A FAMILY FORNICATION (A Taboo Tale #3)
Violet Williams
Published by Quiver Publishing at Smashwords
Copyright 2011 Violet Williams
When Dallas Kensington walks in on his son, daughter, and granddaughter fucking on the beach, he’s simultaneously horrified and intrigued. Putting on a brave face, he will try to cleanse them of their sins, ignoring a sin or two that burns inside himself.
Esther Kensington has two jobs: wife to a husband that despises her and a mother to her children. Her children’s affair will make her question her own life and sexual needs.
Davis Kensington is still filled with desire for his stepdaughter, Jess, but is conflicted about where they go next.
Jess Capshaw feels guilty about shutting down her blossoming affair with her Aunt Sara, until she learns that she too cares for Davis.
Sara Kensington is unraveling, still coming to terms with her attraction to her brother, Davis. Bitter that he chose Jess over her, she won’t go down quietly.
A Family Fornication is the erotic conclusion to the Taboo Tale Trilogy.
Content Warning: A Family Fornication includes pseudo incest (sex and sexual attraction between a father/daughter, brother/sister, mother/son, and grandfather/granddaughter). All characters engaging in sex are 18+ and this title is intended for adult audiences only.
The Taboo Tale Trilogy
A Forbidden Tryst
A Family Affair
A Family Fornication
E-book License Edition Notes
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Table of Contents
Chapter One: Terrible, Beautiful Things (Dallas)
Chapter Two: No Tears (Esther)
Chapter Three: Dance For Daddy (Davis)
Chapter Four: Fallout vs. Bliss (Jess)
Chapter Five: Truth (Sara)
Chapter Six: Intervention (Dallas)
Chapter Seven: Desires in the Water (Esther)
Chapter Eight: Table for Three (Davis)
Chapter Nine: Fight Club (Jess)
Chapter Ten: Jailbirds (Sara)
Chapter Eleven: A Hypocrite (Dallas)
Chapter Twelve: Freedom (Esther)
Chapter Thirteen: Deception (Davis)
Chapter Fourteen: Home (Jess)
Epilogue: Our Story (Sara)
1
Terrible, Beautiful Things (Dallas)
"As a preacher, I've seen amazing and terrible things." His mind flitted back to prayer circles that yielded new jobs, sickness being healed. He remembered the dreams of demons, the evil he'd cast out. The darkness that he sometimes found in himself in the quiet of the night. "But nothing, NOTHING compares to what your mother and I witnessed tonight."
Dallas stared at the lot of them. His son, his only boy, now a man--yet he could barely even look his father in the eye.
Davis was the spitting image of Dallas twenty years ago. Add in a rash of gray to his dark hair, a little wrinkles around the lips and eyes and they could probably pass as twins.
But that's where the similarities stopped. Dallas found his calling with the church, starting his congregation in a tent in his backyard until it blossomed to one of the most prolific churches in the world. Davis chose to put himself in a career where he helped gangsters and money hungry divorcees get rich. Tonight proved their difference more than anything. Dallas never, ever would have allowed what transpired to occur.
He tossed a look at his harlot of a granddaughter, her blonde hair seductively messy as she typed away at her cell phone. Davis lounged on the couch, his arms crossed behind his head like he hadn't just had his cock buried in his sister's pussy. Sara, his darling daughter...she was the only one that wore her guilt. When their eyes met, she crumbled like the walls of Jericho.
Good, Dallas thought self-righteously. She should be ashamed.
His wife, Esther, was making all sorts of ruckus in the kitchen. She was in her element, dealing with problems the way she always did...by ignoring them.
"Essie," Dallas yelled, cutting through Sara's sobs. "Can you join us in the sitting room?"
"J-just a minute!" she called, her voice overly cheerful. "I'm just whipping together some breakfast."
"At 2am?"
"Just let her do what she needs to do," Davis snapped, shooting daggers at his father. "Just leave her alone."
Dallas felt the rage bubble in his gut. "When I need tips about my wife, you'll be the last person I ask." He leaned forward in his chair. "I wonder what your wife is thinking now. I wonder if she's as disgusted by you as I am."
