Coming Home Early (mg, F-solo, mFg, inc, ped, voy, oral, panties, 
cum-play, un-safe, preg?)

by this guy (thisguy.1066@gmail.com)

Summary: A single mother gets home early from work to make a 
shocking discovery: her kids are having a sexual relationship 
with each other…



Mondays usually suck, but this one was particularly crappy.  First 
my alarm clock didn’t go off, then I dropped the car key and it 
bounced under the car…  The manager at work was in a particularly 
foul mood because the refrigerator in the little kitchen at the 
office had died over the weekend; turning the bag of smoked Chubb 
he had brought in last Friday into the worst smell in the history 
of the entire world…  

When the police came in and told us we had to evacuate because of 
a gas leak around the corner I was starting to think the day might 
be finally be improving.  That hope was quickly shattered by the 
absolute nightmare of everyone in a four block area all trying to 
leave at the exact same time, with a street was closed…  Although, 
I was ahead of rush hour traffic coming home: maybe things were 
looking up after all.

The clock in the car said 3:50 when I turned into the driveway at 
home.  I managed to get out of, and lock, the car without incident; 
then headed to the front door.  Turning the knob I found it was 
locked.  The kids had actually remembered to lock the door when 
they had gotten home from school: I almost didn’t believe it.  I 
could only smile at the thought that the day really was getting 
better.

After unlocking the door and stepping inside I was truly amazed: 
it was quiet.  For once Ben and Lisa weren’t fighting!  Sadly 
they spend most of their free time at home fighting over the 
television remote control…  Walking into the kitchen I started 
wondering where my kids were.  Since their backpacks were on the 
kitchen table they had clearly come home; but the kids themselves 
were nowhere to be found.  

I probably would have put a little more energy into locating my 
children, but I was thirsty and still aggravated from having had 
such a crappy day.  Having been thirsty when the police evacuated 
the office (and not being able to get anything to drink for all 
that time), I simply poured myself a glass of juice and sat down 
at the kitchen table: enjoying the cold beverage and some much 
needed peace and quiet.  

Once I had sat down I noticed that it felt like the house was 
shaking.  “Well it is windy today, and the wind is coming from a 
different direction than usual…” I silently reasoned, “…that must 
be it.”  

Perhaps two minutes after later I thought I heard a voice say, 
“Where do you want me to sh…”  The voice was very quiet and 
muffled; but, nonetheless, I was almost certain it was my 
eleven-year-old son’s voice…

After a few seconds of silence I heard more, “…in my…”  Again 
the voice was quiet and muffled, this time it sounded like my 
seven-year-old daughter.  

“You sure?” Ben’s voice again: this time somewhat clearer and a 
bit louder.

“Unh huh,” Lisa’s voice again: still muffled but a little louder.  
A part of me couldn’t help but wonder what the kids were talking 
about; I was tempted to go see what they were up to.  But they 
weren’t fighting, and they were being vastly more quiet than 
usual…  So I just sat there; reveling in the notion that this 
crappy day really was improving: what a delicious thought.  

A few seconds later I heard what sounded like a slap.  Knowing 
that if Ben had hit Lisa, she would have screamed; and if Lisa 
had hit Ben…well, he’d hit her back and then she’d scream.   
I sat there listening: a somewhat deep muffled groan, but no 
scream.  I must have sat there listening for a full minute 
without hearing anything.  

Lisa’s muffled words, “…so creamy and warm in…” broke the 
silence; and made me so curious what my two children were doing 
that I decided I would go see what they were up to.  

I got up and headed upstairs.  The door to Ben’s bedroom was 
open.  I glanced in: the room was empty; the kids weren’t in 
there…  As I took the first step down the hallway towards my 
daughter’s bedroom, Ben stepped out of her room with a smile on 
his face…  The instant he saw me his face went from slightly 
flushed to white as a sheet.   I was too puzzled to say 
anything…  As the color returned to my eleven-year-old son’s 
face I noticed that his lips were moving.  It looked like he 
was saying “Hi Mom,” but no sound came from his mouth.  That 
was certainly odd, but I continued down the hallway towards 
Lisa’s bedroom.

Standing barely a foot from Ben, I happened to glance into my 
daughter’s bedroom through the open door: out of the corner of 
my eye I thought I saw her pulling a pair of panties up her legs 
and over her butt…  But that couldn’t have been right: I mean 
why would she be pulling up a pair of panties mere seconds after 
her older brother stepped out of her bedroom?...

I blinked my eyes.  Looking directly into Lisa’s bedroom, I saw 
nothing out of the ordinary.  The seven year old girl was walking 
away from her bed, towards the door; as usual she was barefoot, 
and wearing one of the long dress-like t-shorts she so loves.  
“Hi Mommy,” she said through an ear-to-ear smile; her voice, 
though, sounded slightly nervous…

“What have you been up to since you got home?” I asked: my 
question not really directed at either one of my children.

