Date: Sun, 7 May 2023 15:16:10 +0000 (UTC) From: Jeremy Reynolds Subject: Chapters 3 through 5 of A Shared Heart (Copyright: all rights reserved. This story may be re-published with permission, in the current or in a proofed, edited form approved of by the author.) Hello! Disclaimer: I do *not* at all condone many of the behaviors depicted in this fantasy, seeing as they occur between adults and minors. In real life, someone who does what the adults in this story do are doing something very harmful. At times some of the adults discuss the morality of adult-minor relationships. These are solely the views of the characters themselves and they only serve the purpose of furthering the story along. There is also some material related to pregnancy by way of incest, that I also do not condone. Finally, there is a reference in this story to another of my stories, "A Mother's Infinite Love." The specific reference the character makes is entirely fictional. I do not want to receive any emails with any illegal or morally wrong material. I also do not want anything like dick pics sent to me. Thank you, hope you enjoy! Please email other responses to: jeremyreynolds1234@myyahoo.com. Reminder that Nifty needs your donations to provide these wonderful stories. Please use this link to make a donation: https://donate.nifty.org/) This story features themes of bisexual incest, with depictions of parents and their teenage children engaging in sexual behavior together. There are four main characters in this story: -Evan (13 years old), and his sister, Ashley (12 years old) -Their parents, Paul and Maggie The various chapters are from their various points of view, as indicated in each subtitle. Chapter 3: Ashley I definitely noticed that sometimes I'd get looks from Daddy and Evan that weren't entirely fatherly or brotherly. I'd catch Daddy gazing at me at the pool in the bathing suit, averting his eyes when I'd look back at him, or I'd pass by my brother in the hall between my room and our bathroom, wrapped up only in a towel, and I'd see him glancing down at my chest, and then he'd lose his wits for a minute, suddenly acting like a complete idiot. I noticed all this, more so recently. The thing is, though: I liked it. I hadn't at first, or at first I had been more surprised and confused. Now, however, I basked in their attention, feeling incredibly flattered by it, and I was amused at how much of an influence I could have on their states of mind. And although I found myself sometimes getting a little flirty with them I considered it all for fun; it's not like they or I would act on whatever attraction there was between us. I'll admit I thought both of them, Daddy and Evan, were attractive, but that'd be weird, so weird, being with them in any way, and maybe morally wrong! And it'd probably hurt Mom real bad too. Speaking of Mom: she was an angel. Not only was she beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, too. Her heart was so kind and tender, so full of love and compassion and courage. The goodness seemed to sometimes glow from her delicate face, her long, graceful arms, her thick and lush blonde hair, the deep blue pools of her eyes ... Truth be told, I think I had a little "thing" for her, possibly always had. I know that she's my mother, as I know that Daddy and Evan are who they are. Unlike with those two, there seemed to be something more between me and her, a mutual understanding maybe, or some kind of special bond, I don't know. It sure did feel like love sometimes, romantic love, or was at least bordering on it. I already mentioned that she was beautiful on the outside, and she was, but there was something about her just being there near me, beyond the physical, that caused me to have butterflies in my stomach and to suddenly lose my train of thought around her. I had first noticed my feelings for her years ago, probably when I was 7 or 8, and she and I were at a local amusement park together, a place called Garden Park, just the two of us, something that hadn't happened before and never happened again. I guess it was because Evan and Daddy had gone hunting or fishing, can't remember which, with one of Daddy's friends that day. We had gotten there early before there were big lines for anything, and we had dashed around the park trying to hit up all the best rides, and to ride some of them multiple times in a row. On one of the rides, a "log ride," we had to sit in the "log" together. Mom--or Mommy as I called her then, more often than I do these days--had got in first and I had taken her hand to help me in. I sat in front of her and lay back against her chest. I remember how her breasts felt against my back, feeling like big, round pillows almost, except that I thought I could feel her nipples too, poking very lightly into me through my T-shirt. She had reached around and placed her hands on my thighs, on my skin directly, since I had worn a short ruffle skirt that day. Later on the ride, she had moved her hands up to my chest and had leaned forward at one point so that her lips grazed my ear. I remember feeling that funny "butterflies" feeling in my stomach, then, and that continued later that day as we went on other rides and as we shared lunch and later dinner. After