From This Day Forward

"She's getting married!?" I shot back at Mom when she told me the news. "They've only just started going out."

"I know, I know," she agreed. "It seems sudden but she says she loves him."

To say I was pissed was an understatement. The last few months at home with just my sister and Mom had been nothing short of wonderful and now that was under threat I was feeling especially sorry for myself that things would change.

You see circumstances had conspired to a point where it was assumed by Mom and my sister Bridget that I was gay. I know. That doesn't alone seem like a cause for celebration (not that there's anything wrong with it), but when put into context of the peripheral ramifications, it had been a blessing.

My father had proclaimed 'it' before he decided to leave us and take up with his secretary. In one of his drunken rants, he'd accused my mother of being frigid, my sister of being a slut and me (I guess due to my lack of interest in sport and awkwardness around girls) of being gay.

Mom had been quick to defend us during the ugly scene. Declaring her love for her children no matter their lifestyle even though I knew myself, every one of his assertions had been false.

For starters. Mom definitely wasn't frigid. Just one part of the evidence being, arriving home unexpectedly in the middle of the day months before, I'd found the house quiet. Her car had been in the drive so I knew she was home and walking from living room to kitchen only then heard the noise from the laundry. I called but no one answered and ventured further only to stop before reaching the doorway.

Headphones in her ears explained her lack of response to my call but they weren't what occupied my mother's attention. With the dryer on, even from where I stood the room was welcomingly warm. On the tips of her toes, at first I reasoned she was attempting to climb upon the agitating washing machine but that didn't explain her leggings down mid thigh. With her white cotton panties clinging tightly to her ass, my mother had mounted the corner of the machine and was grinding her groin against the vibrating tub.

In my eighteen years to then I'd never seen anything so bizarrely out of the ordinary nor as overtly sexual. It must only have been seconds I watched; her torso leaning forward to project her ass out towards me all the while keeping what I assumed was her clit on the edge of the white good, her pelvis thrusting back and forth. These were not the actions of a 'frigid' woman.

I don't think I'd ever achieved such a quick erection. A part of me wanting to pull it out. To go to her and aid her satisfaction. To join in on my mother's orgasm when it came. But the sensible part of me told me to get the hell out of there. I'd seen enough already to fuel a thousand masturbation sessions and quietly backed away before my presence was noticed. The perfect crime.

And my sister was certainly not a slut. Only two years between us, we were inseparable as children and thick as thieves as teens. We knew all of the other's secrets and delighted in keeping them from our parents. If she was "sleeping around" as my father had put it, I would've known. My awkwardness with other girls was only matched by hers for boys of her age. Neither of us sharing a kiss with the other sex until we tried it out on each other. For experimentation purposes only of course. We weren't going to admit to each other there was more behind it. Ever.

And me. Well. I was about as gay as a box of hammers. That is to say, not at all. But from the moment my father accused me and left our house, I noticed certain behaviour by my Mom and Bridget change. Without going out of my way to refute my father's assertion, they I think, assumed there to be some truth in the misconception. As days passed we became closer as a unit. They shared more with me and I noticed they weren't as prudent in covering themselves with clothing. Was it them believing I wouldn't be looking at them in a sexual way that they felt less need for modesty? I didn't know. But whatever, I delighted in seeing more boobs in only a bra. In just underwear being worn around the house for longer durations and the odd occasion of my mother with a towel around the waist coming from the shower, breasts exposed as opposed to the traditional wrapping around the bust.

If the only price I paid was being assumed homosexual for the constant near nudity of two beautiful women, (be they family) I was more than willing to comply.

Which brings us to my sisters impending marriage.

She had been seeing the guy for only a couple of months which made a wedding all the more out of the blue and had me wondering if a pregnancy was involved. I put it to my mother subtly but she assured me it wasn't the case. On the contrary, she implied they were in fact saving themselves for the marriage. This caused me to think maybe that was the reason for the haste!

"In a week!" I lamented when Mom told me of the date.

"His family are paying for everything apparently," she went on. "They've booked out a resort in the north of the state."

My mental anguish reflected in my physical state and Mom noticed my slumped shoulders and pouting lip.

