This is the sixth story I've written in tribute to and in the style of one of my favorite erotic authors, Phil Phantom. Although I'm not a huge fan of cuckoldry in general, what enjoyment I do get out of the fetish is probably solely due to Phil. To that end, I realized that if I was going to keep doing these tributes, I probably should do a full-fledged cuckold story sometime. This was the first idea that came to me, and I hope I did it justice. I always enjoy hearing from Phans about how they think I did in these tributes.

The Kind of Girl you Marry - A Phil Phantom Tribute (cuck, cheat, inc, Mf, mF, Ff, mf, gang)


For my fourteenth birthday, I wanted a guitar, so I could impress my girlfriend Julie with my imagined musical skills and maybe convince her to let us lose our virginities together.  What I got was the unwelcome sight of my father fucking the girl I loved.  I don’t know if my musical prowess would have impressed her like I hoped, but she sure seemed impressed with my dad, judging by the way her knees dug into his back as he pistoned his hips towards her, and his dick into her. 

That was just the first unexpected gift, but soon after I also received a lot of information I either should have known long ago, or never ever found out.  It was a traumatic birthday, an eye-opener rivaled only by that very first, when I learned that there was a whole other universe on the outside of Mom’s pussy.   I didn’t actually remember that birthday, but I can only imagine that the sensation of ‘What the fuck?’ was about the same.

That sensation started, on my fourteenth birthday at least, shortly after Mom left to pick up my birthday cake, taking along three boys from the party.   Two to help carry it and one to hold open doors, or that was what she said.  Most of the guys volunteered when she asked, and I knew why.  My friends always told me my Mom was prime MILF material and, although I always pretended to be disgusted and angry when they made those comments, secretly I agreed, she was a fox.  She was a little over thirty, but still claimed to be twenty-nine, and, even though that would mean she was pregnant with me at fourteen, most people believed it.   She had smooth, unblemished skin, and, unlike the moms of my friends, she wasn’t fat at all.  She had a lean body with an athletic build but large breasts, and she often wore tight fitting clothes with a lot of cleavage and no bra.  Sometimes when I was jacking off, imagining my girlfriend finally letting me fuck her, the fantasy would shift to my mom at the last minute and I’d finish to that.  So even though I pretended to rage when people talked about her like that, I thought I understood why they all the guys volunteered to go with her.  I figured they’d be hoping that by tagging along, they might get a peek at her tits if she bent over, and I couldn’t blame them for that.   

Their expectations for the day were already set pretty high.  It was a pool party, and everybody was eager to see my mother in a bikini, but she’d stayed in her normal day clothes so far.  Those clothes wouldn’t be normal to most moms, a tight fitting blue top that showed off both her bosom and her belly button, and matching shorts so short that if she bent over you could see ass cheeks.

I could also understand the sudden cloud of disappointment that settled over everybody after they’d left for cake.  My girlfriend, as the only girl our age at the party, because the latest pretty-boy singing star was in town and virtually all the other girls were trying to get tickets or find a way into his hotel, steadfastly refused to get into a bikini and be leered at by boys.  Julie just wore jeans and a frumpy shirt.  She was still beautiful, with her long blonde hair, shining blue eyes, and winning smile, but with those clothes and her usual posture of arms folded over her developing chest, gave off an unapproachable vibe.   That left my Mom as the only eye candy for all the guys who showed up from my school, and with her gone, there was nothing titillating aside from one family picture of my Aunt Amy in a swimsuit.  Who wouldn’t be disappointed at not being chosen to go with Mom?

I wandered around, trying to make conversation, but I soon realized I didn’t even know most of the kids at my own birthday party very well.   I knew them by name, but we just didn’t have much in common, nor did we talk much in school beyond the essentials.  Most of them were invited in bulk, on hope alone, and I was a little surprised by how many actually showed up.  There must have been something like fifteen guys.   I only had two really good friends, and I couldn’t talk to them, they both went with my mom to get the cake, along with Dennis Kay.   The third boy chosen for the ride-along wasn’t a friend, not even close.  He was the black kid who used to beat me up after school all last year.  This year, he switched to psychological warfare, bringing up at every opportunity how hot my mom was, and how he’d like to fuck her in the ass and then cum on her face, or breed a black little brother for me.  I hated him.  Naturally I didn’t want him included in the party’s bulk invitation list.  I specifically asked to leave him out.   Despite that, he just showed up, and I didn’t want to make an issue out of it and maybe get into a fight I couldn’t win.  He was the same age I was but a head taller and looked like he worked out.

I wasn’t thinking about him much then, I was thinking about Julie.  That’s what first got that ‘What the fuck’ feeling started in me… when I realized I suddenly couldn’t see my girlfriend anywhere, at my own party.  I tried texting her, but she gave no answer, so at first I was worried that she might have gotten a headache.  She got them a lot, particularly when I tried to push her into doing something sexual for the first time, and it would have sucked if a headache had caused her to miss my birthday.   But even with a headache, she still usually answered a text.   Leaving most of the guests outside in the pool, I decided to go and look for her, to see if she was lying down somewhere.

She was, lying on her back with her legs spread, and I found her that way when I finally crept down to the basement. 

I could hear movement, and almost crunching sounds, as I took the first step down, and I guess on some level I must have suspected something, because I did my best to be quiet as I descended, stair-by-stair.  But whatever I might have suspected in my subconscious, my conscious mind reeled when I turned around the corner and saw the two of them, together. 

Julie was naked, buck and bare-ass naked, the first time I’d ever seen her that way, or wearing anything less than a bra on top or shorts on the bottom.  She lay on her back as my equally naked father thrust in and out between her outstretched legs.  I could actually see his huge prick sliding in and out of the pussy lips.  One of my birthday wishes was to finally see her pussy, but not like this… nobody should want to see it that way.

