Date: Sat, 22 Oct 2022 10:58:28 -0700
From: Hey All <heyallstories@gmail.com>
Subject: Pearl Necklace from Mom (bisexual, incest)

"Pearl Necklace from Mom" by HeyAll

Note: The following story contains brother/sister incest, along with
mom/son/daughter m/f/f incest.  Thank you Nifty for hosting.  To find
more of my stories on Nifty, do a search for "heyall"

Twitter & Instagram: @heyallstories

The following story is told from two perspectives.

****

~~~~~ THE SHOP KEEPER'S PERSPECTIVE ~~~~~

I work alone in my small antique shop.  After I park my car, I notice
there's a woman standing outside the front door.  The store doesn't
open for another hour so this is unusual.  Even at my age, I'm still
able to remember my customers.  The woman's name is Leonor and she made
a purchase about a month ago.


Leonor is beautifully dressed in a coat with formal office attire
underneath.  I'm supposed to unpack a shipment that I received last
night.  Her situation seems urgent and her face seems tense.  A rare
thing to see from a client.  All I do is sell and trade antiques.


"Morning," I say.  "You're here early."

"Yes, I apologize for not calling.  I wasn't sure if I wanted to come.
But as I was driving to work, I felt compelled to speak with you."

"That's fine.  Let me get the door."

I unlock the front door and we enter my shop.  The morning light is
coming through the windows and I tell her to sit anywhere.  She removes
her coat and sits in a guest seat, in the center of the shop, and I sit
across from her.  She looks nervous, maybe even a little embarrassed.


Leonor takes a small box from her coat pocket and hands it to me.


"Where did you get this?" she asks.


I take the small box and open it.  Inside has a pearl necklace with
heart-shaped jewelry in the center.  She had inserted a family picture in
the heart-shaped jewelry, which is what it's for.  This is the item she
purchased from my shop last month.


"A man from England traded it with me," I say.  "Let me see... a few
months ago, if I recall.  We met online.  He's an antique dealer.  If I
recall, he got it from India and it's several hundred years old.  Why do
you ask?"

"Is it confirmed that it's from India?"

"Yes, it's been inspected.  I always inspect."

"What about the age?" she asks.  "Is it really that old?"

"Everything I sell goes through some degree of testing.  Why do you
ask?  Why do you seem upset?"

This is my second time meeting Leonor and the difference is stark.  Our
first meeting was on a weekend, she was upbeat and dazzling.  She came
here with a friend and they were interested in making purchases.  Now it
appears as though Leonor has hardly slept.  The lines around her eyes are
more pronounced.


"I don't know how to say this."

"Do you want a refund?" I ask.


"It's not that.  Are you religious?  Or do you believe in
superstition?"

"Yes, to both points."

"There's something I want to tell you.  I hope it stays between us, for
now.  It's about the necklace and my family.  I'm hoping you can help
me."

I nod.  "Of course.  This sounds urgent."

"It's about sex.  I know, strange combination, right?  Sex and family.
But it's true and happening to us.  Are you interested in hearing
this?"

The look in her eyes is serious, which piques my interest.  But I control
myself.  I've studied various forms of mysticism all my life, it's one
of my great interests.  I keep these interests to myself because the
subject matter isn't for everyone.


In all my years of research, I've read supposedly true stories of what
Leonor is talking about -- sex and family.  Forces so powerful that they
can cause unholy couplings that never should have happened. Are her
claims legitimate?  That's the question.  I have to tread lightly, let
her be in charge, let her reveal her secrets.


I look at the picture in the heart-shaped jewelry dangling on the pearl
necklace.  It's a picture of young adults, male and female.


"Your son and daughter?" I ask.


"That's right, Noah and Emily, my adult children."

"Tell me everything.  Whatever you say, I'll believe you."


I put the necklace in the box and place it on the table.  Leonor checks
her watch, then looks at me with eyes that show determination.


"There's enough time before work," she says.  "Okay, I'll start.  I
came here last month with a friend who loves antiques.  We go shopping