His son’s eyes flashed. “Claudia is dead. She doesn’t think anything anymore.”
Sara’s sobs tapered off into sniffles. “The dead still live on and can judge right and wrong for themselves.”
"We're all adults, Dad,” Davis scoffed.
"That doesn't make it right!" Davis hollered, slamming a fist on the wooden table. The rattle echoed through the room. Jess glanced up, her aqua eyes wary. He'd known she was gonna be trouble from the minute he saw her.
Back when Davis announced his engagement, Dallas found instead of his attention being on the to-be bride and groom, his eyes were drawn to Claudia’s daughter, Jessica. She was seventeen then, but had the body of a woman. She'd worn a polka dot dress that clung to her frame like glue, taunting and teasing him.
Even now, he found himself wondering what her body looked like...tasted like.
He gave his head a good shake. "I'm just trying to figure out what happened." He cast a look at Sara. "I just want to know where I went wrong."
Sara lurched from the couch then, spilling at his feet. "I'm sorry Daddy," she wailed. "I don't know what came over me." She gripped his knees and his mind raced back to times when he bent her over his lap and gave her a good tanning. Were her cheeks still as smooth as he remembered?
Dallas closed his eyes and said a prayer for strength. Now wasn't the time to indulge sinful thoughts...not when his family was drowning in lust and debauchery.
Sara looked up at him, her eyes bloodshot and globs of snot careening from her nose. "Please, Daddy. Please forgive me."
"Ugh," Davis moaned. Dallas watched in horror as his son looped an arm around his stepdaughter's shoulders. "If you're expecting me to fall on my knees and repent my sins, you're going to be waiting for a long, long time, Dad."
Dallas made a thin line with his lips. "I'm very disappointed. In all of you."
"Par for the course," Davis shrugged.
Dallas shook with confusion. Davis had always confounded him with his blatant disregard for the importance of religion, but this was something else. This was evil...devil in the flesh.
His eyes flitted to Jess. She looked him straight on, a look of amusement on her thick lips. She twirled a tendril around her finger. "I'm with Davis on this one. What we have-" She paused and turned to Davis, her fair face full of adoration. "-to an outsider, I'm sure it seems like, gross. And inappropriate. But we care about each other."
Dallas shuddered, turning away. "You're a jezebel. A succubus. And I'm not gonna sit here and pretend otherwise." He rose to his feet, straightening his tie.
Sara looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "You have to forgive me, Daddy. Please?"
He leaned down. Sara'd been a handful growing up, but she'd changed over the last few years. Or so he'd thought.
His hand froze right above her head. He couldn't lie. He couldn't pretend it was okay.
He pulled his hand away, turning to go. "Your mother and I will be at the cottage." He paused in the foyer. "Let's go, Esther."
"But I-"
"Now!" he thundered. He felt his cock swell in his slacks when his wife immediately scurried from the kitchen, head bowed. He still held sway over someone in this morally decayed family. She pushed out the door, but Dallas paused, casting one last look of disdain over his shoulder. "I'll be back tomorrow. When I return, we're going to fix this mess."
He slammed the door behind him, hurrying out to his SUV. Esther was already inside and buckled, fiddling with the hem of her blouse. "Maybe we didn't really see what we thought we saw. It was dark and-"
"Our son was engaged in a threesome with his sister and daughter," Dallas said icily, turning the key in the ignition. A small voice whispered that they'd probably just pick up where they left off once they drove away. The voice sent shimmers of delight to his groin.
Dallas pumped up the radio as he circled the driveway and pulled onto the main road. "We're gonna fix it, Essie. We have to."
No Tears (Esther)
Esther Kensington stood in the kitchen, her movements robotic as she pressed the brew button. The water, cool and clear, tapered out like a leaky faucet until the brown grit oozed into the glass pot.
"Where's the coffee?" Dallas barked from the next room.