Neither of them seemed to see me, nor were they particularly cautious about trying not to be caught.  They were right there, where anybody could see if they came down the stairs and looked around the corner.  If I had run instead of crept, there was no way they’d have time to even hide what they were doing.  If it were me there, having an illicit fuck, I’d have been constantly looking over my shoulder to make sure nobody was coming.  Neither of them seemed to give a shit, their eyes were only for each other.  My dad was focused on the task at hand, giving her more of his dick and then taking some of it away only to ram it back in.  He didn’t make much noise, so maybe on that level he was being careful.   Julie wasn’t careful.  She was moaning softly with each movement, and it was growing louder… if it kept up like that, people would be able to hear it upstairs. 

I don’t know what kept me from stepping forward and announcing myself.  I guess it turned me on, as strange as that sounds.  Even I didn’t want to accept that, so I told myself I wanted to see the situation, to figure out if my dad was raping Julie or if she was into it, but it was clear my girlfriend loved it right from the moment I saw them.   In between the moans, she wasn’t muttering, “No, no, no,” it was “Yes, yes, more, fuck yes, fuck me harder please.”  But in a situation like that, you tell yourself that maybe she was just faking it to be polite.  Julie was nothing if not polite to my family.  Why, she even said please when asking my Dad to fuck her harder.

Finally, my dad spoke up in his gravelly voice.  “You’re doing real good sweetie, I’m just about there.”

“You want to cum down my throat?” she asked, in a way that was incredibly vulgar and which suggested it was an everyday occurrence.  It turned out that feeling was closer than I’d ever imagined.

“Not today, I’m warm and happy where I am.”

That got a reaction.  “But I told you, it’s the worst time in my cycle.”

“Good.  Every man likes planting his seed in fertile ground.”

My beautiful princess’ voice turned to that pleading tone girls use sometimes.  “No, please, I don’t want to get pregnant.  Please Mr. Paulson?  Pull out and shove it up my ass, I’ll make it real tight for you.”  I never could resist her when she asked me for something in that voice, and so part of me wanted for her to get her wish, and even started to will my dad to pull out and fuck her ass instead, before I realized what I was wishing.

“Sorry, darling, I’ve got my mind made up.  This load’s going up your cunt.  If you get pregnant, so much the better.”

“If you knock me up, how am I going to explain it to George?  We still haven’t done it yet.  He’ll hate me!”

“That’s your problem.  Maybe you can fuck him tonight, make it a birthday present.   I’m sure he’ll believe he was the one to knock you up, even if your womb was already flooded when he finally got in.”  She groaned.  “You like that?  The thought of my cum all in there as a lubricant when you guys have sex for the first time?  I knew you would.  I’ll bet you love the thought of raising my baby and telling him it’s his.  Such a little whore.”

She inhaled sharply.  “Okay, fuck it.  Cum inside me.”

“Only if you make it good for me.  Don’t just lie there.”

I watched as she energetically began to fuck back, showing more passion with my father than she’d ever shown with me.  We kissed, with tongue, but that was about it.  She didn’t even like to do that in public, it was only when we were alone, and even then, when she was in the mood.  My biggest victory was getting her to try phone sex once, recently.  She seemed to be in to it at the time, but later told me she was just faking it for me.  I was almost convinced she was a prude, if not frigid, even though I loved her, but this was no prude, this was a lewd, rude, fucking slut, and fucking my father instead of me.  “Cum in me quick,” she said.  “I want to make sure your sperm gets a good head start at my eggs, I don’t want George’s little guys to have a chance.”

They kept fucking for another minute or so before suddenly, Julie turned her head, and, after a moment in that position, locked eyes with me.  Her hands flew up to her face.  “Oh god, George’s here.”

Hearing that, my dad turned his head back to me, an ear-to-ear grin on his face.  “Oh, hey, son.  How’s the birthday party going?” he asked casually.   He didn’t stop his thrusting… if anything, he picked up in intensity as though to rub salt in the wound he must have known I was feeling.   

Now that I was seen, I finally found my voice.  It wasn’t a very loud voice, but it was more dignified than standing and watching.  “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What’s it look like, kid?  I’m fucking Julie here.  She’s nice.  Not the tightest I’ve had, but real eager to please.”  He reached down and pulled Julie’s hands away from her reddened face.  “Don’t be shy, honey.  He knows you’re a whore now, might as well be proud of it, show him how much you like my dick in you.”

She was still blushing, but at my dad’s instruction, she seemed to get back into the act, fucking instead of just being fucked, practically impaling herself on that dick.

The weirdest thing was I wasn’t mad.  I’d thought I’d be angry at finding my dad fucking my girlfriend.  Instead, I was just very hurt, ashamed, and a little turned on.  I didn’t feel like punching anybody… the only fist I felt like making was around my shaft.  My hard-on was very intense, and very uncomfortable.  I wished I hadn’t been seen, so I wouldn’t have to confront it.  I probably would have snuck back upstairs and pretended it never happened, and just hoped it never did again, but this time, I couldn’t do that.  I had to confront them.  I wasn’t sure I wanted answers, but I felt I had to get them anyway.  “How long has this been going on?”

“Only about a half an hour,” Dad said.  “Or do you mean other than just this time.”  He leaned down and kissed her, brazenly, on the lips, their tongues out and wrestling lewdly in the open, and then Dad drew back.  “Why don’t you tell him?”

Julie gave a grunt of pleasure, and then looked back at me and admitted, “Almost the whole time we’ve been dating,” she said.  “I’m sorry, George, I never wanted you to find out.” 

“Yeah, the first night you brought her home I got her to suck me off,” my father explained proudly.  “You remember?  When your mother needed help with the dishes?  I gave her a little special dessert.”

I remembered.  It was the night I first made a move to kiss her, on her porch after I walked her home, and she didn’t just give me a chaste closed-mouth peck on the side, but met me straight on and opened her mouth for a full French kiss.  I shuddered.  That memory was now ruined forever.

“He just kept coming on to me,” Julie said.  My dad was like that, always flirting with women, complimenting them on their beauty.  He’d done that all during dinner that time, and when he first met Julie, he had her turn around and told her that she had a nice looking ass.  “He kept telling me I had beautiful lips, perfect dick-sucking lips.”  That one I hadn’t remembered, he must have saved that one for when I was out of the room.  “Then he pulled his dick out and pushed my head towards it and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“But you liked it,” my Dad said.  “You swallowed it all, and came back for more the next day.  Wasn’t a week before I was fucking her.”

