Tags: Incest, Spanking, Analingus, Mf, ff, (Future Mff)
Part 1
It’s hard to believe that tomorrow makes fifteen years since the day that things changed for my sisters and myself. My parents were going to Hawaii for their twentieth wedding anniversary and they had left me in charge of the house and had told my two sisters Milly and Maddy the night before at dinner that while they were gone my authority was absolute and my word was Law around the house.
It was the second monday of summer vacation and I awoke to the smell of blueberry muffins. After glancing over at my alarm clock, I momentarily wondered what was going on. My parents’ flight had been scheduled to depart at 5:30 that morning, and since my alarm clock told me that it was 10:37, my parents had to be somewhere over the Pacific Ocean at that time. That left my sisters as to the reason I was smelling muffins. The problem was my mother didn’t like my sisters to use the stove because they almost always left a huge mess afterwards that she had to clean up after they left the kitchen. I sighed and got out of bed to see what mischief Milly and Maddy were up to.
After throwing on a pair of biking shorts and a tee shirt, I always slept in just my jockey shorts, I went downstairs. I pushed open the kitchen’s swinging door and walked into what looked like a white hurricane had blown through the room. There was flour all over the counters and stove, as well as on the floor and the kitchen sink. The sink held a half-dozen mixing bowls, plastic spatulas, and various other batter covered utensils. There were two muffin pans filled with muffins sitting to the left of the stove and an open tub of butter sitting in front of the pan. Four muffins were missing from the pan on the left and standing about three feet away from the pan stood my sisters; each of them buttering the two halves of a blueberry muffin, their clothes dusted with flour.
Before I say anything more about what happened after I walked into the kitchen and my sisters‘ mess, I think I should give a bit more context to what the situation was here. It was June 26, 1996; just a little over a month until my eighteenth birthday. Milly was thirteen and Maddy was twelve, and both were as rambunctious as redheads are supposed to be.
I think I should give a bit of background on myself and my sisters before I go any farther in this story. The three of us were something of a mystery to our parents. There had been no redheads on either side of the family for generations, and yet all three of our parents’ kids had red hair. (Trying to figure out where our hair color came from was one of the main reasons why I chose a career in genetics when I went off to college after I turned nineteen.) Our parents were also a bit unusual when it came to naming us as well. For instance, I was named after my parents’ favorite actor and my middle name is my fathe
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