“I ah…well, Lisa…” Ben began stammering. 

“Uhm, so…ah…” Lisa was tripping over her words.

Ben took a breath before definitively saying, “There was a spider 
on Lisa’s pillow and…” he trailed off.

“Uh, yeah.  It scared me so Ben killed it,” Lisa finished her 
brother’s statement.  

Mostly accepting the explanation I’d just heard; I offered, “I 
guess I better wash your pillow case then.”

“No you don’t need to,” Lisa quickly said as I took a step into 
her bedroom.

“Have to: we can’t have you sleeping on a squashed spider,” I 
commented, a bit un-nerved by the idea myself.

“Ah…no, no Mom.  I knocked the spider off the pillow before I 
squashed it,” Ben explained, speaking much faster than normal; 
while at the same time making a brushing motion with his right 
hand.  

I would have simply accepted that explanation, except for the 
fact that the direction Ben had moved his hand in, would have 
resulted in the spider ending up on the sheets…  “No, I better 
wash all the bed clothes,” I said, “If there was a spider on 
the pillow there might be other bugs in the sheets,” before 
stepping next to the bed.

I hadn’t even laid my hand on the pillow when I saw a grimace 
appear on my daughter’s seven-year-old face and a shudder ripple 
through her young body.  She was clearly much more un-nerved by 
the idea of sleeping in a bed that had bugs in its sheets than 
I was.  

Unceremoniously, I pulled the pink pillow case off the pillow 
and tossed it on the floor; yanked off the pink top sheet and 
tossed it on the floor with the pillow case.  Then, I began 
pulling the pink fitted sheet off the mattress.  Out of the 
corner of my eye, I noticed something lime-green sticking out 
from between the box-spring and the mattress.  

“What’s this?” I pondered aloud, before grabbing the lime-green 
piece of fabric and pulling.   With surprising ease, a small 
piece of lime-green fabric slipped out from between the 
box-spring and the mattress.  Moving it around in my hands, it 
took me a few seconds to realize that it was a pair of my 
daughter’s panties.  

Well, that explained why the lime-green pair of her panties 
seemed to have vanished; but why were they under her mattress?  
Looking at them a bit more closely; I noticed that the inside of 
the crotch area had a pale yellowish stain which was a bit stiff 
and sort of crusty…almost like the glazing on a two week old 
donut…  

I was about to say something, what I’m not sure; when I noticed 
a little yellow stripe between the box-spring and the mattress, 
a few inches further down the length of the bed.  Slipping my 
fingers under the mattress, I ended up pulling out the pastel 
yellow pair of Lisa’s panties, which had also seemed to have 
vanished…  

“Hmm,” I pondered aloud, before lifting up the mattress.  There 
were two more pairs of Lisa’s panties under there; both of them 
had similar stiff, crusty, yellowish stains on the inside of 
the crotch area.

I was about to ask my daughter why there were four pairs of her 
obviously dirty panties under her mattress.  Suddenly it dawned 
on me that SEVEN pairs of her panties had seemed to have gone 
missing…where were the other three pairs?  The first pair had 
disappeared two months ago: her Babette Princesses panties, 
which weren’t under the mattress.

“Lisa, why are there four pairs of your dirty panties under your 
mattress?” I asked, turning towards her.  Lisa looked really 
uncomfortable and Ben appeared to be trying to suppress some sort 
of emotional response to my question.  “Ben, go to your room and 
close the door behind you.” I ordered.  The eleven year-old-boy 
did as I had told him: stepping out of the room and closing the 
door.  I waited a second before asking, “Lisa, why are there four 
pairs of your dirty panties under your mattress?” again.

“Ah…” my seven year old daughter tried to speak: sounding 
extremely embarrassed.

“It’s okay; you can tell me.  No need to be embarrassed,” I did 
my best to reassure her.

“You won’t get mad?” she asked.

“Only if you don’t tell me the truth,” I gave her my usual 
half-threat.

“Really?” Lisa asked.  

I gave her a stern look.   

“Oh, okay,” she spoke softly, “I hid them there ‘cause, I thought 
you’d be mad that I made a mess in them.”

“Oh…Lisa, we all have accidents now and then,” I tried to comfort 
her, “We’ll just wash them: no big deal.”

“Really, Mommy?” she asked in a decidedly upbeat tone.

“Yeah,” I replied.  I took a breath before commenting, “Haven’t 
seen your Babette Princesses panties in the laundry in a while.”

“Unh-huh,” Lisa seemed a bit confused.

“If you had an accident in them, we can wash them now, too,” I 
offered.

“No,” she said.

“’No?’  No, what?” now I was confused.

“No: I didn’t make a mess in them, Ben did,” Lisa explained.

I was getting more confused by the second.  “Well…  Ah, why did 
Ben?... Where are…” I attempted to ask a question.

“They’re in Ben’s room.  So are my aquarium panties:” (light 
blue with cartoon fishes on them), “he made a mess in them too,” 
Lisa explained further.  

