All characters are 18+ and warning, this is a fictional incest story.
They say a woman’s home should feel like her skin—comfortable, revealing, and quietly powerful. I suppose mine did. The new place still smelt like fresh paint and flat-packed furniture, but it was mine. Two floors up in a tired Victorian terrace, just south of Clapham. Warm light, exposed brick, low windows, and wood that creaked softly beneath bare feet. I’d made it feel like me—flawed, a little loud, and just shy of too much.
It was Saturday, half six, and I’d already set the tone with two fingers of vodka and cranberry in a heavy glass I’d nicked from a hotel in Lisbon. Billie Eilish played low from the kitchen speaker. I was barefoot, skin still warm from a shower, and the mirror near the hallway said I looked decent. The kind of decent that might make someone linger when you passed. My black tank top was cut low—more than a whisper of cleavage showing—and my skirt, pleated and plaid, hugged my hips and flared out mid-thigh. I dressed younger than I should. But who exactly decides what a 36-year-old woman should wear?
The doorbell rang.
I opened it to see Alison first—my twin. Same long dark hair, same grey eyes, but she wore herself differently. Jeans, a soft grey sweater, and a concerned sort of beauty. She looked like someone who checked the weather before leaving the house. Behind her was Darren.
Eighteen. Our brother.
Yeah, I know. The maths is weird.
Mum had him at forty-eight. Dad was fifty-three. Both of them pushing seventy now. She called him a gift. We called him a plot twist. But he was ours, and somehow, he belonged.
Darren was tall now—broad in the shoulders, buzzcut fresh, holding a crate of beers like he was arriving on campus. He smiled when he saw me.
“Nice place,” he said, stepping in behind Alison.
“Nice crate,” I said, nodding to the beer. “Come in, shoes off. No scuffing my clean floors or I’ll cry dramatically.”
Alison laughed. “She will, you know.”
Dave, Alison’s boyfriend, waved from his van across the road before pulling off.
Inside, I led them through. The living room flickered with candlelight and fairy lights strung along the ceiling. My little second-hand sofa sat nestled beside a low table stacked with coasters and takeout menus. There was a lingering smell of lime from the incense I’d forgotten to snuff out.
I poured vodka, no one stopped me. Darren cracked open a beer with that one-handed confidence that seemed too adult for him and slouched into the sofa like it owed him rent.
“Alright, tour first,” I said, handing Alison a glass of soda and nudging Darren with my knee. “Then we drink like people with no regrets.”
The tour wasn’t much—two bedrooms, a kitchen nook, bathroom the size of a shoebox. But I pointed out all the things that mattered: the spot where morning light hit the kitchen tiles, the drawer full of old birthday cards I couldn’t throw away, the slightly tilted picture of Lisbon I hung above the sink.
“And this,” I said, pushing open the balcony door, “is where I stand with my tea and pretend I’m better than everyone.”
Alison smirked. “Still doing that, are you?”
“Only on Thursdays.”
Back in the living room, the night found its rhythm.
It started light—stories, laughter, familiar jabs. Alison teased me about my never-serious exes, I teased her about her ultra-serious current one. Darren laughed along, shoulders shaking as I mimicked Dad’s voice reading aloud from the gas bill. He had a good laugh—genuine, chest-deep, and a little infectious.
“You’ve not changed,” he said to me, raising his bottle.
“You weren’t old enough to remember me changing,” I replied.
He tipped his head, acknowledging the point. “Still,” he said, “you’re different from how I imagined.”
“How’s that?”
“I dunno. You’re… fun.”
“Careful,” I said, smiling. “You’ll ruin my reputation.”
As the vodka ran low, I kicked off my shoes and tucked my feet under me on the sofa, stretching out beside Darren. Alison took the armchair, legs folded, a cushion in her lap.
