My Dad, My Son, and Me

It is time for the secrecy and hypocrisy to end: any woman who has been in a long-term relationship with a man knows about male bodily urges. Therefore, many a dutiful daughter masturbates her widowed father, and many a loving mother masturbates her teenage son. I am proud to fall into both categories, as well as performing full wifely duties for my husband.

Although he lives quite nearby, I stayed a weekend with Dad about six months after Mum died. On Sunday morning, I took him a cup of tea, but walked in to see his morning wood poking out of his pyjama flies. He tried to push it back in, but in that moment I felt really sorry for him, all on his own but still getting erections after a lifetime of regular sex.

"Er, Dad, do you need a hand?" I asked. He blushed. "Don't be embarrassed," I said, "I've been married for nearly 20 years, so I know about these things." I reached down and pulled down his pyjama bottoms. His erection was really very impressive: as big and hard as my husband's, 30 years younger.

Away I went until he shot a remarkably heavy load all over his pyjama top. "That'll have to go in the wash," I grinned. There was a look of pure bliss on Dad's face as he said, "That was practically six months' worth. I'd only been dribbling up to now." I'd never heard him speak like this before, but then nor had I ever seen his cock before.

"You're a very good girl, and Chris [my husband] is a very lucky man. You know, your Mum used to do this for her Dad after her Mum died. I'd been meaning to ask you to do the honours, but I didn't know how to." "You knew she was doing it?" I was far more shocked by this than by what I had just done. "Knew about it?" he replied with a smirk, "She had two hands, didn't she?" Then we got dressed and went to church.

For more than a year now, I've gone round once a week to do various things around the house for my old Dad, including giving him a hand-job while he fondles my tits and pussy.

A couple of weeks later, I had a very similar experience with Mark, my 18-year-old son. Once again, I just breezed in with a cup of tea and to pick up his washing. When will I ever learn to knock?

Mark was stark naked and spread eagled on the bed, pulling away at what, again, was very striking penis, this time because I hadn't seen it since it was tiny and bald, decidedly unlike now. "Mum!" he shouted. I could have laughed out loud. "Don't you think I've ever seen it before? And don't you think I've ever seen a man doing that before? Let me assure you that I have," I told him.

He was dripping pre-cum; and we can't have that, can we? So I reached over and took hold of his dick (how lucky for him to have big dick genes on both sides) before he had a chance to resist. It didn't take long for him to finish off. "There," I whispered, "Isn't that better?" He nodded. I told him that I knew he beat his meat a lot (after all, I do his washing), but that once a week I'd like to do it for him, if that was what he wanted. He nodded again. So that's what we now do.

A couple of months later, Dad came to stay with us while some work was being done on his house. While he was dozing in front of the television, and Chris was out, I went up to Mark's room for his weekly seeing to. But while we were undressing each other, Dad came upstairs. In my anticipation and out of force of habit, I had foolishly left the door slightly ajar. Dad saw us just as I was about to start wanking Mark.

"You really are your mother's daughter," came his voice from behind me. I nearly died. But Dad went on, "She used to look after Steve [my brother] like that. She thought I didn't know, but secretly I always wanted to watch them at it." "Well, Grandad," answered Mark, "Do you want to watch us?" "Er, not exactly," Dad replied, unzipping his trousers and pulling out his raging boner. "I've been here nearly a week now, Sue, and things are getting desperate."

Mark's jaw dropped. "I look after him, too, since your Nan died," I explained, making it sound like the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. "Well," I went on, "I have two hands, haven't I? Get undressed, Dad. Mark's already fingering my pussy, so you can play with my tits." In no time, I had Dad in my right hand and fondling my jugs, and Mark in my left hand and fingering my slit.

So now once a week I wank Dad, once a week I wank Mark, and once a month I wank the pair of them while one of them plays with my tits and the other one pokes me (they seem to take this in turns intuitively). I would love to share with my darling husband the beautiful sight of a three-generation wanking session, and include him in it in some way; I particularly like the idea of Mark wanking him while I wanked Mark (and Dad). I also want my daughter, Claire, to know how to look after Chris, and Mark and Dad if necessary, if anything ever happened to me.

What with all that I know now, and Mark telling me that he's sure that his best mate is getting similar maternal treatment, it is clear that what I do is normal and natural, so let's be open about it!