Family Comfort Ch. 01

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Portland to Denver.
3.3k words
4.32
143.6k
113

Part 1 of the 17 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 01/28/2017
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All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old.

*****

Claude pulled his Oldsmobile Toronado to the curb and listened to the powerful motor purr for a few seconds before he shut it off. Hopelessly out of step with the modern trends, Claude loved this huge 'boat' with its big-block V-8 gasoline engine. He didn't give a shit about the mileage or the political correctness. He loved the pure comfort, luxury and size of the car. He also didn't mind the appreciative, even covetous, stares he routinely got from people too cowardly to admit their own desires.

Claude closed his eyes and thought about why he was here at his sister's house in Denver at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday after driving straight through from Portland. And there was another reason to love the Toronado: Eighteen hours driving and he was bushed, but not beat up and worn down.

Sally, age 38, was 19 years younger than Claude. "A family 'one-off' folks figured, but what a one-off she had been!" Claude mused. His thoughts suddenly shifted to their mother, Carla, who passed on, at age 79, at 5:46 a.m. Tuesday. The retirement home called him fifteen minutes later and by 7 o'clock he had shit, showered, shaved and was in the Olds with his kit bag heading for Denver to be with Sally and her 18 year-old daughter, Nel.

He never knew why his sister and her worthless, now gone and forgotten, husband had named his niece 'Nelson.' Maybe they thought it would be cute to be different, but when he heard the name, Claude's only thought was of the New York governor from bygone years. He was glad when she started school and asked to be called 'Nel.'

His reverie returned to a warm summer when he was just 18 years old. He was sleeping lightly in his bedroom, naked under just a cotton top sheet. A soft breeze sifted through his open window. The curtains randomly fluttered as stray wafts caught them.

He remembered suddenly the darkness over his bed darkened still more as a shadow loomed above his supine form. He had kept his eyes half-closed with his head naturally propped by his left arm, bent under his pillow. The shadow moved. Hands eased the sheet back, down his body to his knees, where they carefully laid it folded across his shins. He heard a sharp, yet soft, intake of breath followed by a softer, unmistakable "Oh!"

He had just processed the voice and recognized it as his mother's when he felt her hand close around his flaccid penis. The hand was warm, soft, dry and smooth. His cock liked it and began to thicken immediately in her loose fist. Just then the curtains fluttered and with the zephyr came a shaft of light from a streetlamp. Carla's face, intensely interested in what she held in her right hand, was accented by the sparkle of her eyes, fixed on Claude's growing young manhood. He knew from memory that her eyes were hazel with beautiful gold flecks, but now they were black diamonds set in a pale cameo framed by her long amber hair which fell forward, tickling his thighs and hips.

Carla leaned close to the bulb protruding from her encircling thumb and index finger. She gently rubbed her thumb pad under the chin of the fleshy helmet atop Claude's rigid engorged prick. Smiling, she bent and kissed its soft slit as a small blob of pre-cum oozed out. Claude forced himself to lay still, feigning sleep, while he thrilled to the touch of his mother's mouth. His cock leaped of it own accord when she circumnavigated his knob with her tongue, slid her right hand to the base of his stalk and hefted his heavy balls in the cupped palm of her left hand.

"Mmmm," she mewed quietly as she lightly pulsed her fist, continuing to slide it up and down his erection. Her voice was no longer clear because the top third of Claude's dick was in her warm wet mouth, pressed between her soft tongue and her hard palate.

Claude felt a familiar tightening as his sack shrunk and pulled his nuts together in Carla's hand. He decided to wake up. He moved quickly and grabbed his succubus by her porcelain shoulders. "Mother," he said. "I am awake. Kiss me here, now." He enforced the quiet command by pulling Carla up, off his cock and onto his bare chest. He breathed deep, inhaling the unique scent of her hair, body and perfume. She eagerly accepted his open mouth with hers. They kissed deeply and long.

Claude slipped his hands from her arms across Carla's back and down her rayon peignoir. Squeezing her bottom, he found the leg seams of her baby-doll's panties and pushed his fingers under, scraping his close-trimmed nails along the bare flesh of her inner thighs up to their junction.