“Oh,” I responded, “Wha…well how…why would Ben…” I was so 
confused I couldn’t form a coherent question.

“He says they’re softer…” Lisa offered an explanation which 
made absolutely no sense to me AND didn’t seem to make sense to 
her.

“Right,” I mindlessly said, while wondering how, or perhaps more 
appropriately why, an eleven year old boy would be wearing a 
seven year old girl’s panties.  Thinking for a second a logical 
thought hit me: he wasn’t wearing them; he was using them to soak 
up the urine when he accidently wet his pants…yeah, that made 
sense.  I have to admit that I was a bit surprised, not to mention 
somewhat disappointed, that both of my kids were wetting 
themselves; but at least we’d just solved a household mystery.

“Well, let’s go get those pairs and put them in the laundry too,” 
I said opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

“So you’re not mad Mommy?” Lisa asked as she followed me into the 
hallway.

“No honey,” I replied as we headed to Ben’s bedroom, “In the grand 
scheme of things, peeing your pants isn’t that big a deal.”  

I thought I heard Lisa say, “Huh?” behind me.   

Opening the door of my eleven year old son’s bedroom, I was 
surprised to see that the room was empty.  “Lisa, where’d Ben put 
the panties he’d used to soak up the urine when he wet his pants?” 
I asked, turning towards my seven year old daughter.

She got this strange, confused look on her face.  Then after a 
second of silence she said, “Neither of us peed our pants.”

Now I was really confused.  “Well, then…  How did…” I paused in 
thought for a second, before a truly revolting thought passed 
through my mind, “Lisa, you guys didn’t poop your pants? Did you?”

“No way,” Lisa said defensively in a tone so adamant that I knew 
she was telling the truth, “I’m not a baby.”

“Okay, okay; I believe you,” I replied before asking, “So then, 
how did you make a mess in them?”

“Ahh…” Lisa stammered, “Uhm, some creamy warm stuff…” she paused 
for a half a second before continuing to explain, “…dripped out 
of my…  Uhm, hole.”  There was an unexpected twinge of fear in 
her voice.

“Some creamy warm stuff dripped out of your hole?” I pondered 
aloud, “You’re hole?  Warm creamy stuff?  What are you talking 
about Lisa?” I asked; growing more confused as I was speaking.

“Like this Mommy,” she said, giving me a look that made it clear 
she couldn’t understand why I was confused.  She promptly pulled 
the bottom of the long t-shirt she was wearing up to just below 
her neck, fully revealing the seventh pair of panties that had 
gone missing and most of her flat belly.  She then tilted her 
head down (effectively holding the front of the shirt up with 
her chin) and pulled her panties down several inches.  

Looking into my seven year old daughter’s panties, I couldn’t 
believe what I was seeing.   There was a strand of pearlescent 
creamy looking whitish goo stretching down from Lisa’s decidedly 
puffy and slightly red little-girl pussy-lips to the crotch area 
of her panties, which was coated with a thin layer of similar 
creamy looking white goo…  

Suddenly it all made sense: “BEN, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!” I 
bellowed.

While waiting for Ben to return to his bedroom, a series of 
powerful emotions coursed through my body.  By the time he 
stepped through the door into his bedroom I wasn’t sure what I 
was feeling…

Before yelling at my eleven-year-old son I took a deep breath.  
I exhaled some of my anger and asked, in a mostly calm voice 
asked, “Ben, explain to me why your little sister thinks two 
pairs of her dirty panties are in your bedroom?  And while 
you’re at it explain to me why she says you made a mess in them…”

“Ah, uhm…” he began to stammer.

“Why don’t you start by getting them so we can wash them,” I 
all but ordered.

Ben slowly walked over to his closet, opened the door, bent down 
and reached into his winter boots from last year.  He pulled an 
object out of each one and returned to me.  “Here they are Mom,” 
he said with quite a bit of shame in his voice.

Taking the two pairs of my daughter’s panties from my son, I was 
shocked by the fact that the fabric was decidedly stiff; nearly 
the entirety of both pairs were covered in crusty, yellowish 
stains on both the inside and the outside.  

“Wow, how many times did you make a mess in them?” Lisa asked in 
an inquisitive tone when she saw them.

“So why were they in your bedroom?” I asked, “And how were you 
using them?”

“Ah…well…uhm…” Ben was stammering again, “I was…uhm…using them 
to…ah…catch the stuff that…uh…shoots out…of my wiener…uhm…when 
I rub it…”

“So you were shooting in them to not make a bigger mess,” I 
clarified his statement.  

“Yes, Mom,” Ben tentatively replied.

“Okay, fine,” I replied; more than slightly surprised that I 
wasn’t all that mad.  I took a breath and calmly asked, “Now 
explain to me why the stuff that shoots out of your wiener when 
you rub it is leaking out of the hole between your little 
sister’s legs?”