together all the time, but my taste is modern.  I was never interested in
antiques.  My friend found a few things to purchase, and even though I
didn't want anything, I'm a big supporter of small businesses.   So I
kept an open mind and looked for something to buy.


She continues, "The pearl necklace caught my eye.  The Crown is one of
my favorite shows and the necklace reminded me of that.  And I loved the
written description that it's centuries old, and from India, where I
once traveled.   I saw that the tiny jewelry at the center could store a
picture inside.   It seemed perfect."

"Did you have your kids in mind?" I ask.


"They were the only people I thought of."

"Why?  Obviously it's your family, but I'd like to hear your
reasoning, in detail if that's okay."


Leonor checks her watch, then nods.


"Because I've always wanted them to be closer," she says.


"They don't get along?"


"If there's anything you should know about my kids, it's that they're
worlds apart.  They've never been that close, to be honest.  If they
weren't siblings, they definitely wouldn't be friends.  Noah is the
`jock type.'  He played high school football, very into sports.  Very
masculine.  Testosterone charged, you get the idea. He's currently a
firefighter, his second year on the job.


She continues, "My daughter Emily is the opposite.  She's younger by a
few years.  She's thin, skinny, very smart, very academic.  Wears
glasses which Noah used to tease her about when they were young.  Emily
is one of the most polite women you'll ever meet.  No question.  The
girl is a charm.


She continues, "Sure they get along, they love each other as siblings
do, but they have different hobbies.  Different types of friends.
Nothing about them is a match. They never have get-togthers where it's
just the two of them."

"Did you wish they would spend more time together?" I ask.  "Perhaps a
lunch date?  Going out to the movies?"

"That's every mother's wish.  I'm getting older.  I won't be around
forever and I want Noah and Emily to care for each other when I'm gone.
That's why I invite them to my house every Saturday or Sunday for
lunch.  Most of the time they're both able to make it.  To clarify,
Emily lives in a dorm, about an hour's drive.  Noah lives alone in an
apartment, about 30 minutes away.


She gives a nervous laugh, shakes her head.  "Want to hear the rest?"

The tone of Leonor's voice is disbelief, as if she can hardly believe
what she's saying.  As if I'll think she's crazy.  The truth is, I'm
open to these ideas and I wish they were true.


"You can tell me anything," I say.  "This topic is my realm."

"Okay, so I planned to keep the pearl necklace in my room as decoration,
something to hang on my bedroom wall.  About a week after I purchased it,
I ordered a tiny photograph of my son and daughter.  The picture would be
for the necklace.  It came in the mail after a few days.


She continues, "It was early morning, the weekend, and I cut the
photograph to the right size, then I inserted it in the heart-shaped
jewelry, which dangled on the necklace.  I was happy with the final
product.  These days, most pictures are digital.  So it was nice having
that pearl necklace with a photo of them.  It was enchanting.  Elegant.


She continues, "My son and daughter were coming over for lunch that
day.  I thought about showing them the pearl necklace, but it seemed... I
don't know... like an embarrassing mom-thing to do.  I've always been a
sentimental woman, almost to a fault, and sometimes my kids tease me for
that.  So I figured the necklace would be my personal decoration.
Something I'd keep for myself, to look at once in a while.


She continues, "When they came over, things felt different.  It's
impossible to explain.  Neither of them looked at their phones.  They
talked way more than usual, they laughed, shared stories.  Stood and sat
closer than normal.  The chemistry between them was palpable.  During
lunch the energy was lively.  It was like they were best friends who
hadn't seen each other in a long time."

"How did that make you feel?" I ask.


"Delighted.  It's every mother's wish."

"At that point, did you think the necklace had anything to do with it?"

"Not at all," she says.  "That didn't cross my mind at that point.
Some days are just positive, you know?  Positive vibes are real.  I
thought perhaps my positive mood had rubbed off on them.  Or maybe it was