Carla moaned deep into his throat. Her legs separated and she seized Claude's temples between her palms as she fervently kissed him. Claude ran his right hand back along his mother's spine to her shoulder blades. He inserted his left middle two fingers into the entrance of her dampening pussy while his right hand pressed her down to his chest. Carla's full breasts flattened. She twisted her shoulders in a lazy figure-eight, rolling her tits, beneath the baby-doll top, across her son's pectorals, scraping her hardened nipples, with scant protection, through the teenager's developing mat of coarse hair.

"Uhnn," grunted Carla, then she forced herself away from Claude's face but not out of his arms. "I'm so... sorry!" She began to sob silently and shake in her son's grasp. Gathering strength, Carla continued, "Oh, Claude, forgive me! Ben hardly touches me anymore... I think he has, OH! I don't know! Someone else... maybe several others." Her tears rolled across her face and dropped, like hot shards, onto Claude's cheeks. "I'm so...frustrated and... HORNY! I shouldn't have said that! I shouldn't have done this... Please, please, forget it. Don't HATE ME!"

Claude stopped diddling his mother's aroused cunt and rubbed her back lightly with both hands as she collapsed against him and buried her face in his neck and his pillow. "There, there," he soothed, lifting his left hand and stroking her hair, drying her pussy juice from his fingers at the same time. He wove his fingers into her hair and began massaging her scalp at the nape of her neck. "I could never hate you, Mother. I don't know what's up with Dad, but you have nothing to apologize for so there's nothing to forgive or forget." Claude lifted her head from the pillow and kissed her lightly. "In fact," he continued, "I am glad you are here. I liked what you were doing. I liked it a lot!"

Carla, no longer crying, weakly attempted to regain her self-control and maternal authority. "But it is wrong both morally and legally and I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you." She protested.

"Mother." Claude spoke flatly, trying to sound reasonable and much more objective than he felt, "I'm 18 and a half years old. You are what? Forty?" Carla nodded reflexively. "So we are both adults, you're here, you're horny... you said so, remember... so let me help you and you can sort stuff out with Dad later. This doesn't ever have to be spoken of. You know there's a book we read for English. Sons and Lovers by D. H. Lawrence. That was written way back in, like 1913 or something, so what's happening here, right now, is no new thing, is it?" He kissed her again, more warmly, and then pulled back his head and searched her face and eyes for a go ahead signal.

Carla took a deep breath and sighed. Rolling to her left, she pulled her son with her until he was straddling her hips and kneeling over her. "Oh, shut up and... FUCK me!"

In the Toronado Claude grinned and shook his head. Even after 39 years his dick swelled with the memory. He HAD fucked her. Tentatively at first and clumsily, to be sure, but effectively. In fact, his mother and he made love several times that night, into the morning and through the week while his Dad was away on a business trip. When Ben returned, however, their dalliances stopped and at summer's end Claude left for college.

When he came home for Christmas break Carla was six months pregnant with Sally. She had made Ben think he was the father, but admitted to Claude she knew from her cycles that the baby was going to be both his sister and his daughter. They agreed never to reveal the truth and, as far as Claude knew, his mother died with the secret. "And this is not the day I confess to Sally, either!" He said aloud to himself.

A sudden tapping on his side window startled Claude. He turned his head and saw Nel peering into the Olds with a wry smile and tilted head. He removed his right hand from his crotch and powered down the window.

"Hi, Uncle Claude," Nel whispered on the silent street, "Whatchya doin' out here? Come in the house. You must be tired."

"Hi yourself, kiddo," Claude replied, "What are YOU doing out here? That's the better question. Shouldn't you be in bed yourself?" His genial riposte and quick chuckle gave him cover as he composed himself in the unlit interior. He hoped she had not seen him idly stroking himself through his chinos. "Seriously," he said, sticking his head over the window sill and eyeing his niece quickly up and down, "It's a nice night but you could still catch a cold in that bathrobe. And those cute furry squirrel slippers aren't made for traipsing outdoors. So, how long have you been standing there and do you want to sit in the car for a moment?" His words came in a hushed hurry backed by a wide inviting grin.

"Oh no, Unk," Nel answered, "I'm OK... just got here actually." She leaned in and kissed Claude's cheek. "You're sweet to worry, but I came out to help you when you didn't come in right away. Mom's crashed and I figured someone should be here to welcome you."