“Lisa kinda caught me rubbing my wiener a couple months ago…and, 
well…” he trailed off.

“Lisa,” I said turning to my daughter, “Is that true?”

“Yes Mommy,” my seven-year-old daughter answered.

After a few seconds of silence I said, “Okay…show me.”

“Show you what, Mommy?” Lisa asked.

I took a breath and further explained, “Show me what you did to 
cause Ben’s stuff to be leaking out of your hole.”  Now why the 
hell had I said that?

Lisa surprised me a bit when she simply yanked the panties she 
was wearing down and stepped out of them.  She then proceeded 
to hop up onto her brother’s bed and lay down of her back as she 
spread her legs.  

“What are you doing?” Ben quietly asked his little sister.

“Showing Mommy how your creamy warm stuff got in my hole,” Lisa 
replied to her eleven-year-old brother, looking at him like he 
was an idiot.

Ben just stood there until, a full minute after Lisa had laid on 
his bed before I said, “Ben, you ARE going to show me how it got 
into your sister’s hole.”

“Yes Mom,” Ben replied quietly in a down-trodden sounding voice; 
before removing his shorts and underpants.  He climbed onto his 
bed and laid down on top of his seven-year-old little sister.  

Lisa reached her left hand under her eleven-year-old brother’s 
body, shifted around a bit, and then said, “Okay, it’s in.”  

Suddenly Ben began hunching his hips.  His butt began moving 
up-and-down in a quick rhythmic motion…  

Seeing my eleven-year-old son fucking my seven-year-old daughter, 
his little sister, should have sent me flying into a rage.  But 
it didn’t, it turned me on: I could actually feel the insides of 
my panties beginning to get damp!  Wanting a better view of the 
action, I squatted down next to my son’s bed.  And my god did I 
get a better view, leaning my body forward slightly put my eyes 
little more than two inches above the top of the mattress: I was 
looking under my son’s left thigh and able to see his glistening 
wet four inch long eleven-year-old dick sliding in-and-out of my 
daughter’s visibly reddened seven-year-old slit.  It very well 
may have been the most erotic thing I had ever seen!  

I was so turned on by the pre-pubescent incestuous coupling I was 
staring at; that, without thinking about my own actions, I reached 
down and undid my own skirt.  An instant later I was shoving my 
right hand down the front of my, now sopping wet, panties and 
began vigorously rubbing my own engorged clit.  

I was beginning to feel the signs that my own impending orgasm 
was about to start.  

“I’m gonna shoot soon; where do you want me to do it?” Ben’s 
voice snapped me back to reality.  

“In my hole, like Mommy said,” Lisa replied.

“Alright…” Ben said with a grunt, “Here it comes…” he said as 
he shoved his hips forward and held them almost completely still 
while his entire body appeared to tense-up.

“It’s even warmer and creamier than usual,” Lisa commented.  

Ben’s body remained tensed-up while hips remained almost still 
in the shoved-forward position for a good fifteen seconds.  As 
his body seemed to relax, his breathing got noticeably heavier 
and he said, “Wow,” before rolling off Lisa.

“See Mommy?  That’s how Ben’s creamy warm stuff got in my hole,” 
Lisa matter-of-factly declared.

A fraction of a millisecond later I felt an electric shock 
emanating from my clit shoot out in all directions through my 
body.  Losing my balance, I slumped against the side of my 
son’s bed as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through my body.  

“Mom?  Mom, are you okay?” I could hear my son saying through 
my orgasm.  

“Unh…huh…” I managed to gasp a reply through my orgasm.  

About a minute passed before I heard my daughter ask, “What’s 
happening to Mommy?”  I could just barely make out Ben shrugging 
his shoulders in response to his little sister’s question.  

Orgasmic pleasure coursed through my body for another full 
minute before I gasped, “Oh…yea…”  I could feel that my clothing 
was slightly dampened by the thin sheen of sweat which had 
developed over the entirety of my body.  

“Mommy, are you okay?” Lisa asked in a decidedly concerned voice.

I blissfully exhaled the word “Yeah,” before taking a breath and 
added, “Better than anytime so far today…” 

“What just happened to you?” my son asked.

“I just had…” I began to reply before catching myself: I suddenly 
realized that the way I answered my eleven year old son’s 
question could affect everything that would happen in our house 
for years to come.  I used the second taking a breath took to 
pick, what I thought at the time, were the best words.  “Seeing 
the two of you not fighting, getting along, and working together 
towards a common goal made me happy…”

“But you were shaking, not smiling Mommy,” my seven year old 
daughter observantly commented.