Now that I was caught, I took a few steps closer, until I was right beside them.  If I wanted to, I could reach out and slap her or rub her pussy, or tongue her clit, even as my Dad fucked her.  I thought about doing that for too long.  What I did instead was just say, “I can’t believe this, Julie.  You told me you were a virgin… why, you’d hardly ever even kissed me!”

“That’s my fault,” said my Dad.  He was still fucking her, although his strokes were slower, less intense, like he wanted to delay the big moment, or maybe just to show off for me.  I had to admit it made a hell of a show.  Dad was much bigger than I was, and seeing that pink membrane wrapped around his shaft, making a tight seal, it looked like she wasn’t willing to let it go.  “You see, I told her she should only kiss you after she’d swallowed a load of cum.”

I shook my head numbly.  “Why would you do such a thing?”

“I have my reasons.  The most important thing to remember is that she did, and she didn’t even take much convincing.  Whatever you thought you had, it wasn’t real, and if it wasn’t real, why should I honor it?  Sorry, son, but you chose a slut, and I can’t resist a slut.  Look at her, she’s on the verge of climax… not from you, from me.”

It was true.  Julie’s face scrunched up and now she was doing most of the work, my Dad had stopped moving, but she was still impaling herself on the dick inside her, trying to get over the hump.  “I’m sorry, George.  He’s right, I am a slut.  I didn’t want you to know.”

“You’d better tell him the rest.”

What followed next was a string of confessions I’d never have expected.  “It’s not just for your dad, although he was my first.  I was a virgin, really, in every hole before I met him.  But he’s not the only one I’ve been with, I’ve fucked your two best friends once a week each for the last month, and have given them more blowjobs than I can count.”  She squealed and spoke rapidly now, barely taking time to breathe.  “Oh, god, I love it so much, I love being a dirty slut, I love cock.  I even like saying it.  I love cock, I love your father’s cock, and nothing makes me happier than being a cock hungry slut connected to a spurting cock.”

“Well, I’ve got one for you,” my dad said.  “Here it cums.”  He thrust forward one last time, and my girlfriend moaned in pleasure.  Her back arched upwards, her head lolled back, and she looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her.  The only problem was I was seeing that look of sexual bliss from the wrong angle, I should have been over top of her, not my Dad.

After some time, my dad pulled out, the head of his cock glistening.  A bubble of pearly white clung to the tip, and he wiped it off on the edge of her labia. “You lie just like that, give it some time to soak in.”

“Yes, Mister Paulson.”  She turned to me.  “Are you mad, George?”

“What do you think?” I snapped.  I still wasn’t, but I felt like I had to act like I was.  “I just found out my girlfriend’s been having sex with my own father!”

“Reach over and grab his crotch,” my dad said.  “Then you’ll find out if he’s mad or not.”

She did, but not before looking and being able to tell what she’d find.  You can’t hide an erection very easily in swim trunks.  You especially can’t hide it when somebody grabs it, as Julie did.  She stroked it up and down, like she was giving me a hand job through the fabric.  It was probably the closest to a sexual act she’d ever initiated on me. 

“See?” my dad said.  “He’s hard.”  I was.  And mortified. 

“He is,” she said in wonder.  “He’s not as big as you are, but he’s hard all right.”  Then her eyes flew up to my face.  “And look, he’s blushing.  That’s so cute.  Does it make you embarrassed that you get turned on by your daddy fucking me before you did?  Or that he’s got a much bigger dick?”  I couldn’t answer, I was so ashamed, and she was still rubbing my erection.  When you’re caught between shame and arousal, there’s not much you can do.  “I really am sorry, George.  Not sorry enough to stop, but sorry.   Are you going to break up with me?  Because I don’t want you to, I really do like you.  And now that you know I’m a slut it’ll be easier, I won’t have to hide so much.   We can go out to the movies and then you can take me home to your dad to fill me with cum.”  With her free hand she’d begun lazily stroking her pussy, getting her finger moist with the mix of Dad’s semen and her own juices.  She brought a finger to her lips, sucked for a moment, but then returned to play.  “I’ll probably even let you fuck me.”  My dick jerked at that.  “Once in a while.  But only if you wear a rubber, that way I can tell my parents I always used a rubber with my boyfriend.   But also because, if I’m going to be pregnant, I want it to be your dad, or maybe your friend Carl, or maybe one of the guys on the football team who does it to me.  I’m sure they’ll let you watch if you promise to be quiet.”  As much as I wanted it not to, my dick jumped again, it was now rock hard.  She stopped rubbing her slit for a moment to pull down the trunks and let my cock fly free, and then went back to stroking it. 

My cock wasn’t small or anything, but compared to my dad’s it looked that way, which mortified me, but at least I was able to stay hard while she kept stroking it.  I looked to my dad, who was watching with only casual interest.  He’d retreated to go down to the fridge we kept in the basement for his beer. 

“Mostly I hope it’s your dad, though.  Then it’ll be your brother or sister, but we’d have to tell everybody it’s yours.  Wouldn’t that be hot?”

“You actually want to get pregnant?”

“I don’t know,” she said.  “I didn’t before, but now I think I do.  That way everybody would know I haven’t been as perfect and chaste as I pretend.  People assume a girl who’s been pregnant puts out, and once I had that reputation, I know I would, all the time.  I think I do want to get pregnant.  Just not by you.”  I felt like crying.  Everything she said seemed like it was designed to hurt me.  I also felt like cumming.  “But I do want to keep dating you, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me.  Do you think you can?  Please?”  It was that voice again, the one I couldn’t resist, the one that made me want to give her everything she asked for.

My dad saved me from answering, I think the answer was going to be yes.  “That’s not a fair question to ask a man when you’ve got his dick in your hands, Julie.  A girl asked me that once and I promised her the world.  In fact, I think it’s time for a father-son chat.  In private.   Get your cute little ass upstairs, now.”

