Author: excitingowl

[M 18+, F 18+] [caution] [breeding] The ballad of Thomas and Amy

“There is just no way. At least not for another year” The doctors left precious little hope. Come back in a year and maybe, but until then, no way. “Here’s a script for birth control” I was told on my way out the door. After the injury, there was no way I could get pregnant. Too dangerous. Too many risks. As if that wasn’t bad enough, not a week later my husband was caught in a tech lay off. “There is just no way” his manager said before handing him the severance packet. 3 months health insurance, 3 months paycheck. That’s all six years of loyal service had earned us.

In 3 months, we’d be without an income, without healthcare. And all we had to show for it, a script for birth control. And a box of condoms. For, you see, my husband was terrified. Terrified pregnancy would be dangerous. Expensive. How would we afford the doctors? In this economy? So, he doubled down. “Don’t forget to take the pill” he’d tell me every night. “I won’t” I answered. And the few times he was horny enough to fuck me, he’d wrap it up anyway. Read more »

[mF] [incest] I saw your reddit profile before I called you

Sometimes, people are born in the wrong place. It’s not their fault. And yet they are. Some accept their fate, some find their way out, and yet they all try to belong. That was what my mom had done her entire life. Tried to belong. She did not belong in small town Texas. The religion, the purity gospel, the hypocrisy, none of it was for her. And yet when she got pregnant at a young age, she got caught in it. Shotgun wedding and all. She married my dad, gave birth to me. And she did not belong. Just like she had not belonged before.

My dad was young, and a good man, but he didn’t understand. He didn’t have the words for it, so slowly but surely instead of getting closer, they drifted apart. By the time I was 3, they barely spoke to each other. Six months later, she left. She went “to the store” one afternoon and never came back. I remember crying, getting ice cream, and little else. I learnt not to ask. My dad became quiet, introverted, a loner. As if the weight of that failure was too heavy on his heart. How could he let his own wife leave? I was too young to understand, and nobody spoke much to me over the years. I could only piece together a few pieces of the puzzle. I couldn’t even remember “mom” had a name, much less what she looked like. Read more »

[stepcest] [drugs] Section 18 (Part 3)

I noticed that the sun had started to set, and the room was getting colder. I asked Mr. Furlong if he minded me turning on the heater. He told me to go ahead.

I knew I had barely scratched the surface of the last 10 years of Eric’s life, or at least the parts of it we shared, and I wondered at what point the investigator would either invite himself over for dinner or ask to continue the interview the following day. So far, he seemed unfazed by the time things were taking.

With Alan out of the picture, getting dope was getting harder. I knew some folks in Denver but it was no fun, so we were using a bit less. Which made us restless. And made us look for distraction elsewhere. Those months were when Eric learnt sex. He was rough, let me tell you. Very rough. But he had a secret fire inside of him. And he was eager to learn. And I was eager to teach. Read more »

[stepcest] [drugs] Section 18 (Part 2)

So, Mr. Furlong, where was I? Oh yes the first night Eric and I made out. It’s been a while, you know? Do you need some more water?

Jack Furlong shook his head, and hinted at me to continue my story. So I did

Well, after that night, things got a little bit funny. We did our best to play the part. Eric tried to push things a bit a couple times. But he was so naive and clumsy. He didn’t know how to woo a girl. So I just told him “not tonight” and he got the hint. We were perfect step relatives around our parents. And then at night he’d try to get to me, but I’d push him away. He was too straightforward. Finally, a week in, he had had enough. He came to my room after everyone had fallen asleep. He told me he missed the dope and he missed me. I had a party tomorrow night. My friend Amy had a get together at her house. My dealer would be there too. “I’ll take you” I told him, “but you better behave. And no making out. No touching. Nothing inappropriate. I am into this dude who’s there. He gives me dope too, so if you want any, you better chill, alright”? Read more »

[stepcest] [drugs] Section 18 (Part 1)

In the United States of America, everyone who seeks to learn the Government’s secrets must fill a Standard Form 86 and submit to a deep background check. Your friends are interviewed, your family members quizzed about you, your past becomes a matter of National Security and is researched accordingly.

Form 86 takes hours to complete and leaves no stone unturned. Section 18 of the form asks about your family members. Names, citizenship status. how often you reach out to them, how you contact them, you name it, the form asks about it.

When the federal investigator knocked at the door and told me my stepbrother applied for a government job and he needs to talk to me about his application, I blushed. I know Eric very well. We have been stepsiblings for over 10 years now. He had casually mentioned to me somebody might come and ask. Be honest or lie, he didn’t say. He could not advise me on what to tell a federal investigator, he said. What he wrote on the form at the “Provide methods of contact” field, he also did not say. Read more »

[M/F] [inc] [mast] “if only he hadn’t been my dad”

They say creative writing is a great way to work through grief and regret. I feel both. Grief. And regret. I lost my father six months ago. He was still young, or at least young enough that it didn’t have to end this way. But the disease just would not listen. Statistics, common sense, averages, none of it mattered in the end. He was gone in the blink of an eye. It took a year from diagnosis to end. Not all days were bad.