a coincidence that all of us were in a good mood.  It happens.  Life is
beautiful."


"What made you first suspicious of the necklace?"

A nervous smile appears on Leonor's face.  Her cheeks are in the early
stages of turning red from blushing.  She purses her lips, then gulps.


"I heard them fucking," she says.


"You what?"

"Exactly what I said.  You heard me correctly."

"How fascinating.  Tell me what happened."


"It was the following weekend," she says.  "The same setup.  Family
lunch at my place.  It was a nice day, so Noah arrived wearing a tshirt
and jeans.  He's a fit, muscular young man.  A firefighter, as I've
mentioned.  He looked freshly showered, his hair was combed, as if going
on a date.


She continues, "Emily arrived later, wearing a thin, knee-length dress.
Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail, which I thought was cute.  She
wore thick-framed glasses that day.  It was like lightning struck twice,
because Noah and Emily were both drawn to each other again.  They talked
and laughed in the living room while I was cooking lunch.  The tv was on,
as usual, a sports game my son was watching.  As I've mentioned, it's a
beautiful feeling as a mother to hear a house full of love.  But it was
so unlike them.


She continues, "I was making pan-fried chicken and the kitchen was
filled with sizzling noises.  I noticed that the living room had gone
quiet, except for the tv.  It was odd.  When the food was ready I needed
their help to prepare the dishes.  I checked the living room and no one
was there.


She continues, "Their shoes were still by the entrance, so the obvious
answer was that they went upstairs.  So I went upstairs to get them.  I
assumed they were in one of their old bedrooms for sentimental reasons.
When I reached the top of the stairs, I heard something that stopped me
cold.


She continues, "Emily has a distinct voice.  It's high pitched,
adorable.  Her voice is recognizable.  Behind a closed door, I heard
Emily moaning.  Not one or two.  Several.  In a row.  It was non-stop and
she tried to keep quiet.  But if you know my daughter, you'll know that
she's very sensitive and can't hold her emotions in.  I pressed my ear
to the door.  I know what I heard.


She continues, "I remember going back to the kitchen and standing there,
dumbfounded, not knowing what to do.  I was in a state of disbelief.  A
few minutes later, I heard the door open, then I called them for lunch.
They came down acting like nothing happened, but there were sly smiles on
their faces, which they tried to hide.


She continues, "My daughter is immaculate with how she wears clothes.
She has an analytical mind.  I noticed her dress was slightly off place.
Her hair was a bit disheveled.  During lunch, her face was glowing, the
way an orgasm makes a woman's face glow.  They could hardly look at each
other, but they were flirty during conversations.  I wanted to scream."


"How certain are you that the sound was sex?" I ask.


"Put it this way.  If they weren't my kids, I would say 100%
certainty.  The sound was so distinct.  I just couldn't believe it.  How
could they?  It didn't make sense."


"Could they have been working out?  Exercise makes people breathe
harder.  It would also explain the disheveled clothes and hair.  It would
also explain the glow on Emily's face because of the endorphins and
blood flow."

"Women are primal creatures," she says.  "I know the difference
between post-workout endorphins and sexual euphoria."


"Did you ever get confirmation about what they were doing?  Or does this
remain speculative?"

"I've always had a close relationship with Emily; we tell each other
everything.  This may seem strange to you, but Emily used to ask me
questions about sex, and sometimes we still have those conversations.
Before she lost her virginity on prom night, we had a heart-to-heart
discussion.  She was nervous about talking to me, but felt that I was the
only woman she could confide in.  I've told her sexual things about me
as well.  We have that kind of mother/daughter relationship.


She continues, "The following morning, I texted Emily and asked her to
come over.  She was meeting with friends that morning, so she came to my
house late afternoon.  I kept thinking how I would even approach a
subject like this.  But as a mother, I had to.  Part of me worried that
Noah was abusing her.


