Chapter 1: The Welcome Back Fuck
The Arizona sun was a physical weight, pressing down on the back of his neck as David hauled the last suitcase from the Uber. He could already smell the chlorine from the pool, a clean, sharp scent cutting through the dry heat. The patio doors slid open before he could even ring the bell.
“My babies!” Carla’s voice, a warm, melodic shout, preceded her. She swept out, barefoot, a silk kimono floating around her curves. Her golden hair was piled messily, and her smile was immediate and brilliant. She wrapped Dana in a hug first, then David, her body soft and familiar against his. She smelled of coconut oil and expensive perfume. “God, look at you both. All grown up. Again.”
Rich appeared behind her, taller, broader, a towel slung over his shoulder. His grin was easy, his eyes crinkling. “The terror twins return.” He clapped David on the shoulder, a firm, approving grip. His gaze slid to Dana, and the warmth in it deepened, turned proprietary. “Missed you, kiddo.”
“Missed you too, Uncle Rich,” Dana said, her voice a little husky. She tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, a gesture David knew was nerves. Excitement.
The house was cool, a haven of polished tile and modern furniture. Their usual guest rooms were ready, crisp sheets smelling of lavender. Unpacking was a quick, silent ritual between them, just the shuffle of clothes into drawers, the shared, charged glance across the hallway. Anticipation hummed in the air, thick as the heat outside.
They reconvened by the kitchen island. Carla poured tall glasses of iced tea, the condensation already beading on the glass. She leaned forward, her cleavage a deep, inviting shadow. “So. The important question. You must be starving from the trip. You want me to start some pasta? Or…” Her eyes danced between them, a playful, knowing spark. “Do you want to play first?”
David didn’t even look at Dana. He didn’t need to. The answer was a current running between them.
“Play,” David said, the word leaving his lips in a rush.
“Play,” Dana echoed, a faint pink flush spreading across her cheeks and chest.
Rich’s chuckle was a low rumble. He set his glass down. “Thought you’d never ask.” He pushed off the stool and held a hand out to Dana. She took it, her small fingers disappearing in his. He led her away, not toward the guest wing, but toward the master suite at the far end of the house. Dana glanced back once, her hazel eyes wide and dark, and David gave her the slightest nod. Go on.
Carla’s hand found his. Her skin was warm. “My room or yours?” she asked, her thumb stroking his knuckle.
“Mine,” David said. He liked the familiarity of his summer space, the blue walls, the desert landscape print. It felt like his territory.
The guest room door clicked shut, and Carla was on him before he could take another breath. Her mouth found his, hungry and experienced, her tongue sweeping past his lips. She tasted of mint and tea. Her hands slid under his t-shirt, pushing it up over his head. He fumbled with the tie of her kimono, the silk slithering loose to pool at her feet. She stood before him in just a scarlet lace thong, her body a lush, magnificent curve of tanned skin and full breasts. “I think about this all year,” she breathed against his neck, her hands working his belt buckle. “That young, hard cock. That eager look in your eyes. That hot family sperm.”
His jeans and boxers hit the floor. He was already fully hard, his length standing out from his slender frame. Carla wrapped her fingers around him, not stroking, just holding, weighing him in her palm. A low, approving sound vibrated in her throat. She guided him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he sat down.
“Let me look at you,” she murmured, and then she sank to her knees on the plush rug.
She took him into her mouth slowly, her lips a slick, hot ring. Her eyes, heavy-lidded and blue, stayed locked on his. David’s head fell back, a groan tearing from him. Her mouth was incredible, a wet, suctioning heat that made his hips jerk. She deep-throated him with practiced ease, her nose pressing into the fine dark hair at his base, her throat working around him. The obscene, wet sounds filled the quiet room. She pulled off with a pop, a string of saliva connecting her glistening lips to his tip.
“You like that, don’t you?” she whispered, her breath hot on his wet skin. “You like watching your aunt suck your pretty cock.”
“Fuck, yes,” he panted.
She laughed, a throaty, joyous sound, and climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips. She reached between her legs, flicked her thong aside, and notched the head of his cock against her opening. She was soaked, her slickness warm on his skin. “Then come on, baby. Give it to me. Give your favorite aunt that incest dick.”
