Barbara knocked at the door of forty-seven Acacia Avenue and breathed a sigh of relief. With only an overnight suitcase for the whole weekend in tow, she leaned through the car window and paid the taxi fare. By the time she had turned to face the front door her mother was beaming at her, arms outstretched waiting for that hug. Her father stood behind waiting his turn.

The hug seemed to go on for ages.

“I can hardly get close to you with the size of this bump,” her mother, Lucy, exclaimed.

“two months to go, I can’t wait,” she told them.

“Come on in, you’ll catch your death out here in this cold weather.”

Barbara was ushered inside, her father, Peter, gave her a fleeting but loving kiss on her cheek, a quick hug, and scampered up the stairs with her bag to place it in the spare room where she’d be staying for the weekend; her old room, though it had changed a lot since she left.

Her mother grilled her on the state of her marriage to Bryan, who, over the last eight or so months had been acting like a prick towards her. It started just before the time she got pregnant. It was as if the act of wanting a child and then getting pregnant had changed their whole life together. Who would have thought that would have happened?

“He’s just the same,” Barbara told her mother. “To be honest, I’m glad I’m here for the weekend, I can relax and enjoy myself without wondering how he’s going to behave next.”

“Do you know,” Barbara raised her finger and pointed towards her mother, “he’s hardly touched me since I got pregnant and more recently, he’s making excuses that sex will hurt the baby. How fucking ridiculous is that.”

Lucy pursed her lips and reached out to push a lock of her daughter’s hair behind her ear. “Just relax, darling, you can do whatever you want here. Are you hungry?”

“I’m famished,” came the reply.

“We’ve made a quick pasta bake, your favourite. Come and eat.”

Over dinner the conversation became more heated, the more Bryan crept into the conversation between the three of them, until Barbara had decided that enough was enough and that his name should be banned for the next couple of days. After retiring to the lounge, and with the usual trashy television soaps blaring out, they started talking about the baby.

The grilling Barbara got about the baby’s name fell on stony ground. She wasn’t about to spill the beans on that score until it was born. The more the evening progressed, the more relaxed Barbara became until she had cuddled into the side of her mother with her feet up on the sofa. She had almost fallen asleep in that relaxed position; her heart beating slower than it had been for some time.

Looking up at the mother, it dawned on her that she hadn’t asked about them since she got there.

“How are you two?” She blurted out.

“We’re good,” both of them seemed to answer at the same time.

At nine o’clock, Peter rose from his chair and declared that he was going for a shower and then to bed. The television programmes were uninspiring and he had had enough of the trash they watched.

With her head in her mother’s lap, Barbara followed his movements until he left the room. A big sigh left her lungs only to be followed by a huge intake of air and a second, even larger sigh. Her mother was stroking her hair as she lay there.

“I suppose you’re feeling frustrated by that husband of yours, or should I say his inactions.”

“You can say that again,” Barbara replied. “I don’t know, I can’t see a future for us anymore.”

The conversation twisted and turned for a while until Barbara rested, her eyes once more closed.

“Go on, why don’t you go and enjoy yourself.”

Barbara’s eyes opened, and she twisted her head to look at her mum.

“Go on,” her mother reinforced, motioning with her head towards the door and with a smile on her face.

Barbara got up from her reclined position and swivelled her legs onto the floor.

“Are you sure?”

Lucy nodded, “go, go on,” she winked at her.

Barbara stood up. Walked to the door and paused at the exit. Looking back towards her mother she smiled, and then her heart started racing, she started taking shallow, quicker breaths, and her whole body rejoiced at the thoughts parading naked around in her head. With one last smile, she headed towards the stairs.

Hot mist hit her in the face by the time she pushed the bathroom door open. She stood in the open doorway watching her fifty-five-year-old father soap his body. Lashings of water cascaded down on top of him.

She started to unbutton her blouse. Taking her time to pop one button after the other in a slow-motion strip tease that no one but herself could see. The glass wall of the shower cubicle was misted up and after she discarded the blouse, she unclipped her bra and let her heavy breasts dangle but only as far as her bulge. She couldn’t help but pinch both her nipples in an act that caused pleasure pulses to stream down her body and collect in the pool of tingling flesh that was her pussy. Her skirt hit the floor closely followed by her oversized panties.

Her hands roamed over the taught bulge in her stomach that announced its presence with a loud ‘I’m here!’ She could see her father reach for the shower head, move it upwards and direct it over his head. Barbara rested her hands on her pregnant bulge and stood at the walk-in entrance.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked.