"I'm OK, too, Nel," Claude assured her. "Just sitting her a moment and collecting my thoughts." He pulled his head back into the Olds. "Like, for instance, how much you have blossomed in the last six years. You aren't my 'tomboy' niece anymore! You have become quite a beautiful young woman."

Nel blushed at the compliment and stammered, "Th-thanks Uncle Claude." She stepped back as the Toronado's door opened and her uncle stepped out of the car. When the door closed again she stepped up close and hugged him, laying her face on his chest. The top of her short, boxy haircut snugged under his chin like a muff. "I still like to hike and climb trees, though," she laughed into his Pendleton brushed wool shirt.

"Me, too, kiddo," Claude replied agreeably. His hands naturally cruised up and down Nel's quilted robe and he felt her melt into him as he rubbed. "Hey!" he hissed abruptly. "Let's get in the house, huh?" he swatted her padded bottom gently and broke the embrace.

Nel grinned and snaked her right arm around Claude's waist. Pulling him away from the car she steered them both to the driveway and half-stepped to walk in time with her uncle. "Right! I can rustle up bacon and eggs real quick if you are hungry... or do you just want to hit the sack? It must have been a tough drive," she sympathized as they approached the front door.

"Oh, the drive was easy enough. Pretty much interstate all the way and traffic was good. Got hung up around Salt Lake City but otherwise, nothing to complain about." He was more emotionally drained than physically tired. "I could eat a bite if you want to fix it. Thanks!" He turned his face and kissed her quickly on her temple before following his niece into the house.

He didn't see the mischief in her face but, even under the old robe, her ass was unmistakable as she flounced to the kitchen, saying, "Cool! I'm on it! The sofa-bed in the den is already made up. You can put your bag in there."

Claude walked down the hall of the three-bedroom ranch home. He put his bag inside the first bedroom, converted to a study with a desk, iMac, bookcases and overstuffed easy chair. The room was crowded now with the couch unfolded into a double bed. Curious, he continued down the hall and looked into the next room on the left. Pink. Pink and cream. Peaches and cream, just like Nel. "Smells just like her, too," Claude mused to himself as he sniffed the fragrant air. Looking over his shoulder he boldly stepped in and scanned the full room. He chuckled at the rumpled bed and the PJ's tossed on the floor around a big stuffed turquoise dragon with a flame-shaped felt tongue. The room was teenager tidy. Orderly enough to find things but far from neat.

Claude resisted the temptation to open Nel's drawers and look at their contents. Instead he retreated to the hall. He could still hear noises from the kitchen and the bacon's aroma filled the house. The door to the master bedroom, across from Nel, was closed, but still ajar. He pushed it open and looked into the shadows.

Sally was curled in a fetal position with her arms, in long flannel sleeves, hugging a large bolster. The covers lay loose over her hips and the hem of her nightgown had ridden up, exposing her left buttock. Claude stepped across the room to the king-size bed and looked lovingly on his daughter's pale placid countenance. "Jesus, sweetie," he said under his breath, "You look just like Carla." Except, he noted to himself, she had his slightly cleft chin and light brown hair. Gently he pulled the hem of her gown down below her knees and drug the coverlet up over her shoulders. Bending over he kissed her cheek and heard her sigh as his lips brushed the skin.

"Ahem!" Nel coughed discretely from the doorway. "Eggs are up, Unk."

Claude turned, smiled and said, "Thanks, I'll be right there." He gave Sally a light pat on her head and said, "Sweet dreams, Sis," then left the room, closing the door the way he found it.

The kitchen was warm and comfortable from the cooking. A plate of scrambled eggs and cheese with a couple of bacon strips was set on the small expandable Formica and tubular steel kitchen table. Claude remembered the 'yellow monster' from Carla's kitchen when he was a boy. Seating himself again at on a matching vinyl chair made him feel like he was sixteen again. Looking at Nel, her robe partly open from her movements around the stove, he wished he was back in high school. "God she is lovely!" he thought to himself, stealing admiring glances at her unbound breasts bouncing under her pajama top behind the bathrobe's lapels.

Nel brought him a glass of grapefruit juice. "I didn't make coffee because I thought you would not want the caffeine. I can fix a hot chocolate for you, though, if you want." As she leaned over and placed the juice glass beside the plate her right breast bobbled and bumped Claude's left arm. He felt like he had been seared by a hot poker. Nel seemed not to notice as she pulled away. She stood by his chair and rubbed his shoulders lightly. "Hmmm? Would you like something hot and sweet to go with the savory eggs?" she asked again.