"Oh come here Baby," she held out her arms and gestured for me to approach. The action caused her sweater to rise up an inch or so. Just enough to enable a peek of crotch. Her grey leggings tight over the triangular mound of pussy. The very leggings she had worn that fateful day in the laundry. I tried to put it out of my mind as I accepted her embrace but with her arms around me, my own holding firmly on her back, bra strap detectable, the awareness my cock was so close to her was unavoidable.

She's your mother, she's your mother. I told myself, but the months of fantasizing leading up to the contact had me uncontrollably swelling in the most unfortunate region.

"You're going to miss her aren't you?" Mom whispered close to my ear, her breath in my hair before pulling back her head to look me in the eye.

Our groins not touching, if she didn't move she'd be unaware of my problem I reasoned.

"Yeah I guess," I admitted, subtly inching my hips away from her as my cock twitched spontaneously.

"Well I will too!" She confessed. "It'll be a big change for us. No more Mommy sandwiches for one!"

The comment caught me by surprise and bombarded me with nostalgia. Childhood memories of Sunday morning sleep-ins where Bridget and I would climb into Mom's bed and cuddle. Innocently wrapping ourselves around her, front and back in what she laughingly described as a sandwich. An act not repeated for well over a decade and to be brought up now, befuddling.

"Mommy sandwich!" I smiled.

"You don't remember?" She laughed. "You and Bridget used to jump in bed with me and we'd snuggle. So tight!" She added, and as if to emphasize, pulled me closer into her body, wriggling in my arms.

I giggled along with her and for a moment forgot about 'my problem' until it demanded its presence be acknowledged. With her torso to mine she raised a leg and pressed her inner thigh to my side as if to mount me, mimicking the cuddle. A vision of her masturbating with the washing machine came to mind and my cock lost all anonymity, announcing its arousal by poking her in the belly. So sexual had been her initial contact I was actually a little surprised when her demeanour changed dramatically.

The laughing dissolved, replaced by silence and a confused smile. "Oh!" She finally muttered and turning red I grimaced and extracted myself from her hold. For a moment she seemed to be in a battle with her eyes not to look down, but losing, and before I could figure out a way to obscure my erection, her gaze landed on my cock. "OH!" She repeated.

I could've died right there and then. It would've been more preferable than dealing with my embarrassment. Wearing a short t-shirt and loose track pants, there was nowhere for my dick to hide and I quickly turned to head as rapidly from the kitchen as able.

"I just remembered I have to call someone," I lied as I made my way as directly as possible to my room.

"Honey," Mom called as I left and I allowed myself to look back over my shoulder at her, a hand over her mouth clearly covering a silent laugh. "It happens, it's ok!"

My face felt hot from blushing and my shame grew at her mentioning it. "It" didn't just happen! Immature fantasies about her and my sister were just that, fantasy. I'd allowed it to creep into the real world. You didn't just press your dick against your mother! What the hell had I been thinking? Incest only happened in movies and stories on websites.

I slammed the door behind me and leaned back against the wood. My closet mirror faced me and mocked my humiliation by clearly reflecting the tent in my pants. For a moment I was impressed with how it looked, a rigid pole, my full length promoted, my mother now fully knowledgeable of my size. Oh God, the thought of it. I felt sick. I wondered how I could ever face her again?

Unfortunately it would be sooner than expected.

Shortly after and beginning a gaming session, my cock, thankfully returned to its less angry state, I heard my sister yell for me to come into the living room. Having not heard her return home, her voice startled me and my heart raced as I thought of seeing Mom.

Avoiding eye contact with our mother I waited for whatever Bridget had to say before I could slink back to my refuge.

"So it's set," Bridget explained. "Next Saturday at a place called Hidden Valley. You and Mom can drive up together the night before, we've basically booked out the entire resort for the weekend. Nathaniel's parents are totally loaded!"

'Nathaniel' I sniggered to myself. Even his name was douchey I thought. That was probably a bit rough. I'd only met the guy once and he'd come across as kind of ok. But it was all too quick for my liking and I had to say something.

"You've only just stated going out!" I finally spoke up, my feelings conveyed pretty well in my whiny voice I presumed.