“Yes…  Yes, I was.  See when a mommy is real happy…” I began to 
lie to my children.  Realizing that I was about to break a 
promise I had made to myself when I first found out I was 
pregnant with Ben, I took a deep breath and decided I had to  
change course.  I maneuvered myself up until I was sitting on 
the edge of my son’s bed.  “Right…  So, Ben; I was happy 
because you were trying to not make a mess when you shot the 
stuff out of your wiener.  And Lisa, I was happy you were 
helping your brother by letting him shoot in your hole.”  I 
took a breath, and continued, “And when a woman is really happy 
the enjoyment makes her whole body shake…”

“That sounds kinda like how I feel when I shoot the creamy warm 
stuff…” Ben commented.

“It’s the same kind of being really happy,” I heard myself say,
despite knowing I shouldn’t have.

“Really?!” Lisa beamed.

CRAP: I had to choose between telling my children the truth, 
or lying to them.  I thought for half a second before saying, 
“Yes, really.”  The instant I finished saying those words I 
was all but certain I had made the wrong choice…  But what’s 
done is done, and you can’t change the past: so I tried to put 
it out of my mind.

It was Ben who broke the silence about a minute later when he 
commented, “Lisa, if you don’t put your panties back on the 
stuff is gonna leak out of your hole…”

“Ouu…” a concerned grumble emanated from Lisa.  She began 
looking around, then asked, “Where are my panties?”  All three 
of us just sat there on my eleven year old son’s bed for a few 
seconds looking around and trying to remember what Lisa had 
done with her panties.  

Then I spied my seven year old daughter’s panties laying on 
the floor where she had stepped out of them.  “They’re on the 
floor,” I said, pointing at them.

Lisa began to move before thinking aloud, “If I get up, the 
creamy warm stuff will make a mess…” as she stopped dead in her 
tracks.

“I’ll get them,” I said and stood.  I took the couple steps it 
took me to reach where my seven year old daughter had dropped 
her panties and bent over to pick them up.

“Mom,” Ben spoke up.

“What?” I asked as I returned to a standing position; Lisa’s 
cum glazed panties in my right hand.

“There’s a wet spot on the back of your skirt…” Ben completed 
his comment.

I moved my left hand behind my legs and felt a damp spot on 
the back of skirt just below my butt.  

“You didn’t pee yourself, did you Mommy?” Lisa asked 
inquisitively.

“No,” I said.  I couldn’t help but smile a little bit at my 
seven year old daughter’s question: since it probably did look 
like I’d wet myself.  Figuring it would be best to explain, I 
said, “When a woman is really happy like that some liquid comes 
out of her hole…”

“Like how the creamy warm stuff comes out of my wiener?” Ben 
interrupted me by asking.

“Yes, a lot like that,” I replied, as I handed my daughter her 
panties.

“So…you made a mess in your panties too?” Lisa asked as she 
slid her bare feet through the leg holes in her panties.

“Something like that,” I answered.

“That’s never happened to Lisa,” Ben commented.

Glancing over at my son, I realized that he was still naked 
from the waist down, and his eleven year old dick was half hard.  
Seeing that; I could feel a bit more moisture building up inside 
my pussy.  “We can talk more about it after you finish your 
homework,” I told both my children, then added, “Ben, put some 
pants on.”  

Before either child could reply or ask a question, I turned 
around, grabbed the six of the pairs of panties they had made 
a mess in, and promptly walked out of my son’s bedroom.  I took 
the cum soaked panties to the laundry room and tossed them into 
the washing machine, put extra detergent in and ran the machine 
on the longest available cycle; then headed to my own bedroom 
to get changed.

By the time I had stepped into my bedroom, I could feel the 
liquid that had oozed its way out of me during the pussy melting 
orgasm I’d had while watching my children fucking begin to slowly 
run down the insides of my thighs.  I quickly kicked off my 
dress shoes, pulled off my blouse and skirt, and all but ripped 
my decidedly wet panties off.

I flopped onto the bed on my back, spread my legs, and began 
feverishly rubbing my still engorged clit with my right hand.  
As I pleasure myself I thought about the stiff crusty pale 
yellowish stains that were all over Lisa’s panties: I wondered 
how many loads of cum my eleven year old son must have had to 
shoot into them to have made them that way; I wondered how many 
times Ben had shot his cum into my seven year old daughter’s 
pussy, only to have it drool out of her pre-pubescent sex-hole 
into her panties…

Between those thoughts and the vigorous rubbing I was giving my 
clit, wave after wave of pleasure began coursing through my body.  

When I wondered if my children had enjoyed losing their 
virginities to their siblings, an electric shock emanating from 
my clit coursed out in all directions through my body.  An 
instant later I began to feel my pussy juices drooling out of 
my own sex-hole and begin to run down my butt crack…

Suddenly a thought hit me: considering how many cum stains were 
spread over how many pairs of Lisa’s panties, my daughter must 
have been having quite a bit of sex for quite some time…and she 
was only seven years old…  At that very instant full-fledged 
orgasmic pleasure began to course through my body for a second 
time in less than half an hour.  