Her father turned to face her but said nothing. He admired her bulge. The tight skin was tantamount to her blossoming body. He looked into her radiant eyes as she stepped inside. The first light spray of water bounced off her father’s head and onto her face and breasts. The closer she got the wetter she became until he reached out to place his arms around her shoulder and spin her so that the hot water crashed down over her body.

“Your mum’s right, you know. This bump is getting in the way.”

The comment dragged a wry smile from her lips as she snuggled into her dad. She turned around to let the water splash onto her head and face, reached behind her to grasp her father’s hands and brought them onto her breasts. Breasts that were growing by the second, or so it seemed.

She felt wanted. Needed. Loved. She needed to feel loved in so many ways.

Peter caressed them gently before rolling her nipples in the palm of his hand. An act she relished, since they first fucked when she was seventeen. At thirty-five years old Barbara liked it even more than she had back then.

A kiss landed on the nape of her neck and with only a brief adjustment to the expanding appendage between her legs, she aimed it between her legs before closing them tight. Her father’s cock nestled there for some time, aching to push onwards and feel his daughter’s hot pussy engulf it, warm it, soak it with her juices.

The last time they fucked was over seven months ago. He didn’t count the blowjob that she gave him when they met a month ago at her marital home. That was a quickie that not even her mother knew about, an opportunistic moment when her husband, Bryan, popped out to the shops to get a couple of bottles of wine, taking Lucy with him, or was it Lucy’s plan all along? Anyway, the bump could hardly be seen by then and Barbara was as raunchy as she had always been and just as desperate to get fed her father’s cock.

For some reason ‘the hots’ she felt for her father had never waned, and there was no sign of them waning either.

Barbara slipped one of her legs to the side, allowing her father’s cock to slip along her pussy lips, though the time she could see it blossom in front of her was well and truly gone. All she could see now was the bulge. Her hands felt it though, and her fingers smoothed over its bulbous head before it was gone again.

She looked behind her, a sincere pleading met her father’s eyes and then both of her hands came upon the tiled wall, she bent as far as she could and in no time at all felt his stiff cock enter her warm and welcoming cunt. Her loud moan was music to Peter’s ears. It always had been.

Her explicit use of the English language found her father fucking her cunt faster and faster with his hands on her waist steadying her body, her feet slipping further and further apart as the rutting became more intense. Her breasts dangled heavily, swaying from side to side as the water pounded onto her back. She desperately wanted to pinch her nipples but her stability was more important.

A figure in the doorway smiled. Her mother stood naked watching them fuck. It wasn’t the first time she had done that. The first time was when Barbara came home unannounced one evening and caught her parents fucking on the sofa. She was supposed to have been at a sleepover with some friends but she walked in on them and saw her mother dressed in her school uniform, fucking her father on the sofa.

To say that Barbara was shocked was an understatement. There came no explanation, just stony silence until she scooted off to bed. The following morning, the atmosphere was just as icy.

Something happened to Barbara that night. Something strange and worrying at the time, but she soon got over it. She couldn’t get the sight of her mother having sex while dressed in her school uniform out of her head. The more she thought about it the more she seemed to like it. Then the filthy, lascivious thoughts started pounding inside her head. They wouldn’t go away, and so she acted on them.

The conversation was only just beginning to get back to normal for them, and it was perhaps a week later that she donned her school uniform herself, grabbed the spare that she had from the wardrobe and marched downstairs where her parents were watching a late-night film. Barbara threw the clothes towards her mother and insisted she put them on. Her parents exchanged glances, not sure where this train of thought was going. After complying with her daughter’s wishes they both stood in front of their father.

“You have a choice,” Barbara stared at her dad. “Obviously, schoolgirls are your thing, so you can fuck me first or you can fuck her first,” she said pointing at her mother.

Her father’s mouth dropped open.

“I suggest me first,” Barbara added, “because I’m not wearing any knickers,” and to prove the point she pulled her short skirt up to reveal her glistening smooth snatch.

Something came over Peter that evening too. He didn’t even wait to hear what his wife had to say about it. After all, she had complied with his daughter’s wishes by putting on the school uniform. He unzipped his trousers lifted his bum off the sofa and peeled his jeans down and over his knees, leaving them pool on the floor. It didn’t take long for his cock to swell and poke upright.

