Controlled Deviance

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This is a follow-up to “The Calm Before the Calm” published in Incest/Taboo 1/4/2020. It helps to read that one, though not vital to enjoying what follows.

So now what?

That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question among Glenn, Amber and Kelly Horvath as they stand in the kitchen, sipping their Zinfandel. Their revelations have just come to the fore. Amber is having an affair with son Brody and Glenn is having an affair with daughter Kelly. What they’ve embarked on makes Peyton Place look like a place of virtue. “We’re just your average American family,” Amber jokes.

“Right,” Kelly says. “Just your average American family.” She shakes her head and laughs. “You know, before this began, I actually said that to this guy I’m dating. The thing is, I meant every word. Now what?”

“You add a caveat,” Glenn says. “We’re just your average American INCESTUOUS family.”

“Red zoners, right dad? I can just see Eric’s face trying to explain that one.”

“Maybe it’ll float his boat.”

“I don’t think so. He’s hardly the type.” She pauses. “Then again, besides us and the Martins, I don’t know anyone else who is.”

“Speaking about floating boats,” Amber says, “maybe we should think about how long our boats are going to stay afloat.” She can see by their confused expressions that Glenn and Kelly don’t fully get what she’s trying to say. “What I mean is, how long are you two going to carry on? As for me—and I think for Brody as well—that experience was too fantastic not to return for an encore, perhaps several encores.”

Glenn and Kelly trade grins and nod. Then Kelly says, “Mom, my whole body is still on fire from what we did in my room today. I’m hardly ready to call it quits.”

“No argument here,” Glenn says, sweeping a hand over his crotch.

Amber takes a sip of wine and chuckles. “Ohmygod, I can’t believe what this family is getting into. We’re a family of…dare I say it…perverts.”

“Deviants, Amber, deviants,” Glenn corrects her. “Look at it that way. Also, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Nobody outside this household, plus Brody, of course, has to know.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Kelly says, “I wouldn’t tell a sole, least of all Eric Conway, the guy I’m now seeing.”

Amber agrees. “Needless to say, Glenn. My friends would be horrified, not to mention my eighty-year-old mom who’d no doubt drop dead from a stroke or heart attack. But there’s another thing. When you two go to Vegas, to reuse your metaphor, please be discreet. Brody’s got his own place, so there’s no privacy issues with us as there might be with you and Kelly.”

Kelly grins. “Don’t worry, mom, we won’t force you to watch. Of course, if you’d like to…” She lifts her maroon sweat shirt, the one she hastily threw on, sans bra, when Amber returned home unexpected.

Amber glances at her daughter’s perky boobs. “Thanks for the eyeful,” she says, her tone tinged with sarcasm. “But you really didn’t have to.”

Kelly drops her garment. Then she says, “Dad got an eyeful AND a mouthful. And he thoroughly enjoyed what he saw, licked and tasted. Right dad?”

Bashfully, Glenn grins while patting his sweating bald pate with his hanky. “What can I say?”

“Just say you’ll be discreet,” Amber says. “Watching this stuff on Family Relations XXX is one thing. Watching my own husband and daughter? Well, I’m not sure I could do that.”


Discreet is the byword the family adopts to carry on what THEY even think is outrageously naughty behavior—outrageously naughty but oh so exciting and too damn pleasurable to stop. Amber and her son Brody meet over Brody’s apartment. Kelly still lives at home, so she and her dad Glenn check with Amber first to avoid a repeat of last time. Kelly jokes about “coordinating” their trysts by sticking their schedules on the fridge the way “normal” families post normal activities like soccer games or dance lessons.

Kelly’s got a busy life. She’s a full time college student, dating another full time college student. She’s got a web-based cosmetics business and bowls in a league on weekends. She’s got an irreverent sense of humor, making up outrageous things she might say to the unsuspecting. ‘Oh, and by the way, in addition to my school, bowling and cosmetics business, I also make time to hop into bed with my dad.’ She laughs to herself, picturing Eric Conway’s reaction. He’d no doubt take it as a joke, a terrible joke, though he might fake a laugh just to go along.

Girls, it’s sometimes said, look for mates that remind them of their dads. In personality, Eric does. Like Glenn, he’s passive-aggressive, shies away from confrontation until pushed to the limit, and then goes full steam ahead, throwing caution to the wind. Glenn showed that side of himself when a bullying Jim Martin showed up at his door. In looks, it’s a different story. Where Glenn is bald and average in height, Eric Conway stands just under six feet, sports a full head of hair (of course, he’s still in his twenties) poker oyna and is blessed with an athleticism that Glenn never had. “My jock boyfriend, but deeply sensitive,” is the way Kelly describes him.