Claude looked sideways, involuntarily leaning back into Nel's massaging grip. "To tell the truth, now that I'm sitting, I am barely up to chewing. I'm afraid I'd dribble if I tried to drink anything!"

She laughed with him, picked up his fork in her left hand and brought a load of eggs to his mouth. "In that case, maybe I should feed you." Her right hand flattened and moved in small circles across his back above the top of the chair.

Claude felt growing pressure in his groin as she worked slowly back and forth between his shoulder blades and his collar bone. "Do you know what you're doing, kiddo?" he asked. His voice was oddly hoarse.

"Uh-huh... I think so." Nel responded quietly, "Do YOU know what I am doing?" She put the fork down and stepped behind the lemon-and-chrome chair. Using both hands, Nel slid her fingers up Claude's neck and rubbed his ears and scalp slowly with just enough pressure not to tickle.

"I think you are teasing a tired traveler and it isn't nice." Claude objected without moving away from the tender massage.

Nel bent and kissed the top of his head then inched forward and leaned over him. Her fragrance enveloped him and he felt lost as her fingers moved to his temples and forehead. Before he knew it his head was resting against her robe, nestled between her firm yet soft young breasts. A groan escaped his lips.

"Hmmmm," Nel continued, as she stroked his head and pressed him deeper against her chest, "You ARE a tired traveler but I think I am being VERY nice." She lowered her voice to a nearly inaudible breath. "I'm certainly not a tease... that was mean of you to say."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be mean," Claude answered thickly as he forgot about the food and focused on not pushing his hand inside his slacks to straighten his stiffening cock. "I only meant you might be unaware of the... uhn, effect of your touch and... ohh, it's not

n-nice to create such... uhn, tension when it can't be... r-released." Even as he stammered his protest he realized it was still as lame as when Carla trotted it out when he was Nel's age.

"You mean because your tired?" cooed Nel, pushing her right hand over his chest and undoing the top button of his shirt, "Or because," she buzzed in his ear, "You're my... uncle, Uncle Claude?" Nel felt her pussy start to tingle as she undid the second shirt button and traced her left index finger over her uncle's lips.

Claude reflexively opened his mouth and Nel, seizing the opportunity, inserted her fingertip. "Don't you want me to help you relax after your drive, Uncle Claude?" she whispered. Her nail scraped ever so lightly on the tip of her uncle's tongue.

Claude exited his trap by pushing the table straight away from himself and standing. Turning around he caught a gleam in his niece's grey eyes and saw her face was flushed. "I mean both, kiddo," Claude stated with resolve, despite seeing that Nel's fully open robe revealed her perfect upturned breasts bulging behind her thin polyester pajama top. Her nipples were rigid bumps against the soft shiny fabric molded to her well-defined areolas. "Now be a good girl. Give your uncle a hug and kiss goodnight and let me grab some shut-eye. We can talk in the morning, OK?"

Nel stepped around the chair and pressed her full length against Claude. Clasping her hands behind his head she pulled him into a deep, very un-niece-like, kiss and held him for a long five-count. Breaking the kiss with a rush she said, "There! That'll have to hold you, I guess! Good night, Uncle Claude!" Then she fled the room and raced down the hall leaving her secret grandfather flummoxed and more sexually aroused than he had been for years or imagined he could be again.

He munched a strip of bacon as he scraped the eggs into the garbage before walking very slowly to the sofa-bed.

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MishaPearl2MishaPearl28 months agoAuthor

Family Comfort ie followed by Family Developmpent with a brief sides-step for Taylor Maid, and then finally Family Weekend. Enjoy the trilogy! MP2 :-)

AnonymousAnonymous8 months ago

I see you stories are connected. what order should they be read in ?

goducks111goducks111over 4 years ago
great opening

love the tease, looking forward to more!

MishaPearl2MishaPearl2over 6 years agoAuthor
Thanks RightBank

I appreciate curiosity and I hope the story satisfies. Feel free to peruse my ouevre. Comments are always welcome. MP2

rightbankrightbankover 6 years ago
Interesting Beginning

With each paragraph another possibility opens.

I'm curious to see where we are headed

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