Caught by a blizzard, a family finds pantyhose incest

They were both in their pantyhose, still holding each other as she awoke.

She looked at him in the dim morning light. Christmas morning. How could she have ever imagined it would be like this? Even a few days ago, she never saw it coming.

She felt so safe and warm and good in bed, his body against hers as they spooned. She felt something hard press against her. She knew what it was, of course. It had been inside her quite a bit recently, after all. She could still feel his seed inside her. He’d gotten quite adept at tearing a narrow hole in her hose, and then fucking her through them. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t the only one that had gotten good at that. And she wasn’t the only one that had gotten good at receiving cock that way.

But for the moment, there was simply him. She turned around, and facing him cupped her hand and stroked his nylon encased balls with one hand. With the other, she stroked his morning wood even harder through the material.

His eyes fluttered. He wasn’t fully awake, but it was as though his cock pulled the rest of his body. He rolled on top of her.

“That’s it, baby. Fucking do it again. You know what I want.”

He did. Even half asleep he knew, because he needed it too.

He freed his dick from his pantyhose, pulling down the front of his waistband. She wrapped her own nylon clad legs around his ass.

“That’s it. Put it in my pussy. I need an early morning Christmas gift.” He pushed his cock inside her wet slit, and she breathed in sharply. “Tell me how much you need this, baby.”

“I need it so much,” he said. “I need to keep fucking Mommy’s pussy.

***

December 22

“They upped the accumulation totals again,” Jessica Hollings said as she checked her iPhone.

Her brother was driving them along the winding road leading to their parents’ house. Pewter colored clouds blanketed the afternoon sky ahead of the coming storm. “How much now?” Chad asked.

Three days ago, the nor’easter was still being projected to head out to sea. Now its track had shifted hard inland, and weathermen were starting to call it the storm of the decade.

“Over two feet in the city.”

“It’ll be worse out here,” he said. “Best Christmas vacation ever.”

They were both college students, albeit attending schools on different sides of the country. They’d timed it so they’d both arrive at JFK at the same time, then take a car up to deepest, darkest upstate together.

“It’ll be nice to have a white Christmas.”

“Assuming mom and dad are speaking to one another.”

“They’ll play nice around us, if nothing else. Besides, I’m kind of looking forward to being isolated from the outside world for a little while,” Jessica said.

“Why’s that? I’d have thought a freshman would be chomping at the bit to get back to the party.”

“I’m sick of partying.”

“You must have had a crazy first semester then,” Chad said with a smile.

He’d meant it as a polite joke, and Jess understood that. But he was more right than he knew.

It wasn’t that the first semester had been crazy, but that she had been, pursuing with reckless abandon all those supposed rights of passage that college–far more than the academics–is about these days: the campus party scene, getting drunk, having sex. With Jessica, those first two led inevitably to the last one.

Perhaps it was inevitable being on her own and having grown up on CW shows and old Sex and the City reruns. She was a biology major, and wondered now if those shows’ messages weren’t similar to viruses. If so, they’d infected her because she now saw how unconsciously she’d followed their script.

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