‘Pretty and smart and sexy’ is the way many guys would describe Kelly. She’s got light brown hair, long and straight, blue eyes and off-white skin that tans easy. She smiles easy and often, and it’s a wonder that some dentist hasn’t yet snagged her to appear in a dental ad, touting his/her skill in keeping their patients’ teeth straight and gleaming. On hot days, she’ll wear skimpy outfits; typically, a short halter, showing her flat belly, and cutoff jeans hemmed to the top of her full, luscious thighs. Many dads with daughters with Kelly’s assets would look, but not touch. And said daughters might appreciate their dad’s attention, so long as it didn’t get too creepy. However, the buck would stop there. Like their dads, they’d keep a “respectable” distance.

Not so with Kelly and her dad Glenn, not since that day when Kelly caught Glenn watching incest porn, touching himself as he did, which exploded in Kelly something primal and irresistible—both for dad-daughter incest porn and the desire to act it out. “It waylaid me, no pun intended,” she’s said. Interestingly, she’s yet to have sex with Eric. They’ve been out just a few times, and she wants to “get to know him better.” She’s well aware of how weird that sounds, holding off from intimacy with Eric, yet comfortable enough to sleep with an older man, her dad of all people.

The family rule of discretion is strictly obeyed—Kelly and Glenn won’t even touch each other unless Amber is away. And today, on this Saturday afternoon, Amber’s taking laps around Mount Pleasant Reservoir with her power walking group. Meanwhile, a horny Kelly is prancing around the house wearing an over-sized T-shirt that drops to the middle of her thighs, no bra and red thong panties, doing her best to distract Glenn from watching the Philadelphia Phillies play the New York Mets. He’s on the living room sofa, parked in front of the forty-inch, flat screen TV, watching a game that doesn’t mean much, for both teams are out of the playoffs. Being a true baseball fan, he watches anyway, purely for the love of the game. His passion for the so-called national pastime, however, can’t compete for the passion he feels for his daughter, the sexy, seductive Kelly, strolling back and forth between the living room and kitchen, shaking her adorable booty and filling the air with her lovely, feminine scent.

Finally, Kelly stops her prancing and plops down next to him, crossing her legs. “Dad, it might be time for the seventh inning stretch.” Reaching out, she feels something between his legs under the fabric of his gym shorts. “Ohmygod, literally, from what I’m feeling here!”

He runs his fingers along her smooth thighs. “I thought I could hold out until the ninth inning. But I can see that won’t be happening.”

“Not if I can help it, it won’t!” With that confident pronouncement, she straddles her hot self on his lap, and the two begin to smooch.

The game stays on, this game of languid rhythms, an unlikely background source to the unlikely thing that’s happening on the sofa. The sexy college girl is grinding her loins against her dad’s rising appendage, while dad lifts her T-shirt and tongues her deliciously perky boobs, smelling and tasting her fruity-scented, translucent skin as he does. It’s when Kelly pulls down his shorts, drops to her knees and begins to performs oral, that he realizes that a change in venue is in order. “Mom knows what we’re doing,” he says, “but I doubt she’ll appreciate the sofa getting all stained up. Let’s continue in your bedroom.”

Kelly hops to her feet, throws off her T-shirt, then follows Glenn down the hall. Kelly’s room is bathed in a soft and fuzzy pink décor. Stuffed animals lay scattered on the bed. Nostalgic leftovers from the innocence of her childhood, they stand in stark contrast to what’s about to take place. She watches as Glenn steps out of his shorts and blue Hanes briefs, leaving them lying on the thick white carpet. She reaches out and strokes his full erection. “Geeze, dad, how could you sit there watching baseball with that fat thing throbbing between your legs?”

“It wasn’t easy,” he says. “Better it throbs somewhere else, huh?”

“Yes, and we both know where.” She slips a finger under her thong, drags it across her pussy, then sticks it into her mouth for a quick lick. “You really should taste this,” she says. “You didn’t do it last time.” She places the stuffed animals on the floor, peels off her thong, then stretches out on her back and spreads her beautiful legs. She then welcomes Glenn’s eager entrance between them. “Ooo, yes…love it, love it, love it…”

Ditto for Glenn. He’s enjoying what he didn’t get to last time, loving, if not relieved, that her pussy tastes and smells the way it should when a man does this, sweet at best, neutral at worst, devoid of canlı poker oyna the spoiled fish scent that too often is endemic to the organ. Unbeknownst to Glenn, Kelly douched less than an hour ago.

