Young Incest Confessions Novels & Stories

~Phoebe The image burned behind my eyelids, a jagged shard of memory. Lydia’s legs spread wide on a hard wooden bathroom, my uncle’s face buried between her thighs, her moans swallowed by the sterile silence of hymnals. Gerard’s fingers curled inside me, driving hard, striking that precise, electric spot again. I shattered. My orgasm wasn’t a wave; it was a fucking tsunami. My pussy clenched violently around his invading fingers, gushing in a hot, thick spray that soaked his hand and slicked his wrist. I screamed. A raw, animal sound that tore from my throat, as tears streamed down my face.

As I watched, she came, groaning, and I saw her love dripping off the stool, adding to the puddle on the floor. "Oh, dad. You have to come see this, it's perfect." I moved behind my daughter, letting my erection rest against her back and my hands moved around and held her handful breasts. "Oh fuck, that's nice. But look at what I found." It was that site that has hundreds of subsites, you know the one. Sam had the incest pages open. Stories of siblings, mom, and son, dad and daughter, cousins, uncles. Seemed like the whole world is fucking family. Of course, my cock twitched.

he whispered, grinding his hips slightly against mine. I felt it. Oh God, I felt it. A hard, thick ridge pressing against my belly through his sweatpants. He was hard. My uncle was hard, and he was pressing his erection against me. My brain was in absolute fragments. This was wrong. This was incestuous. This was forbidden. But I was so wet. I was soaking through my panties, the liquid heat pooling between my legs. "Uncle Ryder..." I moaned, the title feeling dirty and erotic on my tongue.

I pumped my fingers in and out of myself, my hips rolling off the hard bench. "It feels so good, Father Edmund," I gasped out, panting as I kept my eyes locked on his shadow through the screen. "I’m fingering myself right in front of you. Come on, tell me I'm going to hell. Tell me I'm a sinner while you listen to me fuck myself like a dirty little whore I am." The booth rattled violently, making me jump. A loud bang echoed through the small space as he slammed his door shut, leaving the confession booth.

My eyes opened to see that my sperm was leaking from both edges of her lips, a few drops falling to that pale tit-flesh below. I gently pulled my slowly diminished penis from my mother's mouth - she gasping suddenly for breath, trying not to cough as a river of my juice escaped from her still open mouth falling to her breasts and to the hard wood floor between us. My first reaction was to apologize, but I knew the best way to gain mother's total acceptance was to carry this evening to the summit of incestuous desire.

Each risky corner of the house, each near-miss, each muffled orgasm while the family moved just out of sight only fed the next time. Mom continued to smile at me with full trust. Rachel continued to believe we were building something like friendship. Aunt Clara continued to watch me with her usual sharp eyes. And somewhere in the middle of all of it, Uncle Frank and I kept finding new places to fuck with the shared, unspoken understanding that the only thing more intense than the sex itself was the knowledge that the entire careful lie could collapse the moment the wrong person opened the wrong door.

We can be friends. The phrase fired me up. I didn’t want to be friends with him. I wanted to be the dirty girl in the photos, and I could take it if only he’d let me. I dropped my backpack on the floor, somehow managing to find the strength of confession. “I have sides to me, too,” I said, then launched into a stream. “I looked in your wardrobe drawer, Julian. I shouldn’t have done it, but I was curious when I was taking one of your shirts out. I saw the pictures, and I saw the toys. I do know those sides of you, and it doesn’t make me want it any less. It makes me want it more. I’m not as innocent as I look. I’m not a baby who doesn’t know what sex, smut, and kink is. I love that stuff. I l

"We're students of St. Tatiana's. We know how to do things with men. We can pleasure you, Daddy. We're such big sluts." "Biggest," cooed Keily, her voice so breathy as she leaned in and licked my ear. "Don't you want to fuck our tight, young cunts?" "Our tighter assholes," purred Riley. It was her turn to lick my ear while she grabbed my cock. "It's incest!" I gasped. "That's so wrong! I can't do that!" "Sure you can, Daddy," Keily said. "Mmm, I know, why don't we give you a little show? Some girly fun to get your blood boiling."

She blew me a kiss. I could feel Victor’s cum slowly dripping from my ass, mixing with the piss still trickling down my legs. Every movement made a soft, obscene sound in my ruined panties. The scent of sex and urine clung to me. I was sure someone would notice, but I kept smiling, kept dancing when my aunt pulled me onto the floor, pretending nothing had just happened while my body throbbed and leaked down my thighs-I had to help myself with some wedding napkins to stop the flow. Under all the shame and disgust, a sick little spark of heat flared every time I felt the evidence of what he’d done,, or rather; what I’d let him do.

“Please, I need to cum.” “Not yet.” His eyes are dark, predatory, nothing like the gentle priest I’ve watched at mass. “You wanted to confess, little lamb. So confess. Tell me everything you’ve done while thinking about me.” “I touched myself.” I’m squirming in his lap, desperate for friction he won’t give me. “Every night after mass.” “How?” His fingers move just slightly inside me, a tease. “Show me what you did.” “I have things. In my bedroom.” My face heats even as my body throbs. “Things I used while thinking about you.”