The music played low. Something dreamy now. Mazzy Star or Lana. Alison was sipping slowly, already pink in the cheeks. Darren had that easy, unhurried look men get when the beer’s gone to their blood but not their heads. I caught him glancing at me a few times. Not in a brotherly way. But then again, maybe I was reading into it. Maybe it was just novelty—us, all grown, all adults now. Nothing was how it used to be.
“So what’s your plan, Daz?” I asked, swirling my glass. “Sixth form, then what? Go off and save the world?”
He shrugged. “Dunno. Might travel. I’ve got mates thinking of going to Berlin. Working bars. Maybe temping.”
“You could come crash with me if you’re ever out this way,” I said without thinking. “This sofa’s half-decent. Just don’t shag anyone on it.”
“Jesus,” Alison muttered, laughing behind her hand.
“What, it’s my new couch if anyone is getting shagged on it it’s me,” I grinned and looked at Darren all boyish and flustered.
Darren grinned at me. “No promises.”
I rolled my eyes. “Men.”
“You invited him,” Alison pointed out, finishing her drink.
“And I stand by it.”
We were quiet for a beat. Comfortable.
Then Darren said, “You two ever play drinking games?”
I looked at Alison.
“Not since uni,” she said.
“I vote we resurrect one,” I said, grinning. “Feeling a bit reckless.”
“What, like Ring of Fire?” Darren asked.
“God no,” Alison groaned. “I don’t want to drink out of a dirty pint glass filled with ketchup and vodka.”
We all laughed.
I leaned forward, eyes dancing between them. “What about something simple?”
“Like what?”
Alison smirked, a little devilish now. “Truth or Dare.”
There it was. That flicker. That pulse.
Something had shifted in the room—just slightly—but enough to notice.
The music played on.
The three of us, cheeks flushed, glasses near empty, and something about to start.
Later that night we was all tipsy and it was Darrens turn.
“Sarah, my lovely sister,” he purred, his voice a thick, honeyed invitation, “truth or dare?” I jutted my chest out, maybe a bit too deliberately, feeling the soft press of my braless nipples against the thin fabric of my top.
“Truth,” I declared. What scandalous secrets could he possibly unearth? I considered my life relatively tame… famous last words, right?
Darren leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that sent a shiver down my spine. “Dish the dirt, sis. What’s the most embarrassing, face-palming, toe-curling… orgasmic thing that’s ever happened to you?” The memory hit me like a jolt of electricity, a flush of mortification and a strange, illicit thrill washing over me.
I inhaled deeply, savoring the way the air filled my lungs and tightened my nipples even further. “Okay, picture this: last year, I was enjoying some ‘me time’ in my room, exploring the landscape between my legs. And, wouldn’t you know it, Dad decided to walk in on me. Just strolled in like he owned the place… which, technically, he does.” Darren’s jaw unhinged, his eyes wide and glazed with a mixture of shock and something disturbingly akin to arousal.
“No way! You’re totally messing with me, right?” he exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly. I covered my face with my hands, feeling the heat rise from my chest all the way to the roots of my hair. “I wish I were! It was a private showing of my journey to self-discovery, and Dad got a front-row seat. The atmosphere at the dinner table was frosty for a solid week after that. We communicated only through strained smiles and the clinking of silverware.”
Just then, Alison, who had been observing the scene with amusement, gasped and locked her gaze onto something south of Darren’s belt buckle. “Whoa, Darren, are you sure you’re not feeling a little… inspired by Sarah’s story?” she teased, her eyes dancing with wicked delight.
Darren’s face erupted in a crimson blush, and he frantically crossed his arms over his chest, his knuckles white. “What the hell are you staring at?” he sputtered, mortified and clearly struggling to contain the sudden arousal that was straining the fabric of his sweatpants. I couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of my brother squirming like a worm on a hot sidewalk, his little soldier standing to attention.
Desperate to deflect, Darren blurted out, “So, what happened when Dad saw… you know? Did he do anything?” I feigned innocence, batting my eyelashes. “What do you mean ‘do’ anything?” Darren shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. “You know, he might be our dad, but he’s still a guy, and you were… experiencing intense pleasure.”