She had informed him that she’s on birth control, so she can skip that bit of valuable information she gives suitors her own age. She hasn’t had many suitors—one could count them on one hand and still have a couple left over—which isn’t even close to what she’d need in order to qualify as a floozy. Irony of ironies, she’s somewhat selective when it comes to guys she chooses to sleep with, keeping her legs closed to guys like Eric until she’s ready, yet ready and willing to open them to half the source of her DNA, her own dad. And open them she does, wider, now that Glenn’s finished with oral and lays atop his daughter’s lovely form. Carefully, she guides his “fat thing” to where at this moment they both wish it to be.

Glenn’s not a guy given to superlatives, so when he tells her that what they’re doing is “electrifying,” he means it, every syllable of it.

She can only nod in agreement, lost as she is in the sensation of feeling her co-creator throbbing inside her, rattling her brain, sending laser beam-like spears of pleasure shooting through her. Electrifying indeed. He’s kissing as well as humping, and she’s kissing him back, and she’s thinking, as well as she can think doing this, that this is parent-offspring love on a different level, aberrant and offbeat to put it mildly, perverted and vulgar many would say. Fucking exciting, she’d say, but doesn’t, preferring to express her pleasure in sounds not found in the copious pages of Merriam-Webster. Good thing she’s doing this in a single home rather than in an apartment or semi-detached abode, because those in earshot might be inclined to call the police after hearing her shriek with her climax. Glenn, like most men, confine his noises to low grunts and/or soft ahs, not something that would pierce walls of any decent thickness.

Their timing is near perfect, for after a brief cuddle, they hear Amber pull up. Quickly, they dress, with Amber adding a pair of shorts to her pre-coitus skimpy attire. Then she joins Glenn in front of the TV to catch the last half-inning of the game.

Moments later, Amber enters wearing her walking shorts and cross-trainers. “I can’t believe it, my Kelly’s watching baseball. Will wonders never cease?” She knows that Kelly isn’t much of a baseball fan.

Kelly and Glenn trade grins, sly and devilish, which gives Amber pause. “You know,” she says, “I get the feeling that you two didn’t just watch baseball while I was away.” Hands on hips, she glares at them like a parent who knows her kid’s been up to mischief, the way a second-rate actress would in a bad sitcom, corny more than comical. Amber’s severe expression is one of mock anger. After all, she’s into this red zone thing as much as they. “Come on, guys, fess up.”

Finally, Glenn says, “Per our agreement, we were discreet. How was your walk?”

“Not as exciting as what you did here, I’m sure. Makes me horny for Brody.”

“Makes ME horny for Brody,” Kelly blurts out. Glenn and Amber stare at her curiously. Then: “Well, yeah. I mean, sex with my own bro sounds like something I might be interested in. What do you think, mom?”

Amber shakes her head, then takes a seat on the edge of the sofa, just as the last batter in the game strikes out. “What do I think? I think this thing might be spinning out of control, spreading like those wildfires in California. Next, you’ll be proposing a pussy to pussy powwow with me.”

Kelly gives Amber the once-over, sliding her tongue over her lips. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

Amber winces. “See what I mean?”

Glenn throws out a bemused chuckle. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but not too long ago, we were a normal family.” He forms the familiar quotation sign with his fingers. “Maybe we should go back to that.”

Kelly scowls in a fit of bemused pique “Are you kidding me?! After that ‘electrifying—’ your word— experience?”

“She’s got a point, Glenn. The genie, so to speak, is out of the bottle. Electrifying would be an adjective I’d use to describe my experience with Brody. And by the way, there are no NORMAL families. Besides the Martins, I’m sure you’d find closet activity behind the closed doors of everyone around here.”

Kelly can’t stop thinking about what Amber said earlier. “Mom, just for the record, I’m not a lesbian. So a pussy to pussy powwow would be like, really pushing the envelope. Like, you know, one of those outrageous proposals that are so outrageous, you can’t resist.”

Amber leans over and rubs her eyes. “Oh my, on and on this goes, and where it will stop, God only knows.”

Glenn raises his arm. “Let’s keep the Almighty out of this, Amber, least he flings down a bolt of lightning upon our house.”

Kelly folds her hands together in mock prayer and rolls her eyes. “Forgive us father, for we have sinned.”