As though she’d been trained to follow my Dad’s orders instantly, she let go of me and sat up.  I wanted to kill my Dad, I was on the edge of cumming, my dick was straight out, but now I’d have to either humiliate myself and jack off or wait for it to go down by itself and suffer blue balls.  I’d already been humiliated enough for one day so I pulled my trunks back up over my dick and tried to look casual.

Julie got up off the floor and started towards the couch where her clothes were.  Beer in hand, my dad intercepted her, blocked her path.  “I didn’t say you could dress.   You’re a slut.  I know it, you know it, and now George knows it.  He was the only one we were hiding this from.  And when sluts in this house aren’t in hiding, they walk around naked, even with cum dripping down their legs.”

My sweet, innocent-seeming girlfriend, hung her head, blushed again, but then turned and walked stark-naked towards the stairs, passing me without a word on her way to a ground floor full of horny teen boys.
My dad put on the only clothes he’d been wearing the whole day, the speedo-style tight swimsuit that my friends made fun of, and then, once Julie had gone upstairs, flopped down on the couch.  “Sit down, George, it’s time you had a chat with the old man.”

“I don’t know if I want to.  How could you do this to me, Dad?”

“To you?” He snorted.  “Son, I did this FOR you.”

“How do you figure that?”

“I know you, son.  You’re a lot like I was at your age.  You’re a romantic at heart.  You believe in true love, and I bet you want to lose your virginity to the girl you’re going to marry.  Well, how would you feel if you did that to Julie and then after you married her you discovered what a slut she really was?”

“You made her into one!”  When I first met her she was so sweet and I would have bet that a dirty word had never passed her lips, much less a dick.

“No, you can’t make someone into something they’re not.  She was a slut, you just didn’t know it.  She might have awoken the first time you fucked her and then gone looking for somebody else to help scratch the itch.   I was saving you from that.  I seduced her and then I told her not to give you any pussy until either I said she could, or you took it by force.  No son of mine is going to lose his virginity to a slut, at least not unless that’s what he wants to do.  If you decide you want to fuck a slut, you can go up those stairs and empty your balls in the girl, but I don’t want you doing it thinking she’s the kind of girl you marry and have a happily-ever-after fairy-tale life with.”

I shook my head.   “You lie, you told her she should fuck me today, since you were going to cum in her, I heard you.”

“George, I knew you were there before she did.  That idea was for your benefit.  I was demonstrating just how much a slut she was.  Look what that girl was willing to do to you.  You like the taste of my cum?  Because every time you had your tongue in her mouth, it was chasing my spunk by no more than a half hour.”

I grimaced at the reminder.  It would be hard to shake that mental image.  For the rest of my life, every time I kissed a girl, I’d have it.  “How could you do that?”

“It was easy, I just bopped the head on her lips, and she let it inside.”

“I mean…”

He interrupted.  “I know what you mean.  The truth is I had to do that, so you wouldn’t suspect.”

That just confused me.  “What?”

“Well, if you kissed her for the first time and her breath didn’t smell like cock, you might think something was unusual.  It’s not as though Julie’s the first slut you brought home.”

My legs grew weak, my heart sank, and I felt like I was going to throw up.  I sat down on the armchair, the piece of basement furniture farthest away from him, and let my head fall into my hands.  “Oh god,” I said.  “Who else?”  A name instantly sprung to mind.  “Kelly, right?”

“Yes, Kelly was one of them, she’s easy to guess because I did wind up getting her pregnant.”  Her mother moved her away to escape the shame of her thirteen-year-old daughter getting knocked up and being unwilling to name the father.  I was dating her at the time, thought she was a virgin, and then came to believe she was the only girlfriend I had who cheated on me. 

But Dad just called her ‘one’, not ‘the other one’.  “Who else?”

“The girl you saw after Kelly but before Julie… what was her name… Meg.”  Kelly’s best friend.  She’d comforted me over how awful it was what Kelly did, and we dated for a few months before we agreed it wasn’t working out.    “She never really was yours in the first place, she was Kelly’s friend and only dated you because of me.   She didn’t want to be a virgin anymore and Kelly’s stories got her all slick between the legs.  Most girls I have to work a little… not much, but a little.  Meg practically jumped on top of me the moment you were out of the room.  Remember how she begged me to give her a ride home?  We stopped for an hour in the alley behind the movie theater.  The ride home was usually my best seduction trick, by the way.  If I didn’t manage to get one of your girls alone while she was visiting, I’d offer her a lift home, rub her leg while I was driving, and by the time I’d pulled off somewhere quiet, I was cupping crotch.  If she wore a skirt, I’d be in her cunts to the knuckle.  By that point, all the girls were willing to do anything I asked.   Meg, though, begged for that ride, and she wore a skirt, no panties.  She’d also written “Hi Mr. Paulson” in Sharpie above her hole, along with a smiley face, and the moment we got in the car, she showed me her work.  I appreciated that, and fingered her to an orgasm while we were still in the garage.  And before Kelly it was… you know, I can’t remember.  To tell the truth son, I think I’ve managed to seduce every girl you’ve ever brought home.  I made a game of it.  I know that sounds awful, but I will not apologize, they were all sluts, and sluts are for fucking, and if I can squeeze some extra fun out of it by doing it behind your back, well, why not?    You remember last weekend when you convinced Julie to try phone sex for the first time?  Bet she moaned really convincingly, but she would, I was fucking her at the time.  That was fun, we both laughed up a storm after you came and hung up.   Oh, and she wasn’t sucking on a lollipop, like she said she was when she first called you up, either.”

“How long has this been going on?”  I hadn’t had that many girlfriends, although I seemed to have better luck than a lot of guys my age.  I was only fourteen.  Getting girls to go out with me never seemed to be my problem, it was keeping them… things just fizzled out somehow. 

“Since you were 10, I guess.  That was… Amy, the little next door neighbor.” 

That was like a big slap in the face… my mind recoiled, not wanting to accept it.  No, not Amy.    Amy was my very best friend for a few years.  She moved away years ago, but I had fond memories of lazy summer days spent playing in the woods or the pool, without a care in the world, her dark hair getting in her eyes, her unselfconscious laughter.   I hoped he was lying… had he really defiled her, too?