dinner that night she and I had decided to hit up a ride that was like one of those ski lifts, called Skylift, that would go all the way to the other side of the park. The sun had set not long before and stars had begun filling the crisp, cool summer air. I had sat there next to Mommy, a few inches away, and had stolen glances at her, at her body, yes, but also up at her face. She would look in my direction in return and about halfway through the ride she scooted over, without a word, until we were thigh to thigh and I could also feel her breasts against arm. She had also brought her hand down again to lay it on my thigh, and this time she caressed me there up and down several times until we were on solid ground again. I had looked up at her, and had seen her smiling down at me, "I love you, sweetheart," she had said then. "I love you too, Mommy." I had then half-turned in order to give her a hug, loving feeling the softness of her breasts against my chest. She and I had shared a few other, similar experiences, over the years since then. There would be times where I would seem to forget, almost, about my love--my romantic feelings--toward her, and I'd treat her just like "Mom." Usually it was at night in my bed when I'd think about her the most, in that "other way." I'd also see her in my dreams sometimes, and in them she'd be disrobing herself in front of me or we'd be on her bed kissing, more or less passionately. I'd wake up with a smile on my lips and dampness between my legs. Partly as a result of realizing how I felt about Mom, I eventually came out as bisexual, or "bi." I had done it not long ago while we were all sitting at the dinner table one evening. I had simply told them, Daddy, Evan and Mom, that I had an announcement to make. They had all turned toward me, looking curious and afraid, and I had said, "I am bisexual." Daddy had glanced at Mom, and Mom had smiled at me. Evan looked confused for a moment and asked, "So you like girls?" "No, I like both," I had explained. "Interesting," he had replied, all of this seeming to blow his little mind. He was cute when he was confused though. I found myself blushing looking at him. "That's wonderful, sweetie," Daddy had remarked, before winking at me. "Thank you for telling us," Mom had said simply, continuing to smile. "That took a lot of courage, for you to tell us like that." "Thanks, Mom," I had replied, blushing even more brightly now. I felt so much closer to them all, having shared that with them. I hadn't known then, of course, how much all our lives would change in the near future, and actually how close we'd all get, or how all of this change would stem from an accidental encounter at home one afternoon while I was at dance practice. Chapter 4: Maggie I lay in the tub for another 10 or 15 minutes after Evan had left my bedroom. I kept seeing him again, in my mind and in my imagination, standing there facing me, nude, his young, fresh-out-of-puberty penis, still mostly hairless, pointing up toward the ceiling, his balls looking heavy below. As I saw him like this, in my mind, I felt a gentle tingling in my vagina. I reached down and touched my outside folds lightly, occasionally brushing against the hood over my clitoris. With my other hand, I fingered one of my nipples, also very delicately, very slowly, adding just a little bit of pressure. Had I liked what I had seen, just then? Yes I had. Why else would I be so interested right now in touching myself in this way? Was I feeling turned on thinking about him, about how my son's growing body had looked in the light streaming in upon him from the bathroom? Perhaps, but I wasn't sure. Did I find the idea of him seeing me like this arousing? Definitely. Was I making sense? Not sure. Is this something I may want to talk to my therapist about tonight? Absolutely. It wasn't the first and only time I had found myself feeling attracted to one of my kids. I had also felt that toward my daughter, Ashley, on a handful of occasions. I had always attributed that, though, to my having simply deepened in my love for her, a love that remained essentially "a mother's love" toward her child. Yes, she was cute, and adorable, and I found myself wanting to touch her and to see her in states of semi-undress. That was all true, yes. But maybe that meant that I was seeing her in a more "real" or "authentic" way, since maybe it just happened to be a fact that she was beautiful. Didn't such things happen sometimes? Sarah, my therapist, thought so. This feeling right now toward my son, Evan, however ... This felt different somehow. I felt as I would feel if I had just seen some big, buff, handsome man slowly stripping naked over me, perhaps while he hugged a pole in some sexy way. I felt something like lust, a deep desire, an intense wanting ... I knew, too, that this wasn't some generic desire toward an "objectively" handsome young man, but this was a desire for him, in the flesh. I wanted to have his cock in my mouth or have it stuffing my pussy. "No," I gasped aloud then, in the tub. I moved my hands away from my crotch and my breast and brought them up toward my face. I pressed them against my cheeks and said, a little more loudly this time, but still in a whisper, "No, I