Bloodline

He was laying in the snow, his ears ringing, his staff was still in his clutched fist, and he breathed hard. He knew his father was out of breath, too, but he was disappointed he didn't win this time.

Of course his father, the chief, was finding it more and more difficult to win their sparring matches now that his son was eighteen. Pride gleaming in his eyes, even as his sides were bruised by the teenager's increasingly powerful blows, he ordered:

"Get up, Irwin."

He sat up in the snow, his warm breath making a thick fog before his face, and refused his father's hand to get back up on his feet. He was agitated. Ever since he was a boy, he had wanted nothing more than to win, and he felt victory was ever closer yet still out of reach. It was always the small things, a minor mistake, a small step in the wrong direction that had him losing. His father, though slowed down by years, was strong, all-knowing, he knew what he'd be doing before Irwin even thought of it. He secretly envied this power and he self-assured and calibrated moves.

More than anything, Irwin wanted a chance to tell his mother he had won. He knew all too well where his rivalry with his father stemmed from. He knew it was his fault he felt like this. His fault for watching.

He should never have been standing behind their door all these nights...

They were younger then, and Zeichel was not yet the village chief. He and his wife lived a little removed from the rest of the houses. People were scared of him and curious about his wife, a stranger he had stolen from a travelling theatre the villagers had raided and pillaged. Zeichel had strong hands, his eyes were calm and intelligent, and he had the threatening demeanour of a hunter, and his wife Aleen had curves and a dreamy smile, she moved slowly and gracefully, and, like a dog with its master, she always seemed to seek his touch. She would close her eyes slightly when he put a hand on the back of her waist.

That night, within their bedroom, he undressed and she shivered, her eyes on his muscular tanned arms as he walked up to her. He grabbed her throat and pushed her against the wall, and she batted her eyes as he slid down the straps of her nightgown, uncovering large white round, saggy breasts and pinching the dark pink nipples between his thick fingers. She gasped and squeaked, her mouth was open and her lips were wet. He kissed them, licked her tongue and kept her close to the wall. When he parted from her, he saw her with her eyes half closed, drooling a little, drops of saliva ran down her neck to the back of his hand. He smirked. She couldn't help it. She was ready, always, as soon as he put his hand on her. He tightened his grip and choked her as he rolled the gown up to stroke her pussy. She was wet already, she moaned when his fingers found her clit and rubbed it a little.

"Shhh... Good girl. Be quiet. Don't wake the kid." He said, his mouth close to her reddening face. She was running out of air, and he released his grip when he saw her roll her eyes up.

She gasped but was immediately pushed to her knees, and his thick-headed cock entered her gaping mouth quickly. He grabbed her by her hair, and pulled her face toward his hips. She gagged and her mouth started to water. He stayed there, as deep in her throat as he could push, eyes shut, for a few seconds. Then, the grip on her hair tightened, and he proceeded to move her head back and forth on his rod. Transfixed, she grabbed her nightgown tightly as he used her, groaning, staring down at her. She drooled, coughed and gagged, but he kept on. Her hips helplessly moved back and forth and she felt her pussy tighten. She tried not to throw up, but couldn't help it. The warm vomit filled her mouth and coated his cock before dripping down one of his legs. He smiled, his teeth clenched in satisfaction, and spat on her forehead. He fucked her face harder for a moment and then pushed her off. She gently collapsed against the wall, her pussy drenched, her body shaking and her eyes closed.

He took the nightgown off her, wiped her face, his cock and his leg with it, and pulled her up. She staggered to the bed where she crawled on all fours, her hips up in the air, presenting her holes. He looked at her pussy, juices dripping along the inside of her thighs, and he slid his cock in her. She moaned as he kept pushing himself deep. He filled her completely. He started to fuck her, gripping her hips, eyes closed, just focused on the sweet pulsation of her insides, simply enjoying how she felt in his hands, knowing she was his, feeling and enjoying this animalistic ownership. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the belt he had thrown on the bed a moment before, and grabbed it. He folded it and whipped her back as he slammed his cock into her. She whimpered and moaned.

"You're mine. You're fucking mine." He growled, forgetting to be quiet.

"Yes... oh yes... I love it... it hurts..." she muttered in her sweet agony, as she felt the leather lashing her back.

He came, his fingers digging into her hips, while she screamed her pleasure into a pillow.

After he stayed in her a little while, he slowly pulled out and she lied on her belly, her legs together, keeping his seed preciously inside her. Her eyes were closed, they were still wet with tears, but she had a soft, peaceful smile on her face. He stroked her hair.

"I love you." She said.

He leaned on his elbow and kissed her bruising back.

"I love you too." He whispered back.

He stroked her hips and butt, knowing his semen was still in her and that she wouldn't move so she could keep it in as long as possible.

"We'll have another child." He said.

She nodded with a contented laugh.

Of course, Irwin had not meant to see all this and he didn't fully understand what he was witnessing that night.

But now that he was eighteen, he had no excuse for it, no innocent curiosity, but rather a guilty obsession for watching his parents in the act. He did it on purpose, spitting on his hand first, and rubbing his veiny penis as he watched them go at it. He loved to look at his mother's breasts.