He must not have, I decided.  He was winding me up.  He said he’d fucked my girlfriends, and was feeling pressured to prove it, and so he listed every one he knew…  I felt better, stronger, because there was one flaw.  “But she wasn’t my girlfriend.”  Not for lack of trying, but she always insisted we were too close friends and didn’t want to ruin it.  “You’re lying.”  And if he was lying about Amy, he might have been lying about the rest.  Not Julie, of course, and probably not Kelly, but everything else was probably a lie.  It couldn’t be I knew so many sluts. 

That comforting fiction didn’t last long.  “Don’t call your father a liar,” he said.  “Hold up a second.”  He sauntered over to a little nook we used to store family albums, pulled out one I hadn’t seen in years.  He flipped through the pages, found one of a family vacation, one we went camping with Amy’s family, and then pulled at the slot containing one of the pictures, and withdrew not one, but two.  Behind the innocent picture of me and Amy roasting marshmallows by a first, was another picture I’d never seen before.   It had little Amy, on a log, naked, legs spread, with a large and now-familiar dick inside her.  She was tiny, with no breasts or hair on her pussy.  It looked like he was splitting her apart, but her expression was joyful.  Beside her were the same clothes she wore in the marshmallow-roasting picture, neatly folded in a pile.  “See.  I never said every girlfriend you had, I said every girl you’d ever brought home.  Probably not all of them, I guess there were a few girls who came by once and never again, but any girl who’s been here more than once, whether a girlfriend, friend, or study buddy, has been a slut, and I’ve got pictures of most of them to prove it.  Many of them only kept coming here because of me, not you.  And I don’t know if you had any girlfriends you never brought home at all, but if you did, I probably missed them.”  He rubbed the picture in his hand lovingly with one finger.   “Amy was a sweet little thing, I remember her well.   Her father and I shared her, though he’d been doing stuff with her for years before me.   Even so, he was smaller than me… her little snatch was so tight I thought she’d squeeze my dick off when she came.  I know you had a little crush on her, and that’s why I had to act the way I did.  If you fell for her, you would have fallen head over heels for a slut, and she would have pussy-whipped you, never let you get any action and getting her cunt filled with strange cock every chance she get, mark my words.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” I snapped.  “You seem to get off on humiliating me, making sure my girlfriends sleep with you and not me.”

“I do,” he admitted.  “But that’s not the whole story.  Besides, I know a secret about you, one you probably don’t know yourself.  You get off on being humiliated.  The odds were against it, but you really are my son and you inherited my kinks.”

I tried to deny it, but I knew he was right, somehow.  “That makes no sense, you don’t get off on being humiliated.”

“Of course I do.  You see, you and I, we’re in a special place.  We’re what I like to call switch-hitters.  I know people usually mean that to mean guys who are bi, but that’s not what I mean at all.  I mean you’re submissive and you will get off on a more dominant man humiliating you and having sex with your woman, but you also crave dominance and would enjoy doing it to somebody else.  Admit it, you’d love to steal little Julie back, not because you want her, but just because I have her. Well, you probably won’t succeed, a bigger dick is a big trump in his kind of game, but you’re welcome to try.”

I did want to win Julie back, what guy wouldn’t, but that wasn’t the point.  “But how could you do this to me?  How could you do this to Mom?”

He laughed again and shook his head.  “You think she doesn’t know?  “You know what she’s doing now?  Your friends.   Remember why I said I was doing this?  Cause it happened to me.  I said I can’t resist a slut, and your mom is the biggest slut I know.  If she hasn’t drained all three of those boy’s ballsacks by the time she gets home, I’ll buy you a car for your sixteenth birthday.”

He had to be making that one up.  My mom, fucking my friends?  “She wouldn’t.  I don’t believe that.  Mom?”  It was shocking, but so was how hard the thought made me. 

“Let me tell you something about your mom.  We were high school sweethearts.  I was a virgin… I knew she wasn’t, even though she was a couple years younger, but I told her the past doesn’t matter, only love matters, and I was willing to wait until we married.  I fell in love with her the first time she let me touch her pussy… that was all we did, touch each other, but it was enough.  We dated until she was sixteen, and since I was eighteen and didn’t want to wait, I asked her to marry me.  In the state we were in, it was legal for her, as long as she had a parent’s permission, and her dad was willing to give it as long as I promised to not touch her or anybody else before the wedding.  I thought he was being a good father.  Turns out I was the only one who he held to that standard.

“The day we actually wed was the happiest day of my life.  We wrote our own vows, and I didn’t notice that she said nothing about fidelity in hers, just love.  There was good reason for that.  When I gave her my first kiss as a married couple, she had her father’s cum dribbling out of her snatch, and the best man’s cock on her breath.   During the reception, while I danced with my mother, she disappeared and returned just in time for me to take her garter off with my teeth.  I thought she was wet, and she was, but it wasn’t anticipation of the night to come slicking her up, it wasn’t even her juices.  I didn’t know any of this at the time, you understand, I only learned later… much of it I didn’t know until the wedding photographer mixed up and sent his special collection of wedding pictures to my family instead of your mom’s.   Imagine my humiliation, my family breaking the news to me that they’d been sent pictures of my wife fucking dozens of different men, including the reverend who performed the ceremony, most of which had been taken the day of the wedding.   Your uncle Seth, by the way, was the one who told me, but only after he fucked Cindy… I mean, your mother, too.”

I felt a rush of deep sympathy for Dad then, but then it was replaced with anger… not at him, but at myself.  Why should I feel sorry for him?  He’d stolen every girlfriend I ever had, got off on fucking them and laughing about me behind my back.   If something similar had happened to him… that was all the more reason why he SHOULDN’T do that shit to his own son.  He was a horrible person, he deserved it.  I only wished I had a time machine so I could go back and laugh at him while I fucked Mom behind his back.