shouldn't." That was it, for now. I got up out of the tub, dried myself off, and headed into my bedroom where I began dressing. I wore jeans and a T-shirt I had bought at Arches National Park last year. Underneath, I wore my lavender-colored bra and panties set from Victoria's Secret. I made my way downstairs and found him--my son, Evan--in the kitchen making a sandwich. He wore some shorts and a T-shirt depicting one of his favorite TV show characters. "Hey, Evan," I said. He turned around to look at me, and his eyes widened a bit for a moment, and he stared into mine for only a second or two before looking elsewhere. In short: he looked nervous. "Hey, uh, Mom," he managed to say. "Why are you making a sandwich?" I asked, gesturing at the counter. "We're going to be having dinner not too long from now." "Oh, uh, right," he stammered, looking discombobulated. "I'll, um, still be hungry later. Don't worry. What are we having?" He looked into my eyes again, but only briefly. "I was thinking stir fry tonight, if that's ok?" He nodded quickly, yes, and then turned back to his sandwich. He glanced back at me though a moment later, and again while I made my way across the kitchen to the living room. There, I sat down at my baby grand piano and began playing something I had memorized. I was a fairly accomplished pianist, having even done the music a few times for Ashley's dance crew. I loved to play classical the most, especially enjoying many of the German Romantics. As I played the instrument, my mind played me: I kept seeing Evan, so shockingly naked, his cock looking so long and hard for his age. I tried to play more intensely on the keyboard, faster and with more feeling, trying to rid myself of the thoughts and images that kept popping up. Just then, the front door opened and in came Ashley, my 12 year old girl. I turned on the piano stool to face her, watching as she dropped her heavy backpack on the floor. She looked really pretty today, wearing another of her short ruffle skirts and a lower-cut blouse up top that served to show off her increasingly larger, fuller breasts. She wore make-up too, dark eye liner, red haze on her cheeks, and dark purple lipstick. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. "Hey, kiddo," I said. "How'd practice go?" She looked over into my eyes, smiled, and answered, "It was really fun, Mom. We are going through our new routine for regionals. Making progress. How have things been here?" Before I could answer, she added, "Aren't you normally at work still? Or heading home?" I nodded. "Yeah, I usually am. Got off early though since the doctors had a big meeting tonight and so we closed the clinic early." I worked as a receptionist at a non-profit clinic nearby. "Cool," Ashley said simply. She smiled at me once more, and looked like she was about to head off to her room when her brother came strolling in. "Oh, hey, sis," he said. His face suddenly grew bright red. I remembered, then, that he must be feeling so embarrassed still from what had happened earlier. He looked really cute when he blushed. The image of him standing there naked again entered my mind, followed by another image: our naked bodies pressed against each other on a bed, our mouths together, our tongues clashing as we kissed. "You okay, Mom?" Ashley asked, peering into my face. I shook my head a little to snap myself out of my reverie. I answered softly, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm going to be making dinner soon, so I, uh, better get to it. Your dad will be home here in a bit." They both went upstairs and I went to the kitchen where I began cooking. Normally I wouldn't be making dinner this early, of course, but since I was able to do it today, why not? Their father, Paul, would be able to come home to a warm meal and a spread table. Just when I had finished spreading that table, Paul came in through the front door. I heard the jangle of his keys as he hung them up on our key rack. "Mmm, smells good!" he called out. A moment later he was in the kitchen. He saw me, smiled, and came in for a hug and a kiss. "How was your day, sweetheart?" I asked. "Oh, it was kind of slow. Only a few jobs to handle and then had to record a training for a new program they're rolling out," Paul explained. He worked in IT for a hospital system. Some days seemed busier than others, that's for sure. "How'd you pass the time?" "Daydreaming," he replied. "I was re-living our camping trip, the last time we went to Redwood Lakes." He cocked his head to the right and squinted, and then added, "We should take a trip soon. The kids' last day of school is what, two weeks away? You think they'd want to go to Redwood? Either that or Garden Park." Garden Park was the amusement park we frequented every year. Once, Ashley and I had gone alone together and had had a really memorable time. "I think so," I answered. "I think that is a great idea, myself." I really did. We had made so many good memories together at Redwood and at Garden Park. I sometimes considered those two places among my "Happy Places," as I had told my therapist the other day. "Ok, maybe we can ask them at dinner." Speaking of dinner, it was ready! I asked Paul if he could get the kids while I spread out the food and