you with sheer enjoyment. You can feel the resonance of it, in and against your chest. She writhes in your grip, as if unable to stop herself, and you already begin to smell the growing need between her legs. Whitney's list of fetishes and turn-ons is almost as long as yours, or maybe even longer, but nothing gets her going quite like making out with you. Kissing is all the foreplay she ever needs.

She pulls away, leaving a bridge of drool dangling between your lips, and says in a husky voice: "I really need to fuck you. I need your cock in me."

"That's good," you say, leering at her. "Because I really need to blow my load in you..."

She grins mischievously as she slides down the length of your body, rising back onto her knees so she can undo your button, zip down your fly and tug at your pants. You help her by shaking your hips a little. Your boxers quickly follow, and you pull your shirt off too. It feels wrong to be doing this in Dr. Carte's living room, to be lying naked, and hard, on her couch while she dozes just feet away in her bedroom. But how wrong and forbidden it feels is also exactly what makes it feel so good. Whitney seems to enjoy the idea too, and gets naked as fast as you.

She settles back atop you, her bare tits soft on your chest. She might be small-breasted but it still feels just wonderful being skin-to-skin like this, her nipples firm and the meat of her tits nice and squishy, and so, so warm. She reaches down between you, grabs your cock with her hand, and in a practiced motion she helps you find your way home. No matter how many times you do it, she's told you, this is her favorite part: that instant when the fat spongy head of your prick pops through the entrance of her pussy and spreads her open. She sighs through a drooping jaw, her eyes rolling back in her skull, as she relishes the sensation once again.

And then she's back to kissing you, her hands gripping either side of your face, as you hump against her in a reverse missionary. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me" is all she can coherently say between wanton, smacking, tongue-waggling kisses. With your dick sawing in and out of her at this angle, it keeps forcing her little pearl of a clit against your pelvic bone. The pleasure of it soon has her juicing all over you, her sweet wetness flowing between your legs.

It's not long before she's so overcome that she cannot even manage kissing you, and just has to nuzzle your neck, and hold on tight, while you fuck her stupid. You grab the back of her head with both hands and use it as leverage to rut deeply into her body. In a distant part of your mind you imagine that you've fucked her so many times in so many different ways that it's really true her pussy has conformed to the shape of your dick, has become the perfect mold of an onahole for your exclusive use. The way her soft, sucking insides wrap around you is too perfect to think any differently.

Some sixth sense, a subconscious cue that you're not aware of until it's already happening, makes you turn your face and glance across the living room. Dr. Carte is there. She's peeking from the cracked door of her bedroom, watching you mate with her daughter, and though the lighting is dim, you can tall there's motion down lower. You know in an instant that she's masturbating. She's playing with herself while she watches you fuck Whitney.

She sees that you see her. Her eyes go wide and she shuts the door, quickly, quietly. You keep fucking Whitney and you're so lost in the moment that any trace of inhibition is gone. You brush your cheek against the side of her head and breathe into her ear, "we had an audience just now."

"Wh-what?" Whitney moans, too dazed by getting railed to comprehend human speech.

"Your mom was watching us."

"--For real?" This gets Whitney's attention, though neither of you break the pace of your fucking. You're both too horny and getting off too hard to stop. But now she's looking at the now closed bedroom door.

"For real..." you say. "She was standing in the doorway... playing with herself..."

Whitney's cunt tightens around your prick. A little gasp escapes her lips. She liked hearing that.

"Should I...?" You prompt.

She nods enthusiastically.

You call: "Dr. Carte... Whitney says you can come out. It's okay."

You fuck Whitney a little harder, your balls slapping against her soft butt, so there can be no mistaking on the other side of that door that the two of you are still having sex as you say this.

There is no response, and you worry, although not too much in the throes of pleasure, that you've made things awkward with Dr. Carte. You'll deal with that later though, after you get your cum up Whitney's womb where it belongs.

But then there is a response. The door cracks open again, and you meet Dr. Carte's uncertain eyes with a smirk. Tapping Whitney on the back, you get her to glance over as well. Her face lights up when she sees that Dr. Carte is watching.

"I hope you don't mind..." Whitney says, punctuating her words with forceful humping, sliding all the way up and all the way down your shaft each time, so that your cock glistens in the light from the ceiling fan before repeatedly disappearing back inside her. "I just reee~ally needed to get Ally's prick up me... so we used your couch... is that okay, mom?"

Dr. Carte's mouth is hanging slack and you can hear her labored breathing.

"We don't mind it if you watch us," you add, "if you like what you see..."

She closes the door again.

"Ugh... she must be a prude," Whitney says. "Oh well... cum inside me, Ally..."

You fuck her now with a determined, even pace, getting close to that delirious release. But then, unbelievably, there she is again, Dr. Carte, standing at the entrance to her bedroom, the door swinging fully open. The devil on her left shoulder must have finally beaten the angel on her right into submission. Whatever dithering she went through in the past few minutes is over, and now she's committing to this.

"Hey mom~" says Whitney.

She's naked. And her body could not be any more of a contrast to Whitney's. Taller, paler -- less toned, but fuller -- huge, swaying tits, with fat areola, and a tummy that isn't round but definitely looks squeezable. Thick thighs, the insides of them running with her wetness, and then the part of her that most resembles her daughter after all: a pretty, dark pink little pussy. She keeps it well-groomed, just a small strip of hair over the top.

Her fingers are to her lips and her eyes are glued to the scene before her.

"You can get closer," you say. "It's fine. Really."