By the time my orgasm stopped, some ten minutes after it began, 
I was physically exhausted…and yet I felt better than I had in years…  


Once I caught my breath and sat up in my bed it dawned on me that 
it had been over three years since there had been a cock inside 
my pussy.  For a few seconds I was jealous of my daughter…more 
precisely, I was jealous of all the sex she’d been having, while 
I hadn’t been getting any.

Swinging my lower legs over the side of the bed, I did my best 
to think rationally about what I had learned: my children were 
having sex with each other.  I stood, and began to walk to my 
closet; all the while thinking “my pre-pubescent pre-teenage 
children where in an incestuous relationship with each other”.  
It was something I should have been, at the very least deeply 
troubled by, if not down-right horrified by.  Grabbing a pair 
of sweatpants and a t-shirt; I found myself coming to the 
conclusion that “maybe it was a good thing Ben and Lisa were 
having sex with each other”: if they were doing it with each 
other, I wouldn’t have to worry about Ben getting in trouble 
by trying to ‘get with’ some girl…and I wouldn’t have to worry 
about Lisa getting into ‘an abusive relationship’ with some boy…

Frequently going without underwear at home, I simply put the 
sweatpants and t-shirt on before leaving my bedroom like I 
usually do in eh evening.  While heading back downstairs, I 
continued trying to think rationally about my children’s 
incestuous relationship.  “Lisa was only seven years old: so 
despite them having unprotected sex, there was no need to worry 
about her getting pregnant for a few years,” and “since I knew 
Lisa was sexually active, I would just put her on birth control 
when she turns ten”…  Yes, they were having unprotected sex, 
but “they’re young enough that it’s almost certain they’d never 
done anything with anyone other than each other, so there was 
no need to worry about diseases”, and “they are brother and 
sister, so despite their squabbling, as siblings they’d love 
each other enough to not cheat on one another”…  

By the time I reached the kitchen table, where both of my 
children were doing their homework, I had managed to fully and 
completely rationalize and accept that there was nothing wrong 
with their incestuous relationship…what they were wearing, on 
the other hand…  “Ben, why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” I asked.

“You said to put pants on, you didn’t say anything about a 
shirt,” he responded in a slightly defiant tone.

I silently glared at my eleven year old son for a minute before 
he stood and said, “I’m gonna go put a shirt on…” with that he 
headed for the stairs.  

“Should I put on different clothes too, Mommy?” Lisa asked.  

Since I never took issue with my seven year old daughter wearing 
a long t-shirt (like a dress) over her panties, I decided to 
maintain that previously established position; saying, “So long 
as you don’t go outside, you’re dressed okay.”

“Okay Mommy,” she replied before returning to her homework.

***

A while later; after both children had finished their homework 
and we’d eaten dinner, my seven year old daughter commented, 
“Mommy, when we were in Ben’s room, you said we’d talk about 
ow you made a mess in your panties…”

There was an awkward moment of silence while I was trying to 
figure out what my daughter was talking about.  Then it hit me: 
“You mean the wet spot on the back of Mommy’s panties after she 
watched Ben shoot in your hole?” I half asked.

“Unh-huh,” Lisa replied.

Turning to Ben, I said, “Turn off the TV.”  Once he did, I began 
speaking, “Okay, so when…” finding myself at a loss for words I 
ended up trailing off.  “Right…  So, watching how you were…” I 
trailed off again.

After a second of silence, Ben began to speak, “So, watching 
you let me use your hole to shoot in made Mom…” he too trailed 
off.

Hearing Ben say those words helped me straighten out my train of 
thought.  Pointing at my eleven year old son, I said, “Yes.”  
Lowering my finger, I turned towards Lisa and continued, 
“Watching you let your brother use your hole to shoot into 
showed me how much you…” I glanced back towards Ben, “…two love 
each other.”  I took a breath then continued, “And seeing how 
much my children love each other made me really happy…” I looked 
directly at Lisa, “…kinda like how Ben feels when you let him 
shoot in your hole.”

“Oh…” my seven year old daughter said as she tried to understand 
what I had just told her.  “But the wet spot was on your butt; 
shouldn’t it have been on your front?” she thought aloud.

“The stuff that comes out of girls comes out of their holes, 
which point down,” I said.

Even after hearing me say that, there was a confused look on 
Lisa’s face.  Before I could continue speaking, for good or for 
bad, Ben picked up my explanation, “Kinda like how the stuff I 
shoot in your hole drains out into your panties afterwards.”

“Oh…” Lisa said as she tried to understand what her brother and 
I had just told her.  “But the wet spot on your butt: it looked 
like the wet stuff that made it was kinda watery, not creamy?” 
she asked looking directly at me.

“The stuff that comes out of girls when they get really happy 
like that is different than the stuff that comes out of boys,” 
I began trying to explain.  “The stuff that comes out of girls 
is thinner and almost clear.”

“Oh,” Lisa said in a voice that sounded so definitive, that I 
was certain she finally understood what I was trying to explain.  
Half a second later she asked, “How come I never shot the stuff 
out of my hole?”