put some water in everyone's glasses. A few moments later he came in again trailed by Evan and Ashley. Ashley had apparently showered and then had changed into her pajamas, a pink spaghetti string top that allowed for some cleavage, and loose green pants. Her face was now make-up free. Evan looked as he had earlier. We all sat down and began eating. "How did practice go?" Paul asked Ashley as he took a bite of the rice and stir fry. "Good, Daddy," she said. "We went through our routine for regionals. I'm still figuring out my little routine. It's been a lot of work." "I know you will be so good, honey," Paul said. "You're the best on that team, in my opinion. You're the smartest and the most committed." He paused, then added, "You're also the prettiest." She blushed, smiling at him, and said playfully, "Are you saying that just cause you're my Daddy? Maybe you're biased?" "Oh, I'm biased, but I'm biased and right!" "I think you're right, too," Evan said. He blushed big and averted his eyes from his sister. Later, during dinner, Paul brought up our ideas about going to Redwood and/or Garden Park. He said, "So your mom and I are wondering if you'd like to take a trip together, or maybe two trips. We were thinking Garden Park or Redwood. What do you think?" Both looked at each other. Ashley shrugged and said, "That sounds fun, Daddy. Either is good." "What about you, Evan? What do you want to do?" I asked. "I'm okay with either too. We haven't been to Garden Park in a while though. I'd probably rather go there ..." he explained. "Are you ok with that, sweetie?" Paul asked Ashley. "Sure!" "Alright, then we'll go there," Paul said. He looked over at me and asked, "That ok, sweetie?" "Of course!" I answered. "Maybe we can go to Redwood a weekend after that?" Paul asked. We finished dinner and everyone left, and Paul offered to do the dishes. I told him I'd go to the store to get a few things and then head over to attend my therapy appointment. At the therapy appointment later, I started with some pretty "bland" stuff, how the week had gone generally and how I was coping with any stressors. Then I felt like I should bring up what had happened earlier. "So, Sarah, something happened today ..." I started. Sarah gazed at me with interest, as she always did, her head propped up on her hand at the moment as she leaned in toward me. "Go on," she prompted, with a gesture. "I was taking a bath earlier, and ... Evan came into my room, and I could see him because I had the door open," I explained. "He was ... naked, like, fully naked, and he was ... hard, you know, erect." Sarah nodded and asked, "And how did that make you feel?" "Well, at first I was surprised, or shocked ... but, but then I was kind of, I don't know, `turned on,' maybe," I confessed, suddenly feeling very ashamed or embarrassed. "It's hard to describe, or maybe just say out loud." "So you're feeling ... aroused, by your son?" Sarah asked. She was a cute young woman of maybe 25, a brunette who wore glasses. She was known for being very "sex positive," more so than most other therapists. In fact, she had told me she was into BDSM and that sort of a thing, something she appeared to not be ashamed about. "So it's kind of like with you and Ashley?" she asked. I thought it all over again, to myself, and replied, "Maybe. It feels a little different though, this time. Where it seems more ... emotional, maybe, with Ashley, more affectionate and tender, usually ... it's more, I don't know, raw maybe, with Evan. It's more clearly sexual, or more directly sexual ... There is some definite tenderness there too ..." Sarah nodded. "Yeah, that's interesting ..." "I keep finding myself thinking about him and having all these images ... of us having sex," I explained. "Do you want the thoughts or images to stop?" Sarah asked. "Um, maybe," I said, not sure how to respond. "They are pretty thrilling though. I guess there's the taboo of it." "Hmmm, so do you remember, Maggie, when Paul told you about some of his fetishes, and how you and he decided to do some things like having you wear a diaper when you were going to have sex?" "Of course, how could I ever forget?" I asked, laughing. "What are you saying? Should we do some role playing, where Paul's playing Evan?" Sarah shrugged and said, "You could. What's the harm? It's not like you'd really be doing anything wrong, right?" "Yeah, I guess so ... I'll think it over." Chapter 5: Evan: I woke up randomly one night, not long after the day I had accidentally seen Mom nude in her bathroom. I glanced at the clock, seeing it was 3am. I reached over and turned on the lamp next to my bed, blinked a few times, and then opened the bottom drawer of the little side table on which the lamp sat. I pulled out the bottom of the compartment to reveal my secret writings, my erotic stories. There was a whole stack of notebooks there, likely several hundred pages worth. I pulled one of the notebooks out, a recent one, and flipped through its pages. There, scrawled out in my handwriting, I had written one of my more recent stories, one featuring Ashley. In it, she and I are the last people on Earth because of some nuclear holocaust and we're required to mate so as to begin repopulating the planet. I write in