She continues, "We sat down in the living room and I served
cappuccinos.  I decided that the best approach was to be honest, yet
cautious.  It was a delicate situation, after all.  I asked Emily what
she had been doing upstairs with her brother.  The question shocked
Emily, but she didn't deny it.  She never lies to me.  She just sat
there and there was silence in the room.  Emily knew she'd been caught
and that she'd done something wrong.


She continues, "I gave her time to answer however she'd like.  This was
her space.  Emily apologized.  When I asked if Noah was abusing her, she
unequivocally rejected that notion.  It was the opposite.  Emily told me
they were in love."

"In love?" I ask.


"That's right.  Her tone spoke volumes.  It was something beyond a
normal love that siblings share.  It was the tone of lovers.  When I
asked her to clarify, she had a difficult time explaining.  She couldn't
come up with a straight answer.  Keep in mind, this is a girl who writes
lengthy research reports for her classes.  When I asked how long it had
been going on, Emily said it was their first time."

"That's when you knew it was the pearl necklace," I say.


Leonor nods.  "It clicked in my mind, that after I put the picture of
them inside the heart-shaped jewelry, that's when the whole thing
started."

"Did it happen since?  What was the result?"

"The long answer is that I tried talking sense into Emily, explaining
the obvious, that it's morally repugnant.  I avoided being too
judgmental, and I avoided using the word `incest,' but I appealed to
her feminine nature.  I told Emily that there are plenty of guys that are
right for her.  That she should understand that Noah is the wrong
choice.


She continues, "During my redundant monologue, Emily agreed with
everything I was saying.  She knew it was wrong, that it was incest, that
she'd never voluntarily do things with her own brother.  Yet I could
tell that she had zero intention of stopping.  Her commitment to her
brother seemed unshakable.  The only plausible explanation was that the
pearl necklace had something to do with it.


She continues, "The short answer to your question was that it happened
again.  I trusted Emily to make the right decision with her body, to come
to her senses, but I was wrong.  We had a family lunch recently.  I let
the situation play out.  It was the same as before.  They snuck upstairs
while I was cooking.  When I finished, I looked for them.  I heard the
same sounds of Emily moaning from her old bedroom.  This time I couldn't
resist and I opened the door.  Gently.  Quietly.  I didn't want them to
hear me.  As I opened the door, I saw Emily's small feet in the air,
Noah's muscular backside on top.  I closed the door and left."

"Have you spoken to your son?" I ask.


"No, I've never spoken with Noah about sex, except for early education
years ago."

"Have you considered removing the picture from the jewelry?"

"I was afraid it might have the opposite effect and split their
relationship."

"That's a smart point," I say.  "How do you currently feel about this
situation?"

"Not great.  I can hardly sleep.  That's why I'm here today.  I was
hoping you knew something about the jewelry.  And yes, I'm convinced
it's the pearl necklace. I've never been superstitious until now.   Do
you have an idea on how to make this stop?"


I ponder the question.  It's my first time dealing with this
circumstance and I'm at a loss for words.  Leonor has desperation in her
eyes.


"There are a few people I can call," I say.  "There are also emails I
can send.  I must confess, this is new.  However, in the meantime, I
think it's best if you let the situation continue freely."

"What?!"

"Trust me when I say this; there is nothing to be ashamed about.  Emily
may be acting under compulsory influences.  She did as she was
compelled.  The same thing with Noah apparently.  But allowing this to
happen doesn't mean you accept or condone it.  It means there are forces
outside of your control.  In the meantime -- until I find a solution -- I
recommend that you keep a watchful eye on them.  Make sure they're
safe."


As one would expect, Leonor, the dutiful mother, is taken aback.  She
wants to give a rebuttal, but decides against it.  It takes a while for
my suggestion to sink in.  When she finally realizes that it's the best
course of action, she nods and accepts it.