“The stuff that comes out of girls holes doesn’t usually shoot 
out: usually it kinda drips or drools out,” I said.

“And maybe you weren’t happy enough for it to happen,” Ben added.

“Well, why wasn’t I happy enough?” Lisa asked sounding somewhere 
between mad and disappointed.

I wasn’t quite sure how to answer my daughter’s question, but I 
found myself saying, “Girls need to be a lot happier than boys 
do for the stuff to come out of them…”  After saying those words 
I thought for half a second before adding, “But when girls are 
happy enough, they can make the stuff come out over and over 
and over again…and boy can’t do that…”

“Really!?” Lisa beamed.

“Yes, really,” I declared, as my mind wandered back to the 
rolling orgasms I’d had with Lisa’s father…as I began to feel 
a familiar dampness building inside my pussy.

“So has the stuff come out of you over and over again before 
Mommy?” Lisa asked in an excited yet way too innocent sounding 
voice.

“A few times…” I thought out loud.  

“Wow…  So after I shoot, I usually feel a little tired; you 
must’ve felt real tired after shooting the stuff over and over 
again,” Ben commented.

“Yea; I did feel tired afterwards, but it’s a good tired, and 
usually I’d be asleep not long after,” I half explained / half 
reminisced.  As I was speaking I felt the dampness inside my 
pussy turning into a full-fledged moistness: the conversation 
I was having with my children was turning me on! 

“I never fall asleep after I shoot,” Ben commented; his voice 
sounding as if he was more thinking than speaking.

“You’re probably hungry afterwards, right?” I half asked my son; 
thinking of how his father always wanted to raid the frig after 
we had sex.

“Yea…I always want a sandwich…” he replied in a voice that was 
halfway between confused and nervous.

“How’d you know that Mommy?” Lisa asked.

“Lots of boys feel hungry afterwards,” I answered.

“Oh…” both children said at the same time.

After a very brief silence Lisa asked, “How can I get happy 
enough for the stuff to come out of me over and over again?”

I forced myself to take a breath in order to buy myself a little 
time to come up with an answer.  

Unfortunately Ben took the opportunity that time provided to 
suggest, “Maybe Mom could show us a way to make you happier.”

“Could you Mommy?  Please, please.” My seven year old daughter 
began to beg.

“Yeah, okay,” I answered before wondering why I had said that.

“So how…” Lisa trailed off; clearly not fully sure what she was 
trying to ask.

After about forty-five seconds of eerie silence, Ben suggested, 
“Maybe we should go upstairs…”

“Yea, it’ll be easier on a bed,” I heard my own voice say 
despite not even realizing I had opened my mouth to speak.  

Before Ben or I could even stand up, Lisa had hopped off the 
sofa and ran to the bottom of the stairs.  “Come on,” she 
practically begged.

“Go to my room,” I declared as my seven year old daughter ran 
up the steps; her eleven year old brother hot on her heels.

In the minute or so it took me to get upstairs and to my bedroom 
door, both of my children had shed all of their clothing and sat 
down on the edge of my bed.  

“Okay,” I began speaking before pausing while I pulled my shirt 
up and over my head.  Once the thin cotton fabric was clear of 
my face I continued speaking, “Lisa: get up on the bed and sit 
near the pillows.”  While pulling my sweatpants down I added, 
“Ben, you move to the bottom of the bed.”

Both children did as instructed while I stepped out of my 
sweatpants. Once fully nude, I sat on the bed.  Twisting and 
shimmying my body over, I positioned myself in the middle of 
the bed and layed on my back.  I spread my legs and instructed, 
“Ben, get on top of me like you did with Lisa.”

Before I could say another word my eleven year old son had moved 
between my legs and was laying down on top of me.  Little more 
than a second later I felt the familiar sensation of a hard 
dick-head pressing against the opening of my vagina.  Clearly 
Ben felt this as well, because he rocked his hips forward: the 
entire length of his dick sliding into my pussy in a single 
smooth movement.

As he began withdrawing his eleven-year-old member from my 
decidedly moist pussy I reveled in the notion that my son’s 
penis, the most obvious physical symbol of his maleness, was 
inside the vagina which had given him birth.  He was, in a 
sense, returning to my womb…disturbing as that though should 
have been, I found it to be an absolutely delectable idea and 
incredibly erotic…

I took a breath to clear those sexy thought from my head for a 
moment so I could tell my daughter how to join-in on our 
inter-generational incestuous fun.  “Lisa, squat over my face,” 
I instructed.

“You want me over your face, Mommy/” the seven year old girl 
questioned.

“Yes,” I replied before adding, “Feet on either side of my head, 
put your hole above my mouth.”

Lisa slowly followed my instructions.  The moment her 
seven-year-old pre-pubescent little-girl pussy was within an 
inch of my lips I stuck my tongue out and began licking 
up-and-down the length of her immature slit.  “That feels funny, 
Mommy,” Lisa giggled.