She swallowed back the comment that burned in the back of her throat and spat out a cheery, "Almost ready!" She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the aluminum stove and swiped at a tear. What had her mother always said? Tears are for the fragile.
But Esther was. Being married to Dallas was a full time job full of plastic smiles, conservative dresses, and lots of concealer. He'd taught her the meaning of fear...of loneliness. Every day he shattered her to pieces--but her children, her babies...they kept her together. They were the glue. But now-
"Maybe you should do a little less daydreaming and a little more coffee making." Dallas' voice was like a whip, snapping her back to attention. The timer on the machine was screaming.
"Oh dear!" she gasped, scrambling to take the pot off the boiler. "I'm sorry."
Dallas grunted, his universal response to most things. He had nothing to say about what they saw? No words of wisdom or strength that he so readily dished out to his congregation?
Esther tucked a gray tendril behind her ear as she reached for his mug and slowly poured his coffee. "Any cream?"
"No, just black," Dallas said, pulling out a chair at the table.
"I still have a bit of the pound cake from..." Her voice trailed off as her hand rattled, almost dropping his mug. Lemon pound cake was Sara's favorite. She'd brought over a couple of slices to surprise her. Esther had ended up being the one that was surprised.
She slid the mug toward her husband before pulling out a chair. "I just don't believe it."
"Ahem," Dallas said, looking at her with cold disdain. "Sugar."
"Ah," Esther said, biting her lip. "Of course."
She walked to the cupboard and pulled out the sugar container. She ran her thumb across the top, remembering when Davis would stand on a chair, up on his tippy toes, eager to help his mother cook. Even Sara passed her this same container a time or two. She felt weak--like all the air had been ripped from her lungs. "We need to talk about our children."
"Jesus," Dallas moaned. "I'm exhausted, Esther. Not now."
"Yes, but-"
"I said," he snapped, standing to his feet. "Not. Now."
"Then when?" Esther shot back, whirling to face him. "When are we going to talk about walking in on our daughter riding our son while he...licked our granddaughter?"
"That floozy is no granddaughter of mine," Dallas said through clenched teeth.
"Maybe not by blood, but we went to her highschool graduation. We stood by her side when her mother passed."
Dallas yanked Esther toward him, his talons digging into her arm. "And all the while she was plotting this, this sin against God."
Esther cried out and he released her, but her exclamation was more the result of surprise than pain. Dallas couldn't be serious-Jess was only eighteen. Sara, Davis...they should have known better.
"The way you're talking," she said, placing the sugar on the table. "You're talking like Jess is some sort of demon. A witch that enchanted Davis and Sara."
When he didn't respond, she looked down at him and saw the look. A look of stubbornness. Like he wouldn't be moved. "You can't be serious," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "She's just a girl."
As soon as the words came out she regretted them.
Dallas moved like the wind, jetting from his seat in the blink of an eye then rearing back. When the back of his hand made contact with her jaw, Esther tasted the familiar sting of blood. The pain echoed through her body until it brought her to her knees.
But her husband wasn't done. Not that quickly.
He wrapped her long, silver hair like a rope and yanked her back to her feet. "You think this is funny? I'm some sort of comedian?"
"No, Dallas! I just-"
A second smack cut her words off at the knees. It'd been weeks since he lost his temper. She'd enjoyed beautiful numbness, the quiet before the storm. But not that she was in the eye, thrashing back and forth as he pounded her, she didn't bother begging him to stop. Once he got in a mood, it was best to ride it out and hope he didn't kill her.
He finally released his grip on her hair, using it to massage his other fist, bruised and bloodied with her insurrection. She fell back to the floor, but there were no tears. She just sat in a tangle, staring up at the sugar container.
"Get up."
She winced as her aching body rose, every muscle crying out in pain. She went ahead and moved the coffee pot and plates to the side, then slowly lowered herself down, her breasts spilling from her red stained blouse onto the old oak table. Smooshed down, like countless peanut butter and jelly concoctions she put between wheat bread.
She felt nothing when he snatched up her skirt and yanked down her panties. But when he slammed his dick into her pussy, she let out a sob.