~~~~~ THE NEIGHBOR'S PERSPECTIVE ~~~~~

My husband thinks I'm crazy, but I swear the sounds coming from the
house next door are lewd and lascivious.  I've been close friends with
Leonor for over a decade.  I've known her to be an upright and moral
person.  That's why it's surprising to hear such noises during the
weekend, when her adult children come to visit.


At first I thought it was a misunderstanding.  So I laughed about it.  If
I'm home during the weekend, I catch up on household chores and leave
the window open, but then the same noises would continue each week.  I
assumed it was a new boyfriend that Leonor hadn't told me about, but
when I see Noah and Emily leaving and they're talking outside, I never
see a boyfriend.  Leonor's house becomes quiet afterward.


My husband thinks I'm being obsessive.  Then last weekend, I heard the
noises through our window and called my husband to listen.  It was the
first time he acknowledged that I may be right.  Leonor's bedroom window
was open so the sound was clear.  Regardless, my husband brushed it off.


Now it seems unmistakable.  This time the sounds are coming from
Leonor's living room.  I can hear it from my kitchen while my husband is
watching football with friends from the office.  I figure this is my
chance to find out, once and for all.


I serve my husband and his friends a tray of freshly baked pastries,
which they devour while watching the football game.  I tell my husband
that I'm going to bring some pastries to Leonor, that I'll be back in a
few minutes.


My stomach is in knots as I wear my shoes and walk next door, while I can
still hear the noise of what's happening in Leonor's home.  The noise
is coming from their open kitchen window and I can smell the scent of
beef stew.


The closer I get to their home, the dumber I feel.  What on earth am I
thinking?  What am I doing?  I chide myself for imagining such nasty
things about a beautiful and wholesome family.  Just what do I expect to
find?  Regardless, I've already come this far and I'm happy to share
freshly baked pastries with Leonor's family.


I stop when I approach their front door.  I can't bring myself to knock
because I can still hear the sounds.  Emily's voice.  She's screaming.
Maybe crying.  What on earth is going on?  Her voice is squealing and it
sounds like she's in agony.  The rhythmic tempo of her screams suggests
that the feeling is pleasurable -- something that sounds like sex.


Becoming a voyeur, I take a few steps to the side of their patio and look
through the window.  My jaw drops.  My stomach sinks.  It's exactly what
I had thought all along.  Rough sex is happening in their living room.


Emily is naked on the couch and her feet are pointed in the air.  A
muscular young man, who is also naked, is thrusting on top of her.  It's
mind-boggling to see something like this happen so brazenly in their
household.  Who the hell is this guy?  Emily's out-of-control new
boyfriend?  And where exactly is the mother?  Leonor should be in a fit
of rage.


It takes me a moment to realize the young man is Noah, which churns my
stomach.  It's the same athletic figure, the same haircut, and I can see
the side of Noah's face whenever he rises with enough thrusts.  Brother
and sister?  How can it be?  It's impossible to comprehend.

Ever since moving here over a decade ago, I've been close with Leonor
and her family.  Noah used to help me (and my husband) with yardwork or
carrying heavy furniture.  I used to help Emily with her advanced science
and math classes in high school.  I even helped her get into a great
college with my recommendation letter.  Our families exchanged food and
friendly services all the time.


Now this?  How long has it been going on?  It's incest.  It's illegal.
It's immoral.  But I see Emily's toes curl and her moans become
louder.  She's going to cum, thanks to what her older brother is doing
to her.  Her scream is one that I'll always remember, as Noah thrusts
with breathtaking speed.


They appear to finish at the same time, with Noah laying on top of her,
then the moaning and movements slow to a halt.  I want to leave, but I
can't stop watching this baffling act between siblings that I deeply
care about.


Noah stands, his penis limp and covered in wet fluids.  It's my official
confirmation that it's indeed the older brother.  He's speaking, but I
can't hear what he's saying.