He was unaware of these complex, confusing, and sometimes contradictory series of emotions going through me and just continued his tale.  “By that point I already knew she hadn’t been entirely faithful.  For fuck’s sake, several  members of the wedding party turned up at the same hotel on the honeymoon with us, which I thought was great, since some of the guys liked golf and your mom didn’t, so I could spent time golfing while she gossiped with the girls, or so I thought.     Turns out none of the guys brought their girlfriends along.   My mistake, I guess, I never thought to ask.  She spent more time in my best man’s room than my own.   Again, my mistake there, I trusted my best friend.  I was completely unsuspecting until rain forced me off the course, so I came back to our room and found her spreading her legs for the bellhop. 

“Some of the story came out then, she pointed out how she vowed to love, but not honor and obey, and definitely not to be faithful, and that therefore I had no reason to be upset, because I had told her that her past didn’t matter.  And if her past was fucking everybody who had the balls to ask her, then it shouldn’t matter, even if it continued into the present or even the future.  Meanwhile, I’d vowed to never be judgmental or cold, so that I if I wanted to talk about upholding vows, I should watch the bellhop fuck her without judging and give her a warm hug afterwards.  So that’s just what I did.

“Believe me, it was hard at first.  I was mortified, especially because I couldn’t help but jack off while I watched.  Your mother’s incredibly sexy, especially when she’s got a big cock making her eyes bug out.  Before I could cum she grabbed my dick and asked me to forgive her, said that she loved me, but she had no intention of being fucked only by me.  I told her I forgave her as the bellhop came, and then again after he went back to his duties.   I decided that I could take a little infidelity.  I hoped she would at least be discreet, but of course that went out the window when the wedding photos showed up.

“We came very close to divorcing those first few months, but the damage had been done, I’d fallen in love with her already, fallen in love with a slut and married her.   The one saving grace was that she wasn’t a hypocritical slut, and that she didn’t much care if I broke my fidelity vow, as long as I kept the other ones.  We became swingers, and I finally learned how to be a man, through trial and error and mostly, competition.  When you were born, it settled down again.  I ordered a paternity test, and it turned out you were mine after all.  I think your mother was disappointed, but I was happy.  Beat the odds.  But I saw you growing up, how your mother treated you, and I knew that you were going the same way I was.  If I let you, you’d fall in love with a slut.  I wanted to give you a chance to fall in love with a respectable girl, the kind of girl you marry.  So I did what I could, seducing any girl who might have possibly gotten you by the cock, and making them mine.  I didn’t want you even seeing pussy until you knew how life worked.” 

I felt a surge of triumph.  He’d treated me badly, but at least one part of his schemes didn’t work out.  “Well, at least you failed there,” I said.  “You remember Karen, who used to babysit for me when I was eight?  I had the biggest crush on her.  Well, she used to suck my dick and let me play with her pussy.”  She was twelve, and it was one of the best experiences of my young life.  Although I was still a virgin, I was happy that I didn’t have to lie to my friends when I told them a girl had sucked me off, even though they all believed I did. 

Instead of being disappointed though, the bastard grinned.  “Oh, that little slut, she never told us about that.  So you got a point, good for you.  But I’m afraid I still got to her first.  That one you can’t blame on me being an asshole, though, I didn’t even know you had a thing for Karen, and the only reason she babysat you in the first place was to get her over here so your mom and I could molest her.  Her parents wouldn’t let her come over here every Friday and Saturday night without a good reason.   So we let her watch you for an hour or two before bedtime while we bought lube or booze or whatever, then came home and treated her like a sex toy for the rest of the night.  I liked her, but your Mom loved her… a more natural pussy-licker I’ve never seen.  This was during one of your mom’s bi-phases.  Cindy’ll be more disappointed that she sucked you than I am, though.”

That made no sense.  “Why?  Was Mom in love with her?”

He laughed.  “Maybe a little, but just sexually.  But the truth is, and you can’t tell your mother I told you this, but… you said I got off on denying you sex.  I do, but if I had my way, I’d have been seducing your girlfriends right in front of you all this time.  I like it much better to fuck a girl right in front of the guy who loves her, with him watching, getting horny, and then giving him sloppy seconds.  My aim was to show you what sluts they were, and if you fucked them too, afterwards, hey, great.  You’d be treating them like a slut, and that’s what I want from you.  Besides, families are supposed to share, just so long as I get the first slice of the pie.  It was really your Mom who wanted me to make sure the girls wouldn’t fuck you, just lead you on and tease you and that we should keep what we were doing a secret.”

No, not Mom too, I prayed.  “Why would she do that?”

“I guess she had some idea that if you got cock-teased enough, you might come crying to Mommy for a little relief.”

I already admitted that I sometimes thought about my mom like that, but I never thought it was possible to actually happen, I never thought people even had sexual thoughts about their kids.  “What?”

“Personally, I went along with it because I hoped you’d stop asking girls if they’d have sex with you and just start fucking them, learn to be a little forceful now, it’d do you a lot of good in the long run.”


“No, not rape, at least no more than a little light rape, but girls like force, many like a little light rape, they want the fun of sex without having to be a slut who gives it up, so they want the man to take it.  That’s the best way to get a girl to fuck you, you just keep taking as long as she keeps submitting.  Don’t listen to all those feminists.  ‘No’ doesn’t always mean ‘No’, ‘No’ is often just foreplay, if a woman really wants you to stop, she’ll fight and scream, but most women don’t really want you to stop if you’re man enough to take what isn’t offered.  The one surefire panty-dropper is to not be the type of guy who waits for her to drop the panties.  You just claim it like it’s your right and plant your flagpole and she’ll be willing to let you plant it any time you want, whether she’s got a boyfriend or not.  Just like with your mom, she could offer at any moment and she knows you’d accept, but she wants you to take it yourself, prove yourself a man who’s not afraid of being a motherfucker.”

It was like I’d suddenly be transported into a parallel universe, one where all the rules I’d been brought up to believe in were wrong.  But what he was saying felt so arousing, my cock was rock hard, even as I tried to deny it.  “No, you’re making this up,” I decided.  “None of this is true, you’re just trying to cover because you got caught cheating with my girlfriend.  I don’t believe Mom knows about this… I certainly don’t think she wants to have sex with me!”