Bridget cocked her head and frowned. "Oh baby brother," she sighed genuinely concerned. "Are you going to miss me?"

The remembrance of my mother saying similar words not long before came to mind and I prayed she wouldn't suggest a hug or worse still, a sister sandwich!

"He already confessed as much to me," Mom took it upon herself to answer for me and I glanced across to see her smiling at me. Immediately I felt myself blush and looked back to my sister who spoke again.

"We'll see each other heaps before then. You both have to come dress shopping with me," she began. "My God, can you believe I don't even have a dress yet? Aiden I need you to help me choose, you have great fashion sense."

That was something else I'd noticed since my father declared me gay. My sister asking my opinion on clothing. She must have had it in her mind gay guys have style in their veins. It didn't bother me. Visiting clothing stores as she tried on various outfits and modelled for me wasn't the worst way to spend my free time.

"And you're both coming on my hens night!"

That statement brought me back from my daydream.

"What?" I inquired.

"My hens!" She bluntly replied.

"Me? But isn't that only for the bridesmaids and girls?"

Bridget shook her head and seemed shocked at my question. "Um it's for the brides friends," she explained "And you've been my best friend all my life Aiden, why wouldn't you be there?"

"But don't you get a stripper or something like that?" I proposed.

"Oh and you'd be so upset by that!" She laughed, hinting at my sexuality. "Or maybe you could do it for us!" She quickly added, I assumed in jest. "I know my friends would love that!"

It was another of the fringe benefits of being supposed gay. Bridget's girlfriends were so accommodating of my presence. 'You're so lucky to have a gay brother,' I would often hear. 'We can be so relaxed around you Aiden,' they would say as unladylike seating positions were taken up, panties on display without the lecherous eyes of a 'hetero' guy perving.

"Well I couldn't, I wouldn't..." I tried to voice.

"Relax little brother," Bridget saved me. "I'm only joking. But seriously," she looked at Mom. "Tomorrow we go shopping!"

Mom jumped up excitedly taking her daughter by the hand. "Let's make a list!" She suggested before dragging Bridget back to the kitchen. "Are you coming Aiden, you can help."

I began to feel moody about how much I'd miss having both of them at home and excused myself to my room and the company of my xbox, admiring my sister's ass beside my Mom's as they headed off. I'll miss that perfect peach, I thought and doubted I'd ever see her half naked again.

* * *

Come Sunday I was done pouting. I sat beside my mother as she sipped from a champagne flute in a bridal store. Two of my sister's friends were with us having their bridesmaid dresses fitted and I'd already delighted in catching glimpses of both in their underwear.

Bridget re-emerged from the change room in her third choice of dress and without a lie, it took my breath away.

"Oh Honey," Mom seemed to agree. "That's the one."

She turned for us in the long slinky silk and lace wedding gown, her arms bare, her golden hair pulled up off her neck and I thought she looked like a princess.

"What do you think Aiden, do you like it?" My sister asked me, her eyes piercing my heart.

"Well I'd marry you!" I honestly admitted and drew laughs from the women around me.

Seemingly pleased with my approval, Bridget agreed with Mom it was 'the one' and immediately looked past us to another area of the store. "Ooh lingerie! That's next."

I saw what she chose but regretfully didn't see it modelled. My mother however seemed inspired by the selection of dainty underwear and with me holding her glass, filed through the bras, panties and other lingerie before asking my opinion on some items for herself. Was this how other eighteen year old males were spending their Sunday afternoons? I asked myself as Mom held a red lace bodysuit up against her body and asked, 'yes or no?' We'd not spoken of the erection incident and I wondered if she wasn't trying to coax another out of me as I nodded to everything she tried.

* * *

Bridget wore a plastic tiara and I could see her pink panties up her short denim skirt as she sat on a chair in the middle of the dance floor. A private function, our party were the only patrons in the members area of the nightclub and the twenty women present were making the noise of twice that number. Twenty women and two men I might add. Apart from myself, a fireman approached my blushing sister and began a dance number before her. To the hollers of my sister's friends and a couple of our relations, he proceeded to remove his uniform until he was down to a thong. Now for a moment there I thought things would get uncomfortable. I'd seen porn where a male stripper receives blowjobs from all the women present and looking around, the scene wasn't dissimilar.