Emily sits upright.  The evidence of intense sexual arousal is still
displayed on her body, in the form of erect pink nipples.  I never
thought I'd see her nipples, she's always properly dressed, and I never
thought I'd see her naked during sex.  Her glasses are on the couch and
she wears them, adjusting them to the right place so she can have a clear
view of her brother's messy penis.


I gasp watching her giving oral sex.  First she inspected it, looking at
the semen and fluids mixture on her brother's penis, then she put it in
her mouth.  Her cheeks look hollow and sucked-in from the power of
suction.  Her head goes back and forth.  Noah tucks her hair behind her
ear, watching this happen and enjoying the cleaning.


My stomach is twisting and I want to walk away, but my legs feel numb.  I
don't want to make a noise or else they'd see me.  And I can't take my
eyes away.


Emily finishes sucking, then kisses her brother's crotch and thighs.  An
act of intimacy between lovers, but they're siblings.  How long has this
been happening?  How did it start?  Which one of them pursued this adult
relationship first?


Then the ultimate shock occurs.


Leonor, my dear friend of the past many years, walks naked into the
living room.  Her heavy breasts and curly bush are on display.  She's
holding two cups of her famous lemonade.  She hands a glass to each naked
sibling, who accept and rehydrate themselves after sex.  How could she?
How dare she?  What is wrong with this woman?

I've always known Leonor to be the ideal woman in our community.  She
works hard and does everything right.  As friends, we're tight.  We go
shopping sometimes and often have dinner at each other's house.
Sometimes we'll try new outfits in each other's presence, getting down
to our bras and panties.  Never naked.  This is my first time seeing her
fully nude -- and she's standing in front of her naked siblings who just
finished having sex.


The sight is overwhelming and I step away from the window.  Gently as
possible.  They can never know I'm here.  It's a conversation I want to
avoid. The drama isn't worth it.  I take my pastries and I'll come back
later, when Noah and Emily are gone.  When the sex and home nudity
between them are finished.


My stomach churns.


At night I consider telling my husband the big secret before going to
bed. I decide against it because I know the legal and social problems
Leonor would have.  She'd be ruined, without a doubt.  Noah would lose
his job.  Emily could be kicked out of college.  This is a tight
community and word travels fast.


When the lights are off, I think about what could possess a woman like
Leonor to do this with her adult children.  I wonder how long it's been
going on.  And who started it.  What's the appeal?  Emily is an
attractive young woman, Noah is an attractive young man.  Both have
interesting personalities.  Both of them are appealing to the opposite
sex.  It remains mysterious why they'd be doing such a thing with each
other.


Perhaps it's my way of attempting to understand them, or maybe I
haven't had great sex in years, but I slip my hand below and touch
myself.  My husband is fast asleep while my index finger rubs my clit.
I've always thought of Emily as being a pretty and kind-hearted girl.  I
think of her small feet in the air and the noises she made when her
athletic brother defiled her.  Then I think of the erectness of her
delicate pink nipples followed by the oral she gave.  Most of all, I
think of Leonor's heavy set breasts as she served lemonade.


This gives me an orgasm.


An intense one.  To my surprise.


It's morning and my husband left for work a few moments ago.  I'm
leaving for the office soon, but I finish getting dressed by the living
room window.  I need to meet with Leonor this morning because it's the
only time we can have a brief conversation in private.  All I need is a
few minutes to clear the air, otherwise this issue will drive me insane.


Leonor opens her garage door and picks up the newspaper in her driveway.
It's the same time she always does it.  We're both punctual and stick
to routines.


I go outside and say hello.  Leonor smiles and we kiss on the cheek.
She's dressed in her office clothes with her car keys in hand.


"The pastries were delicious, thanks again," she says.


She had already thanked me yesterday via text message, but said it
anyway.


"It was a new recipe.  I wanted to share it with your family, but I
didn't want to disturb anything.  That's why I left it at the door."