She closed her eyes and let the tears flow as he gripped her hips, crashing in and out of her...bombarding her like the frothy waves that lapped the sand outside of the tent. She could almost smell the incense, the salt, the lust.
Esther's eyes popped open as she swallowed another sob of agony. It wasn't because her pussy was being ravaged and treated like some hole in the back of a porn shop...She was in crippling torment now that she realized an uncomfortable truth.
When she thought about what she walked in on between her children, at the root it wasn't disappointment that swallowed her whole.
She was jealous.
Dance for Daddy (Davis)
Davis ruffled his hair with a sigh then beckoned Jess with a finger. "C'mere you."
Jess flashed him a smile, one of the ones that made him ache for her. But there was something different, cautious and wary. Davis eased onto the edge of the bed. "What's wrong, Jess?"
She glanced at him like he sprouted a third head. "What's wrong? Jesus, Davis." Her skirt swished back and forth as she paced. "This wasn't how this was supposed to feel."
"My father heads the most conservative church stateside," Davis chuckled. "I hope you weren't expecting him to bust out the champagne."
She flung a pillow at him, her eyes softening. "I knew he'd freak, but the way he looked at me...and Aunt Sara-"
Davis pushed off the bed and spun her once before bringing her in close. With her chest pressed against his he could almost hear her heart stamp out a beat. He clutched her small hand in his and rocked her back and forth.
She giggled, straining to look at his face. "I'm being serious, Davis."
"I know." He spun her again then dipped her. The line of her body made a seductive U as she bent back, her gold tendrils brushing the floor.
When she popped back up, he brushed her cheek, his eyes dead serious. "When it was just us-me, you, and Sara...how did that make you feel?"
Jess leaned in and exhaled. "Comfortable. Hot. Natural."
He rested his chin on the crown of her head as they swayed back and forth. "Then remember that, babe. You can't live for my dad. Or Toshi. Or anyone else. You have to live for yourself."
He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. Truth was, his father's words cut him to the bone. He'd looked at him like he was Lucifer in the flesh. He'd seen similar looks when he informed his father that he had no plans to go into the ministry. Or when he brought Claudia, a triple divorcee with an almost grown daughter, home to meet the parents. Still, nothing compared to the simmering hatred that festered behind his father's eyes an hour ago.
"How about we step this up a notch?" Jess' grinding motions shook him from the guilt. Her seductive rhythm washed away the uncomfortable meeting, and replaced it with an uncomfortable swell in his pants.
He moved to unbutton his fly, but Jess stopped him. "Not yet." A mischievous gleam colored her sky blue eyes. "I'm in a dancing mood."
She strutted to the far corner where a wicker high back chair sat. It scraped the floor, but all Davis heard was the thunderclap in his chest. Was this really happening? Was his little girl gonna dance for him?
Jess answered his silent question by swiveling the chair then crooking her finger. "Have a seat."
Davis licked his lips and obliged. "What do we have here?"
"A little surprise." Jess walked to the bedside table, shuffling through her purse. After pulling out her cell and powering it on, she slowly unzipped her dress as music poured from the speakers.
He vaguely remembered the tune. "All that jazz" or something another. She'd blasted it from her room for weeks. Jazz was one of the few courses she actually attended. "I know this music. From your class," he said aloud.
Jess nodded as she turned around, flipping her hair so Davis could get a full view of her breasts. "Homework assignment."
She slowly moved her hands down, spreading her fingers as she leaned down. Davis sucked in air when she gripped her nipples and gave them a good firm squeeze. She rocked her hips back and forth, making her globes shimmy in time. "You like what you see?"
Davis wanted to take her right then, show her how hard she made him with just a smile. His cock yearned to fill the touch of her. "Yes. Very much."
She did a few more moves, spinning around and shaking her hot ass in his face. Davis bit his lip as his rod thumped in his pants with each of her twirls and whirls.
"And now for the finale," Jess said thickly. She threw one leg up and eased into Davis lap. As she shook and danced, it was all Davis could do to not lift her and take her to the bed.