as much detail as I can all about what our first sexual experiences are like, how it feels to stick my penis inside her, what her breasts look like and how they feel ... Speaking of breasts, I couldn't get the sight of Mom's out of my head. Ashley had big breasts, especially for her age, but wow, Mom's were enormous in comparison. And you know what, it wasn't just her breasts that appealed to me; her butt really was very nice, round and bubbly and bouncy, whereas Ashley's was smaller and looked more fit and toned, also nice of course. Mom's face and Ashley's face were actually also very similar in lots of ways; they both had those big, gorgeous blue eyes ... I found myself growing harder and harder as I thought about Mom and as I indulged in some quick fantasies about her. I took the pen and opened to a blank page in the notebook. There, I tried my best to draw what I had seen in the bathtub. With my left hand, I touched and then began rubbing my crotch, pressing my palm against my cock. When I finished the drawing, or what I could manage with it, I stared at it, admiring what I had portrayed. I slid my pajama waistband down, along with that of my briefs, thus freeing my penis. It pointed up at the ceiling. I groped it with my hand and began to massage it, increasingly moving the skin on my shaft up and down. I closed my eyes now and imagined myself on my bed, dressed in Ashley's clothes, wearing one of her skirts. In the scene, however, I wasn't wearing any panties, and my dick was sticking up out of the bottom of the skirt. Then I see Ashley and Mom both come in wearing matching sets of white lingerie, their matching blue eyes glowing into mine seductively. They get on their knees on the bed and Ashley reaches for my cock as Mom pulls down a part of her lingerie so as to expose those huge, milky tits. Ashley leans down and takes my cock into her mouth and begins sucking ... Meanwhile, in the real world, I'm madly jerking now and feeling like I might explode any second. This continues for maybe another minute or two, building in intensity, and then finally it happens. My cock spits out strings of cum, it landing on my bare stomach and chest. After I come down from my orgasmic high, I look down at myself, regretting not using a towel like I normally did while masturbating. "Shit!" I whispered to myself. I looked down at the drawing I had made of Mom in the tub, still feeling "into" her as I had depicted her but now wondering if I should try to avoid fantasizing about her like that again. I mean, she was my mom. Having the hots for a sister is one thing, but for the woman who bore you? That seemed so wrong, so dirty and shameful. I was sick for having done what I just did, wasn't I? I threw my shirt back on and pulled my briefs and pajamas up over my softening, dripping dick. I leaned over and placed the notebooks back into their hiding place and closed the drawer. I got up from the bed, rummaged around in my dresser for some fresh clothes and took them with me out into the hall. I saw a dim, flickering light under Mom and Dad's door, down the hall. I thought that was so strange, that they would be watching TV so late, unless one of them was sick? I made my way carefully down toward that door and as I did so I heard them inside, talking quietly to each other. I pressed my ear against the door and heard the following, bits of it too muffled to make out: " ... hot, baby." Dad's voice. "Mmm, that was pretty amazing. Thank you for indulging me." Mom's voice, followed by a smacking sound that must have been them kissing. "I really enjoyed it, being the kid role this time, honey," Dad said. "I'm so glad you told me." "I'm glad you understand," Mom replied, followed by more of the kissing noises. "You made a good son, sweetie." "And you made a good Mommy, Mommy." There was the sound of kissing again but this time there was also some moaning. Mom was moaning! That didn't last too much longer though. A few minutes later I heard someone using the bathroom, the trickling sound of pee, and then flushing and hand washing. The other person also made a trip to the bathroom, this time turning on the light, it shining brightly beneath the door where I still stood. Another trickle, this one much softer, flush, then a more drawn-out hand washing. "Goodnight, baby," my Dad said a little while later. "I love you." "Love you too," came my Mom's voice. The light under the door went away completely. I made my way back down the hall and went into the bathroom. As I stripped off my clothes, I thought about what I had heard. What did it mean? They had seemed to be saying Dad was playing a "kid" and Mom a "Mommy." And they were kissing or something. Was this some kind of weird "sex play," that I had read about? And did this somehow have something to do with what had happened the other day, when I and Mom had seen each other naked? Was I the "son" in their game? Was she ... thinking about me? Surely not, right ...? So many questions. I continued to run all this through my head as I showered. I had an idea just then: maybe I could tell Ashley about it? I knew it probably was not really my "business"--but did I know that for sure? She was smart and might have some answers. It was worth trying at least.