I fought to suppress a grin, the anticipation building within me. “To answer your question, Darren, Dad did the only sensible thing: he froze, like a deer caught in headlights. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he choked out a ‘Sorry!’ and backed out of the room so fast he nearly ripped the door off its hinges.” I paused, letting the air crackle with tension. “But, I think I might have made him a little… hard. If he had made a move, I probably would have let him, I was that horny. Yes, I know it’s wrong, but I was caught up in the moment.”
Darren finally found his voice, a strangled whisper barely audible above the pounding of my own heart. “You… you would have… let him?” His eyes darted around the room, betraying a disturbing mix of disbelief and morbid curiosity. The undercurrent of perversion I’d always sensed in him was now surging to the surface.
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though my skin prickled with a strange awareness. “I was just being honest. You asked for the most embarrassing thing, and honestly, the shame of being caught wasn’t even the worst part. It was the… anticipation. The almost. And the knowledge that my own father had seen me like that. It was a potent mix, a cocktail of guilt and arousal that still makes me tremble.” I could practically feel the heat radiating off his engorged member.
Alison, recovering from her fit of laughter, fixed me with a knowing look. “Okay, Sarah, that’s enough information for a lifetime. Maybe several lifetimes. I need more wine.” She reached for the bottle with trembling hands, her eyes wide with a mixture of fascination and horror.
Darren, however, was still fixated on the image of our father, a man he’d always perceived as the epitome of boring, stumbling upon his daughter in… that compromising position. He seemed paralyzed, his gaze unfocused, lost in a disturbing fantasy. I could almost see the dark thoughts swirling in his mind, corrupting his perception of reality.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “So… did he ever… mention it again?” he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper, the word dripping with unsaid desire.
I shook my head, forcing a smile. “Nope. Never uttered a word. We just pretended it never happened. But,” I added, leaning in closer, my voice a seductive rasp, “I’ve caught him staring a few times since then. Nothing overt, just… lingering glances. Makes me wonder what he’s thinking.” I was playing a dangerous game, feeding Darren’s twisted fascination, but I couldn’t resist the intoxicating power of watching him writhe in his own internal struggle. His straining bulge was becoming more and more prominent.
Just then, a car horn blared outside. Alison peered out the window. “That’s Dave, here to rescue me.” She kissed my cheek, her voice still slightly shaky. “Thanks for the weird and disturbing night, sis. It’s been… enlightening.”
She ruffled Darren’s hair, who was still staring blankly ahead, his mouth slightly agape. “Try not to think about Sarah and Dad too much, okay? You hormonal little perv.” She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Want us to drop you off?”
“N…no, it’s okay. I’ve still got a six-pack to finish.” he stammered, desperate to be alone with the twisted images now playing on repeat in his mind. He needed to relieve the pressure building in his pants, and the thought of his sister and father offered a potent, forbidden fuel for his fantasies.
The door shuts behind as we hear them drive off. I stare at his crotch it looks so hard.
“if you need to get your little fellow out to relieve the preasure,” I chuckled. “She is gone now, not shy of your big sister are you, I have seen 100s of cocks before.”
“Little fellow, cheeky bitch,” he said messing with his crotch. “Also, about the couch, when you said I can’t you know, shag anyone on it.”
My eyes widened at the boldness of his words, a thrill of excitement zipping through me. “Oh, you think you can handle it, huh?” I teased, my voice dripping with seduction. “Well, since Alison’s gone, and Dave’s not around, I suppose we can test out the sofa’s… capabilities. Do you want to shag your big sister on it.”
“Wait… really, you… you want me to shag you on it,” he looked gobsmacked.
“Yes, also dont be mad. When I told you about dad, well… I let him fuck me that day.” His jaw dropped and looked so turned on.
His eyes glazed over with a mixture of shock and lust. “You what? You let Dad… fuck you?”