Thankfully he remained partially clothed apart from one moment where it seemed he flashed my sister behind a well placed towel but she closed her eyes quickly whilst hysterically laughing. I noticed her eyes divert to me when they again opened but I was sure it meant nothing.

Mom got about as drunk as I'd seen her in years. Pulling me to the dance floor on numerous occasions. Although not drinking myself, it wasn't hard to share her happiness and we even got about as close to a 'Mommy sandwich' as we'd been since childhood when Bridget and I had our arms around her when singing one of our favourite songs.

Come one a.m. everyone was heading home. Being a weeknight there were few people on the street and every footstep and drunken laugh echoed around the parking lot as Mom and Bridget stumbled towards the car. I opened the back door for them to fall in and Bridget stopped, holding onto the doorframe.

"I have to pee!" She proclaimed.

I looked back at the club, the doors to the building fastened shut behind us as the last patrons to leave.

"Why didn't you go in the bar?" I questioned, feeling all of a sudden the only adult in the scene.

"Sorry Dad," my sister giggled sarcastically. "I didn't need to go then."

"Well you'll just have to wait until we get home," I explained. "They've locked up."

"Screw that," she mumbled, pushing herself off the doorframe and walking to the rear of the car. "I'll never make it!"

For a moment I believed she'd keep walking around the back and off down the street to find a convenience but I looked on amazed as she stopped and squatted before me. Her skirt already being extremely short, it didn't take much for it to rise above her hips and before I even debated as to whether I should be watching, she had tugged aside her pink thong and a stream of pee surged forth from her obviously hairless pussy.

Mom's presence had almost gone unnoticed until she brushed past my shoulder to approach my urinating sister.

"Well if she's going, I'm going!" Mom declared, and with her back to me, took hold of the waist of her black wet-look leggings and tugged them down her legs.

Her white ass came into stark view as it dropped lower to the ground and a hiss of urine flowed from between her cheeks.

Was I dreaming?

My sister leaned back on one hand while the other held aside her underwear. Her knees well parted, her stream shot out at least a metre between them, splashing and puddling beside the rear wheel.

She'd put more thought into it. Mom however was having to awkwardly spread her legs wider as she peed to prevent her flow splashing her legs, finally figuring out if she stood up and pushed out her ass, her piss shot out directly behind her, whilst still seemingly unconcerned it displayed her asshole and pussy to her son in all its glory.

I was on the verge of fainting; blood leaving my head to fill my growing cock as I took in my mother and sister pissing before me. My jeans dark and tight, I was secure my hard-on would go unnoticed by my family as surely they'd be disgusted I was finding pleasure in their entirely natural undertaking.

But was it natural? A mother and daughter openly displaying their sex in front of me? Regardless of their view on my sexuality, this was nothing short of primal, obscene yet beautiful all at once.

"Ugh," my sister moaned as her flow decreased and receded back to a dribble. A couple of squirts to fully empty her bladder. "That's better." Her eyes strayed across mine as she stood and a look of satisfaction covered her face.

Mom wiggled her butt to allow the last drops to fall from her pussy as she too concluded her toilet break and with nothing to wipe, pulled her pants back up over her ass. I struggled to stay composed. Did that signify the end? The grand finale to my year or so of incestuous desire. Going out with a bang so to speak of the nudity I'd had hints of and the overt sexuality I secretly desired? If it was, then I couldn't complain. I'd just seen my mother's anus. Her pussy, streaming pee. My sister, with legs spread. A waxed vagina splayed for my perusal, gushing a jet of urine in my direction as if an offering. I could die happy I supposed.

* * *

"Why did they choose a place so far out of town?" I glanced at Mom as I turned into the Hidden Valley resort and down the long tree lined driveway.

"Nathaniel's family own some part of it," Mom explained. "They're really quite wealthy."

We'd met up with Bridget's fiancee a couple of times during the week and although he was taking my sister away from me, I had to admit it was hard to hate him. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy which made it all the more frustrating.

As organized, we texted Bridget when we reached reception and she came to greet us, dealing with our booking for us.