At the time, I was an aspiring model, working with an agency, featured in local shows and ads. After he died, real life called. I ended up working at Starbucks. I don’t hate it. Not all days are bad.

That’s the grief part. I attend a support group in town once a week. Last month, the topic of regret came up. Things we wish we had done differently. Things left unsaid. Unexplored. My dad and I had one. A very very unusual one. For, you see, my dad was into me. He was attracted to me. To put it bluntly, he wanted to fuck me. I know because once the disease got him, he lost enough of his inhibitions to tell me. Or at least to hint at it.
I was showing him pictures from my latest show, and he whispered “if only you weren’t my daughter”
I chuckled awkwardly, swiped away from the photos on my phone, and asked him if he needed anything else before I went home. Read more »

[inc] [mast] My stepmother’s moans

When I went to bed that evening, I had not realized I was going to wake up a different man. It is often the case that change knocks at our doors when we least expect it, and we don’t see it coming until it’s looking straight at us, telling us it’s time to move on.

That’s what it was like for me. One uneventful evening, I went to bed. The next morning, the sun rose on a new me.

When she had moved in, a few weeks back, well, I am not blind. I could tell a beautiful woman when I saw one. But it’s not one of those thoughts one dwells upon too much. I was naive. I knew what a woman was, I knew that I liked women and wanted them in that special way. I knew how to use my hand to fulfill those urges. But had I ever been with a real woman? No. And surely my stepmother would be way too intimidating to even think about in those terms. A beautiful woman, yes. Of the same beauty of a statue in a museum. Ethereal, unreachable, abstract. Read more »

[MF] [nc] [caution] The restaurant downstairs

*I would like to thank a beautiful and sweet (and definitely very kinky ;-) redditress for inspiring this fantasy and playing along with a few of my filthy thoughts along the way*

I live in San Francisco, on the beautiful west coast of California. The weather is generally mild, and my apartment windows overlook the ocean. Yes it can get a bit noisy at times, with me living above a restaurant, but I never thought too much of it. I’m young, I enjoy going out and having fun, and I am often out till late. The noise never bothered me. And I never thought it would change my life.

It was a Saturday evening like many. Except I stayed home. For some reason, I didn’t feel like getting ready and going out. So I stayed home. I cooked a nice meal. And one thing leading to another, I ended up on my bed. My legs spread. A vibrator gently teasing my clit.
I am hard to please as a woman, or so I thought before that night. It always takes me a while to warm up, I need to build up the tension, I need to feel the wetness soaking the sheets before I’m ready for penetration. So I kept teasing myself. High speed. Low speed. A bit too intense. Then not intense enough. Then too intense. I bit my lip and let out a sigh. The torture was bliss. Read more »

[MF] [inc] [mast] Aaron and Jael (Part I)

“No, Jael” he screamed as he kept pointing at the results on his laptop. “You don’t understand. We’re half siblings”. I had never seen him this worked up over anything. Not that I had known Aaron all that long. Just six months. And a lifetime apparently.

We met on Tinder, like thousands of others do every day and night in the hustle and bustle of New York City. I liked his smile, I liked his cheesy profile jokes, and I liked that he was Jewish, like me. I always grew up thinking I’d meet a nice Jewish boy and have nice Jewish kids. And even though most of my Tinder escapades resulted in nothing more than disappointing drunken sex, I thought Aaron might be different. He felt oddly comforting, familiar even if unknown. Oh how little did I know!

We chatted for a bit, and then took our chances with COVID in a recovering city, and went out for a drink. I liked him. He liked me. We texted obsessively. For hours every day. And then we met up again. His place. He cooked dinner. We fucked. Read more »

[inc] [piss] [breed] [drugs] My daughter’s OnlyFans (Part IV and last)

There’s something I didn’t know, father. I didn’t know it then. But I know it now. And it is my downfall. I promise I don’t have too much longer. I already took a lot of your time. But I am on the verge of losing everything I hold dear.
“Please just let me continue”, I implored the priest. I needed to unload my burden. I couldn’t hold it any longer. And I couldn’t think of anywhere else to unload it but a church, no voice could give me forgiveness but God’s. No man was powerful and merciful enough to listen to my story and still love the mess that I was, the disaster that I had unleashed.

After that night, my daughter and I met again. Multiple times. Maybe three times a week. She’d jerk me off. She’d let me cum in her hand, on her mouth, on her tits. Sometimes she’d let me watch her own pleasure. Listen to her moans. Her talk ever so aggressive, explicit, dirty. She’d talk of having my babies. She’d talk of letting me cum inside her raw. “I am not on the pill” she’d tell me as my cock thrust eagerly in her hand. It’s like she wanted to tempt me. It’s like she wanted me to just take her. “I am so wet and juicy” she’d remind me as I was about to cum. Like cumming in her hand was a sad sad second prize, and if I only had the courage, I could claim the most beautiful of all trophies: my daughter’s wet juicy fertile vagina. Read more »