She does, her entire body shaking, her steps halting and unsure. But she makes it across the room. She takes a seat, her naked butt on the surface of her coffee table, close enough that you can touch her. Her legs are tightly pinched together, one hand pinned between her fleshy thighs, as if trying to stop herself by force from masturbating.

"So?" Whitney says. "You're watching... does that mean you like what you see?"

"I'm -- I'm sorry," is what Dr. Carte finally gets out, still transfixed.

"Don't be... I like what I see, too."

Dr. Carte almost recoils she's so surprised, and meets Whitney's gaze. "You..."

"You're hot," Whitney says. "And you've got a pretty pussy..."

When it comes to these matters, you and Whitney are usually in agreement.

"Can I see it again?" Whitney asks.

Lips quavering, breath uneven and heavy, Dr. Carte spreads her leaden legs one at a time. The motion draws her forward so only her tailbone is resting on the edge of the table. The last obstruction left is her hand. As she slowly draws it away, she leaves herself exposed completely to her own daughter. She rests her hands on her knees to steady herself and lets Whitney gawk. Whitney, practically drooling, stares at it unashamedly.

"I'm gonna cum," you warn Whitney.

Whitney slides up and off of you. Cool air rushes over your cock and you grimace in pained frustration as your balls tighten up, aching to get you back to the place they want to spew their cum in.

Languidly rising to her feet, Whitney takes Dr. Carte's hand. "You've got a thing for Ally. I know you do. Like mother like daughter, right? Right..."

"Whitney, is this... okay...?" Dr. Carte asks, still overwhelmed by it all.

"If you wanna fuck him, you definitely can. I wanna see you... we can share..."

She gets Dr. Carte to settle on the floor in front of the couch, so that she's at eye level with your straining dick, so she can see up close and personal the angry red shaft and the fat droplet of precum oozing from the tip. She gulps. "I haven't been with a man since... oh my... it's so..."

Whitney is cupping her mother's ass now, taking liberties with impunity, her chin on her shoulder, leering. "It'll fit. If it fit inside me, it'll fit inside you, too..."

"Touch it," you say, half commanding, half begging. Dr. Carte reaches for it, and wraps her dainty fingers around it. Her soft hand is warm and she holds you loosely.

"You want it, you know you do..." Whitney whispers, becoming the new devil on her shoulder now. "Once he cums inside you, you'll never look back... it's nice and hot and gooey, and he always cums a whole lot... you'll love it..."

Dr. Carte is a leaf in the wind, utterly bewildered by this lewd tirade, and yet as Whitney goes on, Dr. Carte slowly begins to jerk you off. Whitney is right. She wants it.

"Are you okay -- to have sex with someone like me --" Dr. Carte asks you.

You pull on her arm and get her upright, then tug her down, onto the couch, on top of you. "More than okay," you say.

She gets on her haunches and straddles your waist. Whitney, ever helpful, holds your cock for you, and Dr. Carte, focused intently on it, lowers herself.

Like mother like daughter indeed. Dr. Carte's reaction to getting your dick in her is exactly like Whitney's. The drooping jaw, the sigh, the rolling eyes. But more intense than Whitney's: this is a woman who hasn't been properly fucked in a very, very long time, and the satisfied sigh she makes is more like a pained whine, a noise that belies the deep need that has gone so unfulfilled for so long.

Whitney circles around now, gets up onto the couch herself, and straddles your face.

"Eat me out," she begs you.

You're a conscientious boyfriend and you do as Whitney says. You latch your lips onto Whitney's pussy and let her wetness drip straight into your mouth. The tangy fragrance and taste of it sticks to the back of your tongue as you swirl it around. It makes you salivate, a natural reaction that drives Whitney's pleasure ever higher. Little gasps and whinnies come out at irregular intervals as you alternate between flicking her hard clit with your tongue and seeing how deep you can get it up her pussy.

Dr. Carte's motions on the other side of you are impassioned but inexpert and she drives up and down at awkward angles that leave you longing. Then you become aware of a shifting weight, the center of balance moving forward. You realize that, above you, Whitney has linked hands with her mother -- to guide and support her.

"Like this," comes Whitney's voice, your hearing muffled by the weight of her ass sitting on your face.

"It's -- so deep --" Dr. Carte moans. "So... thick..."

"I know... it's great..."

With Whitney assisting, Dr. Carte can get you all the way inside, your heavy nuts resting against her ass on the instroke. She gyrates her hips each time you're full inside, before drawing you out again and coming back down. Over and over she uses your cock to bring herself off.

"This is wrong-- this is wrong--" Dr. Carte says, panting, in a voice that indicates she doesn't care, even if she knows she should.

"Just shut up and have fun~" Whitney coos.

All their conversation, all their moans and squeaks suddenly die off. You understand, though you cannot see for yourself, that Whitney is kissing Dr. Carte, has shoved her tongue inside her mother's mouth. And now you can hear the muffled smacking, the slurping, the gasping.

Dr. Carte's hips buck hard now, and you pass the point of no return too. You fuck back against her just as hard and frenzied. Whitney's cum erupts like a geyser all over you, spraying your face, and down to the back of your throat, as you do just the same to Dr. Carte's hot cunt -- as you unleash spurt after searing spurt of cum directly inside her. Dr. Carte is just as fun to cum in as her daughter is, has insides that are just as welcoming and silkily textured, a perfect place to deposit your seed. You didn't think you had a thing for older women, but you'll make an exception. You let go of all other thoughts in your mind, except the blinding need to inseminate your girlfriend's mom as much, and as deeply, as you can. You ejaculate into her, fully, until every last drop oozes from your piss slit to her womb.