A guy orchestrates a break-in to fuck his mom and sister

Sitting back down on the couch between them, I pushed play on the movie and wrapped my arms around them, encouraging them to snuggle close. Feeling the smoothness of their skin under my fingers was arousing in its own right. Rheta had lain her head on my shoulder; the aromas of strawberries, peaches and coconuts that wafted from her hair was mouth-watering. Its silkiness was teasing my cheek with every micromovement she made. For her part, Mom sat straighter, but had her fingers running along my legs, tracing patterns with her nails. The sharp sensations contrasted well with Rheta’s soft hair and set goosebumps up and down my leg in her finger’s wake.

It was just getting to the part of the movie where Tim Allen starts to become Santa when there was a knock on the door. I was happy that Mom and Rhe had jumped as well as I at the sudden sound. Knowing what was on the other side of the door, my heart started to beat a little faster as my anticipation grew exponentially. Taking a hidden, calming breath, I stood to go answer the door. When I felt Rheta tug on my hand, I gave her a smile and said, “It’s probably just some carollers; I’ll be back in a minute.” Bringing her hand that still held mine to my lips, I gave it a kiss like you see gentlemen do in movies set in the 1800s. “Don’t go anywhere, and keep my spot warm.” And with a wink, I was gone before she or Mom could offer any more resistance. Walking to the door, I opened it and in a clear voice asked, “Hello, can I help you?”


The man was carrying the bag I’d left the supplies in earlier. Turning to look at me, I noticed his ski mask and tinted goggles that obscured his identity. Catching movement at the side of my eye, I barely had time to register the second man before he punched me in the gut and brought me to my knees with an ‘Oomph’ as the wind escaped my lungs. Feeling my arm being forced behind my back, I found myself being marched into the living room as I coughed to try and regain my breath.

“Henry, what’s wron-OH MY GOD!” Mom shrieked as I entered the room.

“Ah-ah-ah,” the man who wasn’t holding me said, causing Mom and Rheta to both fall silent and still. I felt the cold steel of a gun being pressed to my head as an ominous click let me know that the hammer was just an inch away from firing a bullet into my brain. “Let’s not lose our heads now,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ve no intention of harming you, but we will if you don’t behave and do what we say.”

“We’ll give you whatever you want, just please, don’t hurt my son,” Mom said with panicked worry all over her face.

“All we want is a place to lay low for a few hours while the cops get too ahead of us to realize where we are.” Removing the gun from my head, he pointed it at Rheta. As soon as I saw that, I tried to rush him, but the guy holding me put more pressure on my arm, while the one with the gun put the barrel under my chin. “Behaving means no heroics. I will shoot you if there’s anymore funny business. Understand?” I nodded to show my compliance. “Good,” he said, as he once again pointed the gun at Rheta.

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