After sparring, that night, they had dinner. Greta, a young, slender blonde with small perky breasts was with them. Aleen had prepared a stew, its lovely smell filled the kitchen, and she filled her husband and children's plates with joy. But when it came to Greta, her hand always shook when she gave her food or poured her wine. Greta was a newly wed, and as the tradition demanded, Zeichel, the chief, was to have sex with her on her wedding night before returning her to her rightful husband. The young woman laughed, her cheeks were pink and she was excited, and, under the table, Zeichel was pulling her gown up and touching her thin legs. His cock was hard. After dinner, the children, including Irwin, went to bed, while the couple and Greta kept drinking for a while.

When he heard them go to the bedroom, Irwin sneaked out of his bed and went to slightly open his parents' door, watching the scene unfold.

Aleen was sitting on the bed, she was all dressed up but her husband uncovered her big breasts. She smiled at him, watching him go over to Greta and undress her. She was petite, her hips and waist were small, and her breasts were two small tender bumps with pale nipples. She was beautiful. She smiled and bit her plump lips.

"Chief, I'm not a virgin any more. Ruben already took me at the last Autumn fair. Please don't tell the village. I'll give you my holes."

The Chief groaned a little, caressing her cheek.

"Aleen, come suck me." He ordered.

Aleen came, on all fours, her tits hanging out of her dress, and took off her husband's trousers. He was already hard when she took him in her mouth, and he started to kiss Greta as his older wife gave him a dedicated blowjob.

He sucked her little tongue, licked the inside of her mouth while enjoying Aleen gagging on his cock. He could hardly wait to fuck the new little bride as his wife pumped him with her trained mouth. When he looked down, he saw her almost cumming from it.

"She loves my cock." He said, putting Greta's hand on his wife's head. The young woman giggled and pushed her on it.

Aleen gagged and gargled, making her husband moan like an animal.

"Try it." He said. Aleen moved aside so Greta could drop to her knees and suck the thick cock of the chief. He relished in that fresh little mouth sucking him, and moaned.

He looked down at his wife, who was watching her eagerly suck.

"Oh fuck, she's so good. She's so pretty with my cock in her mouth. She's sucking me so well." The chief said.

Aleen whimpered, smiling, jealous, humiliated, basking in the delicious sight of her husband being pleasured.

"Lick her holes." He told his wife.

She crawled behind Greta and parted her little asscheeks, exposing her small clit and her twitching butthole. She plunged her tongue inside her cunt, her nose against the tight asshole. Greta gasped on the cock. Her eyes rolled a little and she moaned, the dick still in her mouth, poking her throat.

"Oh fuck. She loves it. Fuck she looks great." He said.

Aleen kept pleasuring her, now eager, enthusiastic, half crazy, she licked and licked and sucked the clit and holes, looking up at her husband, all smiles, making the little Greta cum for him.

After a while, he picked her up and sat her on a table. He opened her legs and brought Aleen's face next to her crotch.

"Watch. Watch me fuck." He said.

Aleen fixed her eyes on the throbbing cock going in and out of the tight pussy. Her lips were open, drool dripped down on her lap as she looked. All the while, Zeichel kept talking to her.

"She's so tight, it's great, she feels amazing on my cock... Fuck, she's beautiful... Can you hear her moan?"

He saw Aleen desperate to lick his cock. But no, he wouldn't give it to her just yet. He pulled Greta slightly off the table and had Aleen lick her asshole.

Desperately horny, the wife greedily licked the tight asshole, forcing her tongue inside.

The young woman giggled, opening her legs wider, letting the orgasm flood her.

"Yes! My ass! My ass! I love it in the ass!" Greta cried out.

Zeichel felt his cock throb, he pulled out not to cum at the statement.

He pushed Greta on the floor, and had his wife hold her ass open as he pushed his cock inside. Greta didn't even wince, she joyfully took the dick in there and laughed as she came, happy to be filled.

"Fuck! Fuck! That ass is great! I'm fucking her! She's so much better!" Zeichel said as he rammed his cock inside her. He moaned loudly as he exploded in her tight hole, his cock pulsating. He pulled out, and immediately shoved his dick in his wife's mouth. She sucked it clean, and he let her eat the cum out of Greta's ass. She slurped and sucked, eyes closed, forever addicted to his semen.

When Greta dressed back up and left, Irwin hid behind the door and was quiet until she left the house. He looked back inside the bedroom after a while, and saw his parents kissing.

His mother, submissive, turned on, desperate, was moaning from this, her body undulating under his father's hands, and he was kissing her, still enjoying the way she was his, the deep connection he had with her, how he had trained her, owned her body for all these years, how he knew her every nerve, her every trigger.

She begged to be taken. She wept. He shushed her, and she went to the bed, on all fours, offering herself. He grabbed the belt and joined her. He used her juices to lube her ass and slid in, hearing her gasp. He put his head back, closed his eyes, felt her hips under his hand, and started to whip her in rhythm with his strokes. Irwin saw her, facing him, saw her pleasure build up, and it went on like this for a while, they were both lost in pleasure. Then, suddenly, Zeichel put the belt against her throat and pulled her back to him. She gasped, grabbing the leather. He fucked her harder, her heavy tits swaying and jumping as he buried himself deep in her. Gargling, her eyes rolled back, her face red, she came violently just as he did again.

His eyes staring at the white flesh of her breasts, Irwin came inside his own hand, breathing out a single: "Mommy".