“Yes, internet casino and it appears that we’ll go on sinning,” Amber opines. “I see no end in sight.”


They leave it at that, a consensus that what they’re doing will continue for the immediate future. For Amber, what had been no more than a glib remark, is turning into something to consider. Maybe it wasn’t so glib after all. Why else would she have brought it up? A pussy to pussy powwow. Kelly sure seems interested. It amazes Amber how unpredictable one’s sexual appetite can be, how it can change and evolve into things never thought possible, never thought, period. Family Relations XXX triggered Amber’s lust for her son Brody. More accurate, the site gave that lust a push into reality, lust that had lay simmering before then, not unlike a volcano ready to blow. But lust for her daughter Kelly? Perplexing to say the least. Sure, from time to time, Amber thought what it might be like to get intimate with another woman. The thought intrigued her at best; it was never something she ever pursued.

Not on her own, that is.

She never told her family about Wendy Tucker, her bi-sexual college dormmate. One rainy afternoon, Wendy got Amber to step outside her sexual comfort zone. Nothing too heavy. Some kissing, a little boob licking. That experience confused Amber, made her wonder if she wasn’t also bi, because she enjoyed it—or at least the sensation of it. Emotionally, it didn’t sit well, and she refused Wendy’s subsequent advances.

She now laughs at her reticence then to go further. She’s been intimate with her own son and up next might be her own daughter. She thinks back to her line to Kelly: will wonders ever cease? For Amber, a mom-daughter thing might be another wonder too many. Getting it on with her son is enough deviant action for one life. Thus, she consigns this outrageous idea to the back burner of her mind, has every intention of keeping it there. That is, until she walks by Kelly’s open bedroom door and catches her surfing Family Relations XXX. No big deal, they all watch it now, except that Kelly’s on the mom-daughter part.

Kelly swivels in her desk chair. “Mom, this mom-daughter stuff is really hot. Come in and take a look.”

Amber can’t deny the erotic rush she’s getting at the site of Kelly sitting in front of her desktop in bra and panties watching porn. She steps inside and peers over Kelly’s shoulder. Then Kelly says, “There’s your pussy to pussy powwow, mom. Hot stuff, huh?”

“Yes, I’d say so,” Amber concedes, almost mesmerized by the site of a naked mom and daughter (probably not real but hot just the same) doing things that shove her back burner fantasies to the fore. They continue to watch, Amber standing, leaning over Kelly’s shoulder; and Kelly, watching one video, then going to another, surfing for the one she finds the hottest. She asks Kelly if she’s ever performed oral on a girl.

Kelly shakes her head no, but admits she’s willing to try it. Looking up into Amber’s face, Kelly says, “Anytime you’re ready, mom.” She shoves a hand up Amber’s short blue skirt, then runs it along the back of her thigh. “Are you game? I mean, how could you not be watching this stuff?”

Amber gives this some serious thought. She knows that Glenn won’t be home for a couple hours. She’s watching “this stuff” while getting wetter by the minute and standing behind her hot, sexy millennial daughter who’s eager to cross into an area of the red zone that neither of them had ever been. To cross or not to cross…

Stepping directly behind her, Amber begins to massage Kelly’s shoulders. One wades, not dives, into something like this, and Amber figures a shoulder massage is a good place to start. “Feel good?”

“It does feel good. Keep going, mom.”

The video now playing is one that Amber would bet is the real deal—grainy film, minimal sound and devoid of the orchestrated situations you typically see in most of these so-called “real” incest videos. Not only is there a strong physical resemblance, but the women hold up ID cards to prove authenticity. Then they get down to business, first peeling off their already skimpy attire, then making out on a sofa in what appears to be someone’s living room.

Amber sees Kelly squirming in her seat while shoving a hand inside her panties, and follows up with self-stimulation of her own. With one hand, she uses her long, manicured fingers to massage her boobs over the thin material of her low-cut blouse. Her other hand continues to work over Kelly’s shoulders. Moments later, she frees her hands to part strands of Kelly’s long hair, then leans over and plants kisses on the back of her neck. “You smell really good, honey,” she says, inhaling the sweet, near-intoxicating scent of the girl’s smooth, youthful skin and her Aveeno-shampooed hair. I’ll take this step by cautious step, Amber thinks, unlike the women in the video who appear experienced. “They’ve obviously done this before,” Amber opines, “way before they decided to film it.”

Kelly agrees. “That would be my guess, too.” Fingers still churning inside her panties, she adds, “Mom, between what you’re doing and this video, I feel ready to explode!”

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