I nodded, a sly smile playing on my lips. “Yeah, I did. And you know what? It was amazing. He was so gentle, so careful with me… it was like he was making love to me, not just fucking.” Darren’s breath hitched, his hand instinctively reaching down to rub his straining cock through his sweatpants.
He spoke up, “But… but he’s our dad…” as I let out a laugh, a husky, seductive sound.
“Exactly, which made it so hot. The forbidden, the taboo… it all just added to the excitement. And the best part? He never said a word about it after that. Just acted like it never happened.” I stood up, my skirt riding up to reveal the lacy edge of my panties. I laid on the couch and arched my back and took off my panties and laid with my legs open. “So, are you going to fuck me now, or what?”
“Fuck, Sarah,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re… you’re insane,” I smirked, my hips rolling slightly, my pussy lips parting further in invitation.
“Maybe. But I’m not the one with a massive hard-on in his pants, bro.” With shaking hands, Darren reached down and freed his cock from its confines. It sprang up, thick and proud, the head glistening with pre-cum. He stroked it a few times, watching in awe as it pulsed and throbbed in his grip. He got on the couch between my thighs as his cock rest on my mound.
“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” Darren breathed, his fingers trailing through my slick folds. He rubbed the head of his cock against my clit, making me gasp at the sensation. “Are you really just going to let me shag you. You sure you want me to put it inside you.”
I gave a subtle nod, my hips shifting faintly as the tip of his penis playfully grazed my opening. “Yes, I want it. I need it. Just… please be gentle, okay? It’s been a while since I last did this.”
Darren’s eyes darkened with a mix of lust and protectiveness. “I’ll be careful, I promise.” He notched the head of his cock against my slick opening, the pressure building deliciously.
As I reached down, my fingers encircled his thick shaft, gently directing him into position. “Go slowly,” I whispered, my voice trembling with expectation. With a low, quivering breath, Darren started to advance, his body gradually sliding into my receptive warmth, inching deeper with each passing moment. I curved my back, my fingertips pressing into his shoulders as he filled me, expanding me delightfully to accommodate his size.
As Darren’s cock slowly slid into my warm, welcoming depths, I felt my body begin to tremble with anticipation. The sensation of being filled, of being stretched to accommodate his size, was almost too much to bear. I let out a low, husky moan, my hips shifting slightly as he continued to advance, his body sinking deeper into mine with each passing moment.
“Ah, God,” I breathed, my fingers digging deeper into his shoulders. “You’re so big, Darren. So bloody big.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but it was laced with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Couldn’t believe my younger brother had a big cock.
Darren’s face was a picture of concentration, his eyes fixed on mine as he slowly, gently, continued to fill me. His breathing was slow and measured, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm that seemed to match the beating of my own heart.
As he finally reached the hilt, his body pressed flush against mine, I felt a wave of sensation wash over me. It was as if my entire being was alive, thrumming with a mix of pleasure and anticipation. I let out a low, keening moan, my hips shifting slightly as I adjusted to the feeling of being so utterly, completely filled.
“Ummm,” I breathed, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own ragged breathing. “That feels… bloody amazing.” My words were punctuated by a series of low, husky moans, my body trembling with pleasure as Darren slowly began to move, his cock sliding in and out of me with a slow, gentle rhythm.
The sensation was almost too much to bear, my body thrumming with pleasure as Darren continued to move, his cock sliding in and out of me with a slow, measured pace. I felt my climax building, a slow, creeping tide of pleasure that seemed to be rising up from the very depths of my being.
But I didn’t want it to end, not yet. I wanted to savor the sensation, to prolong the feeling of being filled, of being stretched to accommodate Darren’s size. I reached down, my fingers wrapping around his wrists as I pulled him closer, my body arching up to meet his.
“More,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I want more, Darren. I want it harder, faster. I want to feel you, really feel you, deep inside me.” My words were punctuated by a series of low, husky moans, my body trembling with pleasure as Darren slowly began to increase his pace, his cock sliding in and out of me with a slow, building rhythm.