“One easy way to test out, Georgie-boy, call my bluff.  After your friends go home, reach between her legs, grab her cunt, and say, ‘Great party Mom, but the present I really want is right here.’  If she so much as slaps your hand away, I swear I’ll not only buy you a car for your sixteenth birthday, but I’ll vow to stay away from your girlfriends forever.  Or don’t even ask, just bend her over, pull her skirt up and your pants down, and start fucking her.  I guarantee you she won’t move out of the way.  Fuck, even if you did it at the party in front of everybody, I don’t think she’d object, and your friends would all respect you more.  I know I would.”

I shook my head.  “I can’t do that.”  Or could I?  Could I fuck my own mother?  My cock certainly said yes.  It said more than yes, it was saying “Let me at ‘er!” and was struggling to burst through the swimsuit to prove it.  I wasn’t sure I believed that Mom would say yes, but a big part of me… in fact, that particular big part of me wanted to try.  Some part of me wanted to not give her a choice at all, to do it even if she begged me not to.

“It’s up to you, but if not, I’ll still be introducing your girlfriends to my cock the rest of your life.  Now that it’s out in the open, even if you don’t bring them home, I’ll be hunting them down and trying to mount them right in the living room where you can see.  Face it, George, you’re going to be sharing your girlfriends with me.  Your only way to stop that is to bring home that rare beast, the kind of loyal girl every romantic guy wants, the marrying kind of girl who won’t cheat.”

After the severe blow to my expectations this day had given me, I wasn’t sure it was even possible.  Dad went on, though, as though he saw that and wanted to give me a way out, “Although I’m not sure why you’d want one.  To be honest, I think there’s nothing manlier than a man who’s willing to play the game of dominance and be beaten now and then… hell, even if it’s more than now and then.   You know, I’ll respect a man who’s badly cuckolded by his girl, to the point where he doesn’t get any pussy, cause he’s like a boxer who gets into the ring even when he knows he’ll get the shit beaten out of him.   There’s something noble in that.  But if a guy’s so insecure about his abilities that he does his best to choose a girl who would never, ever cheat on him, that’s like being too much of a pussy to even enter the arena.  He might be happier for a while, but it won’t stop somebody else from trying to start a match-up whether he’s ready or not.  The truth is, most girls are sluts if approached in the right way at the right time, and you can’t guard them all the time.  If you even try, you’re a pussy and a coward too afraid of other men to be one yourself.”  He took a breath.   “But that’s your choice to make.   You can be an emotional chicken-shit and watch all your girls like a hawk for the rest of your life, or you can play the game and be beat now and then, and take it good-naturedly, congratulate the guy who gets your girl to cheat, and try to steal a girl from a lesser guy.   If that’s being too much of a man for your tastes, you can still accept my bet, take your chance at being a manly motherfucker, and if your mother shoots you down, I’ll hold to my word and back off.  I can’t promise anybody else will, but I will.”  He downed the rest of his beer and stood up.  “I can see you need time to think, and it’s almost time to order the pizza, so I’m going to go back upstairs and see how Julie’s making out.  Happy Birthday, son.”

Dad got up and left, just like that, and I sat in the poorly-lit basement, numb, trying to process what had just happened but images flashed through my minds, images of my dad fucking the girls that populated my short romantic life, images of my mom being an utter slut.  Sometimes in these vivid mental pictures, I was standing off to the side, watching shamefully and broken hearted, sometimes I was participating, fucking Mom or spit-roasting a girl with Dad.  In all the situations, I had an erection that embarrassed me.  That was the worst part, not that the girls betrayed me, or my parents betrayed me, but that my own body did.  It told me what it wanted, and if what it wanted made my sensitive soul want to cry myself to sleep every night, tough shit, I was going to have to sit there and take it. 

I finally came upstairs, and to an incredible sight.  There was my girlfriend Julie, the girl who still wanted to date me despite what had been happening, naked, being fucked by three guys, including one guy I think was her cousin.  Every hole of hers was filled, and while three dicks plowed them, a circle of others were watching and waiting their turns, boners straining against their swimsuits.  My dad sat on the couch and watched, shouting vulgar directions, like he was directing a porn film. 

Just then, my Mom walked in, her outfit slightly askew, licking her lips, with three grinning boys behind her.  She saw my girlfriend on the ground and her face lit up both in a blush and a smile.  “Oh, my.  ‘Orgy’ wasn’t the party theme I’d expected, but… I’m nothing if not flexible.”  She put the cake on a side table and pulled off her top, to a lot of cheers.  Her perfect, large breasts dangled, and she seemed to be aiming them right at me.  “You don’t mind, do you?”

I shook my head, and then watched as my mother was bent over and allowed her shorts to be stripped off, showing off her puffy but totally shaved pussy lips.  I watched as she grabbed two fourteen year old dicks and jiggled her hands.  I watched as a space opened up at Julie’s pussy, and Mom was pushed there, to dip her face in the sperm-filled hole, and as she shook her head from side to side, tongue buried deep, while Julie screamed in pleasure.   I watched as Dennis, the kid who’d made my life miserable and had almost certainly just fucked my mom, wedged in between two other guys.  In one hand was some icing skimmed off the top of my birthday cake.  He rubbed that on his black dick, and then pointed it at Julie’s mouth.  She licked once to get a taste of the icing, and then took the whole thing into her mouth without hesitation.   I watched that for several minutes, until all of the icing was gone.  I wandered over to the cake to discover the scar Dennis left in the icing obliterated the word birthday.  Even the cake mocked me, now.  It was like it was saying, smugly, “Happy, George?” 

Finally, I could take no more.  “Party’s over, everyone!” I shouted.  “Everybody get out now.”  Everybody froze, except those couple of guys who were almost ready to cum and just couldn’t resist thrusting while they were inside a pussy.  “Out!” I yelled again, filling my voice with as much rage as I could muster.

Dennis looked around at the group, licked a smudge of remaining icing off his fingers, and said, “We could go to my house.  We don’t have a pool, but my folks’ll be out ‘til seven, and I know a few girls we could call.”