While continuing to slide his eleven-year-old dick in-and-out of
my adult pussy, Ben asked, “Good funny; not bad funny, right?”

“Yea, good funny,” Lisa giggled.  Upon hearing her saying that 
she like the tonguing I was giving her, I stiffened my tongue 
and forced its tip in through the entrance of her little-girl 
pussy.  “Oh…wow…” she half gasped: yeah, she liked having her 
mommy go down on her…

After little more than a minute of heavy breathing, Lisa gasped, 
“Iaaa…”  The temperature of her immature tight little-girl pussy 
increased so quickly that I could actually feel the change on my 
tongue.   As I began to wonder how hot her pre-pubescent little 
pussy could get she shrieked and her small seven-year-old body 
began shaking.  I quickly grabbed hold of her narrow hips and 
held her pelvis as still as I possible so I could continue giving 
her a proper tonguing.  

After several minutes of my daughter thrashing about on top of 
my face, I felt Ben’s body tense up.  He quickly shoved the 
entire length of his preteenaged dick into my adult pussy not 
more than a millisecond before I felt the familiar warm wetness 
of cum shooting into my fuck-hole.   

I was aware of the fact that I was getting close to an orgasm 
for about a minute; and yet, somehow the electric shock emanating 
from my clit coursing out in all directions through my body still 
took me by surprise.  Clearly that warm wet blast of cum was all 
I had needed to push me over the edge.  

Despite the shaking of my own body, I did my best to continue 
giving my seven year old daughter’s pre-pubescent little-girl 
pussy the tonguing it so rightly deserved.  

Little more than three seconds after my orgasm began Lisa’s 
orgasm seemed to double-down: her small seven-year-old body was 
shaking even harder, and for a very brief moment a series of 
tiny shots of her little-girl love-juices found their way out of 
her spasming immature pussy and onto my tongue.  Despite the 
electric shocks of my own orgasm shooting through my body, I 
managed to gulp down each and every precious drop of my daughter’s 
pre-pubescent love-juices.  

Suddenly, through my orgasm, I had a most unwelcome thought / 
feeling: Ben was beginning to withdraw his softening 
eleven-year-old dick from my pussy.  Wanting to keep enjoying 
the semi-fullness his four-inch pre-teenage member provided in 
my still orgasmicly spasming pussy, I quickly raised my lower 
legs up and locked my ankles behind his butt: forcing him to 
remain inside me.

“Mom?...” I could just barely hear Ben say: clearly he was 
surprised that I was holding him inside me.  He may have been 
surprised by it, but there was no way I was going to let him 
pull out before my orgasm subsided.

Little more than ten seconds later, Lisa’s orgasm began to die 
down.  And, a few seconds later my own did as well…

Once Lisa’s small seven-year-old body stopped shaking, I withdrew 
my tongue from her immature pre-pubescent little-girl pussy.  As 
my tongue moved back into my mouth I savored the last hints of 
the flavor of her little-girl sex-juices…GOD they were delicious…

“Wow Mommy…” Lisa panted as she rolled off of my face to my 
right side.

Half a second later, as the very last twinges of my orgasm faded 
from my body, I unhooked my ankles from behind Ben’s butt.  He 
quickly rocked his body back: withdrawing his completely soft 
eleven-year-old dick from my sopping wet pussy, that very 
movement creating the most obscenely erotic slurping sound I’ve 
ever heard.

“Yeah…you said it: wow,” Ben added as he rolled off to my left 
side.


“Yeah…yeah…that…was GOOD…” I panted my agreement.

For a few minutes the three of us layed there while we caught 
our breath.  Then I broke the silence by informing my children, 
“You two are sleeping in bed with me tonight.”  

Lifting my feet and legs up I turned to my daughter and 
instructed, “Lisa, push the covers down.”  She followed my 
directions: pushing the covers down far enough that when I 
lowered my legs my feet were on the fitted sheet only.  

Turning to my son, I instructed, “Ben, help your sister pull 
the covers back up and once we’re all under them, turn off 
the light.”  Both children pulled the covers up and over our 
naked bodies.  Lisa rolled onto her left side, so that she was 
facing me and layed her head on my chest, just below my right
shoulder.  Ben reached around and turned the light on the 
nightstand off before rolling onto his right side, so that he 
was facing me and layed his head on my left shoulder.  

With the positions both of them were in it was easy for me to 
move my hands to their bare butts and pull them in close to me.  

In a matter of seconds both children were asleep.  

For several minutes I layed there awake thinking about how 
GREAT making love to my children had been…  In short order I 
decided that we would do this every night.

Then, perhaps a moment later, I remembered that I wasn’t on 
birth control!  And my son had just cum inside me: OH SHIT!!!  
For about a minute I was wracked with fear at the very prospect 
that my eleven-year-old son might have just knocked me up; but 
the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Ben would 
be a great father for his future siblings…