The sensation was almost too much to bear, my body thrumming with pleasure as Darren continued to move, his cock sliding in and out of me with a slow, measured pace. I felt my climax building, a slow, creeping tide of pleasure that seemed to be rising up from the very depths of my being.
But I didn’t want it to end, not yet. I wanted to savor the sensation, to prolong the feeling of being filled, of being stretched to accommodate Darren’s size. I reached down, my fingers wrapping around his arse, pulling him closer as I arched my back, my body meeting his with a series of slow, grinding thrusts.
As we moved together, our bodies pressed flush against each other, I felt a wave of sensation wash over me. It was as if my entire being was alive, thrumming with a mix of pleasure and anticipation. I let out a low, keening moan, my body trembling with pleasure as Darren slowly began to increase his pace, his cock sliding in and out of me with a slow, building rhythm.
The sound of our bodies moving together filled the room, a slow, wet, slapping sound that seemed to match the beating of my own heart. I felt my climax building, a slow, creeping tide of pleasure that seemed to be rising up from the very depths of my being.
But I didn’t want it to end, not yet. I wanted to savor the sensation, to prolong the feeling of being filled, of being stretched to accommodate Darren’s size. I reached down, my fingers wrapping around his arse, pulling him closer as I arched my back, my body meeting his with a series of slow, grinding thrusts.
As we moved together, our bodies pressed flush against each other, I felt a wave of sensation wash over me. It was as if my entire being was alive, thrumming with a mix of pleasure and anticipation. I let out a low, keening moan, my body trembling with pleasure as Darren slowly began to increase his pace, his cock sliding in and out of me with a slow, building rhythm.
The sensation was almost too much to bear, my body thrumming with pleasure as Darren continued to move, his cock sliding in and out of me with a slow, measured pace. I felt my climax building, a slow, creeping tide of pleasure that seemed to be rising up from the very depths of my being.
And then, in a burst of sensation, it happened. My body convulsed, my muscles contracting as I let out a low, husky moan. Darren’s body stiffened, his cock pulsing with a series of slow, rhythmic thrusts as he came, his semen spilling into me with a warm, wet rush.
As we lay there, our bodies pressed flush against each other, I felt a wave of sensation wash over me. It was as if my entire being was alive, thrumming with a mix of pleasure and satisfaction. I let out a low, contented sigh, my body relaxing as Darren slowly withdrew, his cock sliding out of me with a slow, wet sound.
I smiled, my eyes meeting Darren’s as he looked down at me, a mix of satisfaction and wonder on his face. “That was… bloody amazing,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper.
Darren nodded, his face still flushed with pleasure. “Yeah,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our own ragged breathing. “It was. God I have had sex with dad years ago and now my brother.”
He chuckled, “Imagine getting spitroasted by us both.”
As I lay there, basking in the afterglow of our intense encounter, I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Darren’s words. The idea of being spitroasted by both him and our father was a tantalizing one, and I felt a shiver run down my spine at the mere suggestion.
But for now, I was content to simply savor the moment, to bask in the warmth and intimacy of the moment we had just shared. I reached up, my fingers gently brushing against Darren’s cheek, and he leaned into my touch, his eyes closing as he let out a soft sigh.
As we lay there, I couldn’t help but think about the secrets we had just shared. The fact that Darren had been with our father, and now with me, was a revelation that left me reeling. But at the same time, it was also a reminder of the complex web of relationships that bound our family together.
I knew that I had to be careful, that I had to keep this secret hidden from the rest of the world. But as I looked into Darren’s eyes, I knew that I could trust him, that he would never betray my confidence.
“Better not tell anyone about this,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of our own ragged breathing.
Darren nodded, his face still flushed with pleasure. “I won’t,” he whispered back, his voice filled with a mix of sincerity and understanding. “This is our secret, sis. Our little secret.”