People seemed to be all right with that idea, and hurriedly began getting dressed and gathering their things.  Within a few minutes, they were ready to go, Julie among them.  In fact, she hung off Dennis’ arm like he was her boyfriend, not me.   Dennis looked at my Mom, “Coming Mrs. P?”

By this point I was disgusted and was starting up the stairs.  The last thing I heard was Mom answering the question.  “I don’t think so,” she said softly.  “Perhaps another time.”

An hour later, after I’d changed out of my swimsuit and into normal clothes, there was a tentative knock at my door.  I didn’t answer.  My mom came in anyway, looking guilty, shameful, and also fully dressed, or at least, as fully dressed as she was when she left the house that day, but now in a skirt instead of shorts.  “I’m sorry, honey,” she said.  “I got a little carried away.”  I didn’t answer.  She continued, hopefully, “The pizza’s here, if you’re hungry.  And there’s still the cake.”  I said nothing.  Her face fell, and defeated, she added, “Well, if you change your mind.”

She turned her back to me, and I stared at her ass, perfect even under the tight fabric of her skirt.  There was a spot on it, some kind of stain, and I could only imagine was it was from. 

I pulled out of bed and got to my feet.  “Mom,” I said.  She started to turn, and I said, “Don’t turn around, I’d rather not see your face right now.”  She nodded, and faced the exit rigidly, waiting for whatever cruel words I’d had prepared for her.  I came up behind her, then wrapped my arms around her waist, pulled her from the door, and then pushed her head down.  My dick pressed against her leg, she must have felt it. 

She didn’t speak, but began breathing heavily, especially as I unzipped my jeans.  I pulled up her skirt bottom to reveal her naked ass and pussy, and then reached down and grabbed her wet, sloppy cunt.  I knew some of that probably was from my friends, some might be from Dad, but I imagined some was hers, too.  Part of me kept waiting for her to slap my hand away, to earn myself a car and freedom from my Dad’s attentions for all my future girlfriends, but only part.  The body still wanted what it wanted, and it didn’t care.  Then I realized whatever was left of my sensitive soul didn’t want that safety net anymore.  How would I know if they were sluts if Dad didn’t try to seduce them?

It didn’t matter though, because Mom didn’t slap my hand away, so I didn’t ask for any permission.  My dick was hard, my balls were all but blue, and I centered the head at her hole and slid right in.  “Oh, George,” Mom moaned softly.  “I’ve been waiting for this for years.”

I pushed forward, now, finally, no longer a virgin, and I didn’t want to go back to acting one.  “Well, I hope you like it,” I said.  “Cause this is going to be happening a lot more from now on.”  I thrust into her, pushing her up against the door, then retreated and did it again. 

“Oh, yes, fuck Mommy, fuck her good, Mommy really needs your cum,” she cried, and I gave her all I could.  She was incredibly hot, more womanly than any of my girlfriends before.  Pushing into her felt like throwing myself into a miniature tidal wave, facing an intense wall of sexual power that threatened to overwhelm me.

One thing was missing though, one thing to make it better.  “Tell Dad,” I whispered in her ear.  “Tell your husband what I’m doing.”

She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled, then raised her voice as high as she could.  “Honey, your little boy’s a man now.  He’s fucking me, he’s fucking me real good.” 

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.  I half-expected him to come in, admit he was bluffing, and try to kick my ass, but instead he just called through the door, “That’s great, dear.  How is he?”

“Really, really good,” Mom said.  I hoped she wasn’t just being nice because it was my first time.  “I don’t think this is going to be a one-time thing, sorry dear.”

“Didn’t think it would be.  Hey, you guys mind if I dig into the cake?  I know the birthday boy traditionally gets the first slice, but under the circumstances…”

I cared a lot less about things now that I was officially a motherfucker.  “Go ahead,” I said offhandedly, “You’ve had first slice of everything else.”

Mom looked back at me again, and I could see a little sympathy on her face.  “Honey, you should probably sleep on the couch tonight.   I’m taking George to bed with me and I don’t think you’d get much sleep.”

Dad laughed softly through the door.  “Fair enough.  Happy Birthday, George.”

The footsteps retreated, and I fucked my Mom for another couple minutes.  Sometimes, when I was all the way in, she turned her head and we kissed awkwardly, our tongues meeting.  I tried not to think about who’d already cummed there today, but I figured I was already used to the taste, it was too late to start worrying about it now. 

Finally, I filled her with my sperm, the first load of the night, but definitely not the last.  I fucked her four more times that night, and once the next morning.  The second time I fucked her in the living room, right in front of Dad, but all the rest were in the master bedroom.  Most times I came in Mom, but I let that one last morning load out all over Dad’s pillow before I left for school.  It was Dad’s off-season, and when he wasn’t working, he usually enjoyed a mid-morning nap.  Let him sleep in it. 

All in all, even with all the traumatic parts, it turned out to be a pretty good birthday.  We didn’t even get to opening my presents until the next day.  I did, by the way, get the guitar, but I never got around to playing it.  I didn’t really need it.  I’d be getting sex on a regular basis, both from my mother and my girlfriend, even if the latter would make me use a condom.   I didn’t need a gimmick. 

Yes, I decided to keep dating Julie, even after everything she did, even after she promised not to be faithful, even after everyone at school learned, thanks to his repeated demonstrations, especially at school dances, that Dennis could snap his fingers and have her leave my side to service him sexually, and even after she got pregnant with a kid who, unless one of those rubbers had a hole in it, wasn’t mine.  I might even propose to her, one day. 

Don’t act so surprised.  Her little boy or girl will need some kind of a stable father, and don’t a lot of guys want a girl just like Mom?  That’s the kind of girl you marry.

The End

“CAUTION: Exercise caution and good sense before engaging in unsafe sex practices that involve any exchange of body fluid, even contact with open sores or small cuts. Scenes involving large objects, tattoos, bestial sex, body waste ingestion, bindings, devices and gadgets are the stuff of fantasy and are offered to promote the only safe sex there is - masturbation. Before you try anything, find out what the risks and hazards are because they can all be deadly. Read, enjoy, and remember - sex with minors should be left to other minors.” - Phil Phantom

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