Barbara wasted no time in straddling him and rubbing herself on his rapidly expanding cock, before lifting herself off and letting him slide right into her wet cunt. Her mother looked on in bemused amazement, but she removed her knickers anyway and started to stroke her pussy before sliding her fingers in, masturbating to the sounds of her daughter’s moans and groans.

Their climax was quick and as soon as Barbara climbed off her dad, Lucy climbed on for instant gratification; the quickest she had cum in a long, long, time. Lucy always considered that night as a wonderful change for the better in their family dynamics.

Once more though, the figure in the doorway slid her fingers into her wet cunt as her husband filled her daughter’s pussy with his cock. Lucy loved hearing her daughter moan and groan, she loved hearing her climax, and all those filthy words she used just proved to her how alike they were.

Peter fucked his daughter relishing in the sounds she was making. He found it difficult holding back, just as difficult as it was seven months ago when she last visited, but at that time, he didn’t know that his daughter was trying for a baby.

His cock swept in and out of her cunt as his spunk surged in his balls, ready for that quick escape into his daughter’s waiting cunt. He thought he had at least a good few strokes left, and wasn’t prepared for the finger that inserted into his ass. The finger of his wife, standing behind him pushed it in further and further as he ploughed his daughter’s pussy.

Her orgasm broke first. She swore profusely, as she was known to do, whenever her father fucked her. Her legs nearly gave way, buckling under the force of pleasure that swept through her body. Spunk rose quickly through Peter’s shaft, and he held his cock tight in her pussy, filling her up, letting it all escape inside her.

In a sense, he was lucky it wasn’t the strap-on. They had only bought that a few years ago when Barbara had visited because her husband was away on business. As it happened, so was her father and so she quickly purchased the item in the hope that her mother wouldn’t say no to giving her the cock she needed. Little did Barbara know that her mother had already used it on her father since then.

For most of the twenty years Barbara had fucked her father, her mum was happy to sit back and masturbate while watching her daughter go at it, hammer and tongs. There was little mother-daughter interaction until that fateful weekend when sex was high on the agenda and disappointment, even higher. In a sense, it was a sign from God himself that they should enjoy each other’s bodies too.

Slowly, Peter pulled his wilting dick from Barbara’s pussy, and stepped behind his wife who reached under her daughter to help her straighten up.

With the water pouring over both of them, they kissed. It was the first time he had seen them kiss. The first time he had seen his wife touch his daughter’s breast, lifting it to her mouth and sucking in the nipple that stood to attention. It was the first time he had been party to them touching and caressing each other.

It was an impossible task to stop looking at the way they loved each other, and when the water stopped flowing the towels only added to the sexual excitement through the drying process.

Barbara left the shower room first and headed off to bed, but not her own. It was too early for that. Peter and Lucy followed her to their bedroom, pausing to kiss in the hallway. When Lucy caught her daughter up, she was lying on the bed with her legs open, stroking her slit just below where the bulge expanded.

Peter was in for a treat as his wife crawled onto the bed and planted her face between his daughter’s thighs. While she licked, he watched, and his cock reacted almost instantly to the renewed moans and groans coming from his daughter. The sight of them together urged him onwards and he couldn’t help himself when his cock entered his wife’s cunt and pushed all the way home.

He kept staring at his daughter’s bulge and she caught his eye over the top of her mother’s bottom that poked high into the air. His hand reached out as he leaned forward, touching the bulge as his daughter humped her mother’s face. Her hand rested tentatively on the back of her mother’s head as her face was pushed forward into her pussy.

Unspoken words seemed to form in the air between their locked eyes.

“Do you think it’s mine?” her father had to ask Barbara the question, as it had been playing on his mind for quite some time.

“I don’t know, quite possibly,” she uttered between breaths. “The spunk mum’s eating is definitely yours though,” she added.

Peter fucked Lucy bringing her to an orgasm that seemed to be intravenously injected into her. It sounded like the same one that his daughter was having while holding her mother’s head in a vice-like grip. As Barbara came, she quickly lifted a tit to her mouth and sucked on her nipple, intensifying the pleasure four-fold.

Peter held himself in check. His cock was still stiff and erect and waiting for that moment when he could sit on the bed with his daughter lowering herself on top of him. He wanted to feel the bulge bounce on his cock. He wouldn’t have to wait too long, but in the intervening moments, Peter and Lucy both snuggled up to their daughter in their bed, cupped a breast each and were soon sucking on her nipples while stroking the bulge.

The bulge jerked.

“He’s going to be a footballer,” her father commented.

Barbara closed her eyes, sighed and hoped that the baby was his.