The train stopped and in came 3 guys in their 30´s from the middle east. Rather stocky, big and rough looking guys that sat down close to me and noticed that they had been drinking as well because they where loud and laughing. I smiled and one of the guys noticed that and all of a sudden they where involved with a discussion about me because they looked my way, laughed and discussed in arabic. It was time for me to get off at my station so I passed the guys on my way to the doors and whished them a nice evening. The doors opened and the guys went off as well. On my way upp the stairs from the station i turned around an saw the 3 guys follow me up the stairs with a grin on their faces. I lit a cigarette and one of the guys came up to me and asked if i had a cigarette in bad Swedish. I gave him one and offered the package to his friends. They smiled and looked at eachother and took one each. I started to walk a bit slow just to see what was going to happen. The guys looked pretty. For twenty years, we had shared the same man, Cheryl’s husband Clinton. He was our Master. He dominated us, punished us, gave us just what we craved. We made love for his amusement, committing incest to please him. The six months since his death had hit us both hard ... Particularly my older sister, who loved her husband just a bit more than I did.And now my sixteen-year-old nephew Clint was stepping up as man of the house, dominating not only my daughter, Melody—who had a huge crush on him—but my sister and my innocent, fourteen-year-old niece, Alicia. It shocked me. Not Melody, I had been waiting for the pair to get past the kissing cousin stage, but the rest of it. My sister fucking her son, submitting to her son, quiet Alicia losing her cherry to Clint.It made me so wet. I wanted to join in the fun, but I was stuck at school on this dumb debate tournament. Why did I ever agree to coach it? It didn’t net me an extra paycheck but cost me plenty of my personal time.I was on the.
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