She sank down in one slow, exquisite slide, her body swallowing him whole. A ragged cry escaped her as she bottomed out, her inner muscles fluttering around him. She began to ride him, a rolling, powerful motion of her hips, her full breasts bouncing. David gripped her thighs, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, and thrust up to meet her. The slap of skin on skin, her frantic moans, the creak of the bedsprings—it was a symphony he remembered, a ritual of summer. Her juices coated his balls and thighs, a musky, intimate smell rising between them.
Down the hall, in the master bedroom, Dana was on her hands and knees on the massive California king. Rich knelt behind her, his large, calloused hands spanning her tiny waist. The contrast was shocking—his tanned, hairy bulk against her pale, girlish smoothness. The head of his cock, thick and purplish, nudged at her entrance.
“You ready for this, sweetheart?” Rich’s voice was grit, strained with control.
“Yes,” Dana whimpered, pushing her ass back against him. “Please, uncle Rich. I need it.”
He pushed in, not slowly. There was a sharp, bitten-off cry from Dana, her back arching, her knuckles white on the duvet. She was impossibly tight, but wet, her body reluctantly giving way to the invading thickness. He sank to the hilt, a long, low groan escaping him. “Christ, you feel like a vice. A hot, little velvet vice.”
"Shit it's so big!" Dana moaned, "I long for this all year, uncle Rich. I long for that big cock of yours. I know you fuck tons of other girls all year, but I love being the one you fuck in the summer. I love being your slutty niece."
He began to fuck her in earnest, powerful, piston-like drives that shook her whole body forward with each thrust. The sound was wetter, meatier here. Dana’s cries were muffled by the bedding, then high and open as he found a rhythm. One of his hands left her hip and snaked around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing rough, quick circles.
“Come for me, Dana,” he grunted, his pace becoming brutal, punishing. “Squeeze that pretty little pussy around my cock.”
Back in the guest room, Carla was on her back, her legs hooked over David’s shoulders. He was pounding into her, his skinny frame fueled by a desperate, youthful energy. Sweat slicked his pale back, dripped from his tousled hair. Carla’s head thrashed on the pillow, her mascara smudging. “Right there! Oh god, right there, David! Don’t stop!” Her heels dug into his back, urging him deeper. The room reeked of sex, of her perfume and their combined sweat. His balls tightened, a familiar, urgent coil low in his gut.
Rich pulled out of Dana’s dripping pussy. He flipped her onto her back with ease. Her hazel eyes were glazed, her mouth swollen. He dragged her to the edge of the bed, her ass hanging off, and lifted her legs, pushing them back toward her chest, exposing her completely. He spat into his hand, slicked his cock, and pressed the broad head against her other, smaller hole.
Her eyes flew open, fully alert. “Rich…”
“Shhh,” he soothed, but his expression was fierce, focused. “You can take it. You always do.” He applied relentless pressure, watching her face. Her mouth formed a silent ‘o’ as the tip breached her, a slow, burning stretch. He paused, letting her adjust, his own breath shuddering. Then, with a firm, continuous push, he buried himself in her ass.
A ragged scream tore from Dana’s throat, a sound of overwhelming sensation. It wasn’t pain, not anymore—it was a shocking, all-consuming fullness. He began to move, shorter, harder strokes that made her see stars.
David’s control shattered. With a final, driving thrust, he slammed into Carla and came, a raw shout ripped from his throat. Heat pulsed from him in thick, rhythmic spurts, filling her. She clenched around him, milking him, her own climax triggering a second, weaker wave from him. He collapsed on top of her, spent, his heart hammering against hers.
A moment later, a distant, echoing cry filtered through the walls—Dana’s voice, strained and euphoric. Then Rich’s deeper roar, a victorious, animal sound.
Silence.
Then, the heavy, satisfied sound of breathing.
Carla stroked David’s damp hair. Her body beneath him was soft and utterly relaxed. “Welcome home, baby,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Down the hall, Rich was gently pulling out of Dana. He leaned down, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “Good girl,” he murmured, the words thick with affection. “My amazing girl.”
Dana trembled, a spent, boneless wreck on the rumpled sheets. A slow, sated smile touched her lips. She could hear the faint murmur of her brother’s voice through the wall. They were home. And the summer, stretched out before them, was just beginning.