Her eyes narrow, wondering if I know the secret.  I always knock when
delivering food; she does the same thing when coming to my house.  It's
unusual to just leave food at the door.


"Don't be absurd, you never disturb us," she says with a forced smile.
"You're always welcome on family days.  Noah and Emily love seeing
you."

I decide to drop the bomb.


"Actually, that's why I wanted to talk to you.  I saw what happened
yesterday.  Through the window.  I came over to bring pastries and I
heard the noises and looked inside.  I saw everything."

Leonor just nods.  I can hardly read her expression because it's one
I've never seen before.  She conceals her shame.  She hides the
humiliation she feels.  Her face tries to be blank, but she has feelings
she hides from me.


"Are you going to tell anyone?" she asks.


Her answer surprises me because she doesn't even attempt to deny this.


"No one knows," I say.  "It'll stay that way, for now."


"Thank you.  Look, both of us have jobs.  We need to get to work soon.
It's a very long story and there's not enough time to get into it right
now.  But I'm still figuring things out.  I'm going to find a solution
to this."

"A solution?  Leonor, your siblings were having sex in the living room.
You were butt naked serving them some fucking lemonade as if it were a
regular day.  What the hell has gotten into you?"

My voice is controlled so neighbors can't hear.  Leonor remains
composed.


"Yes, that's right," she says.  "And you know what?  I've fucked
both of them, too.  You don't have the right to judge me.  You don't
know the whole story."

I'm speechless at her defiance.  My jaw hangs and I just stare at her,
one of my closest friends.  Assuming we're still friends and haven't
turned into enemies.


She continues in a softer tone, "Listen, I'm sorry I said that.  I'm
under an incredible amount of stress.  Let's meet for coffee later
today.  I'll explain everything.  Okay?"

"You fucked them?" I ask, still in disbelief.


Leonor's face remains unchanged.  Her eyes confirm the truth.


"I'll explain after work later.  Hopefully you'll believe me.  But
yes, I've done things with them.  Sexual things."


"Such as?" I ask.


She indulges my question.  "I've guided Noah's erect penis inside his
sister.  I've helped prepare Emily for rough sex sessions with her
brother.  I've eaten Emily out a few times.  I've even had sex with
Noah when Emily's thin body couldn't handle the pounding anymore.  I
let Emily and Noah fuck in my living room to make sure it happens in a
controlled setting.  I'm telling you this because I want to prove my
honesty."


"Do you enjoy it?"


"Please..."

"Just answer me," I say.


Her eyes water.  "Not at first, but eventually, yes.  I love that
they're in love.  I love the immense pleasure they feel.  And I feel the
same pleasure when watching them, or sucking on them.  Or letting my son
fuck me.  I'll admit that Noah is the best fuck of my life.  I've never
cum as hard as when Noah claims me in the shower, or bent over the
kitchen counter, or the dining room table.  I'm still trying to come to
terms with incest.  I'm working on a solution to ending this.  You have
to believe me.  Keep this a secret, please?"


Her candor disarms me.  Berating her is the last thing I want to do.
She's my friend, I want to help her.  I want to understand her.

"Fine.  We'll talk later."


We're on the verge of tears as I walk away.  I go inside my house and
close the door, waiting until she leaves.  A few minutes later, Leonor
starts her car and drives to work.  I look at her from my living room,
her face looks emotionally broken, yet confident somehow.


I also need to leave, but not yet.  I'll arrive late to the office
today.  I pull my pants down and sit on the couch.  Fingering myself in
the morning is something I never do, because I'm a professional with
important responsibilities, but this feels urgent.  As much as incest
repulses me, I finger myself thinking of what Leonor said moments ago
about Noah and Emily, how she fucks and sucks them.


My orgasm is oddly satisfying and the euphoria will linger.  I don't
want to sympathize with Leonor, but a part of me is beginning to
understand.


The End

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