But whenever he touched her, she'd grip his hand and shake her head demurely. The cat and mouse drove him wild. His whole body pulsed with longing.
He exhaled, his body crying out in relief when she reached down and unbuttoned his fly.
"You're hot for me?" she asked, her lips quivering.
Davis used his free hand to pull her in, swallowing her mouth whole. His tongue swirled and flitted over hers. He knew he was making hungry moans but he didn't care. Jess took him back to a time when dinosaurs roamed the earth. He didn't want or care about anything besides the way their bodies felt together.
For a painful moment Jess pulled away, long enough to free his cock. She pushed two fingers in her cunt and the sloppy sound it made pushed a stream of precum out the head of Davis’ swell.
Jess used her right leg as her post and gripped the back of the chair as her left leg swung around. She threw her head back as Davis slowly guided himself inside. It took all he had to not blow his load right then and there. He could feel her desire squeezing him, every breath magnified. Her pussy was so wet, smacking on his cock as she bounced up and down. Her breasts swung in his face and he gripped them tight, letting out a growl of ecstasy as he flicked the rock hard peaks.
"Suck on it," Jess begged. "Suck on my tits."
Davis buried his face in her breasts, taking her nipple in his mouth.
"You two are disgusting."
Davis' cock cried out in protest when Jess swung around, jerking her tit from his grasp. He cried out when he saw it was Sara that caused the interruption, a look of condemnation all over her face.
Jess leapt from Davis' lap, moving to cover herself, but he remained seated. "You can cut the bullshit, Sara. Dad's long gone."
Sara pawed at her chestnut hair, her face still blotchy from crying. "What we did was wrong Davis and-"
"Oh please," Davis snorted. He looked down at his dick and let out a sad sigh. "You may have everyone else fooled, but you and I both know that you wanted it. You begged me to fuck you. And you loved fucking Jess."
Sara sniffled. "You oughta be ashamed, Davis. I was lonely, impressionable-"
"No, you oughta be ashamed of yourself," Davis retorted. He looked at his younger sister, once a spitfire. A hellion. She looked so small and weak willed. "I'll take being a whore over a coward any day."
Sara looked at him like he'd just cursed her first born before she spun on her heels and stomped from the room. Once she was gone, Davis unzipped his pants, shrugging off the uncomfortable silence. He closed his eyes and jerked his cock, grinning when it snapped back to attention. "Now...where were we?"
But he didn't hear Jess giggle. He didn't hear anything. He opened his eyes.
Jess had pulled a t-shirt on and was tying her hair into a messy chignon. "Jess-"
"No," she said flatly. "This may be easy for you...walking away, dismissing people, not thinking about what everything means when the dust settles." She hesitated, like there was some struggle, battle beneath her flesh that Davis can't see. "Don't be so quick to judge, Davis."
Before he could stop her, she breezed from the room, leaving him alone with a hard-on and a sense of de ja vu.
Fallout vs. Bliss (Jess)
"Aunt Sara?" Jess knocked on the door, a little harder. "Sara, I know you're not asleep."
Jess stared at the closed door, dragging her fingertips across the wood. More than anything, she wanted to apologize. The whole threesome thing had been her bright idea. It'd made a twisted sort of sense a few hours ago. They all wanted each other...they were family. What better, higher connection was there than hooking up? What was the harm in it?
She gave her head a good shake at the last bit. She was sounding more and more like Davis. That by itself was crazy. It hadn't been too long ago that Davis was in her head, sounding like a broken record as he whined about her going to class and wasting her potential. Now he was all about following her instincts.
Jess turned and padded to the kitchen. She'd listened alright--marched down to the abortion clinic like she was going out for a latte. She'd kept marching in time, flying out the next day to be with her stepdad. The whole thing would be freaking hilarious if it weren't reality.
She swiped at a fallen tendril as she pulled out a milk carton and took a swig, not even bothering for a cup. Not even thinking she brought her hand to her stomach and rubbed it with soft and slow strokes.