Summary: Breakfast at the Potter house.
WARNINGS: PWP, Incest (parent/sibling), Photo Kink, Breeding Kink, submission, food play
Two Years Later
Dahlia Potter enters the family kitchen to find breakfast going on, as usual.
“Yes! Yes! Yessss—” Mum is crying as Harry has her bent over the kitchen table—which she’s only managed to get half the meal on before being interrupted. “Fuck me, darling! Fuck me with your big cock!”
Dahlia rolls her eyes at their antics. Harry hasn’t even bothered to get his trousers and pants all the way down his arse, but she can catch peeks of his long, glistening cock every time he pulls back and then jerks himself into Mum with brutal thrusts. For her part, Mom’s maternity dress is flipped over her hips and one large tit is popped out of the low-cut bodice. It jiggles as she’s fucked, and her rounded belly brushes against the table top as Harry grips her hair and uses it to give her an even more punishing cock ride. Ever since Mum got pregnant, she’s been positively insatiable. More so than usual, even. And Harry, knowing very well that the baby is his, can’t stop indulging her, like he’s trying to knock her up all over again. Dahlia admits to some jealousy—she loves Harry’s cock too, and Mum has been such a hog lately—but mostly she just wishes her brother would let Mum lay out the eggs and bangers before he introduces his own “banger” into the meal.
Though Dahlia concedes that there are few things better than laving at her brother’s “banger” first thing in the morning.
“Good morning,” Dahlia calls over the sounds of slapping flesh and creaking table legs. Because she is a dutifully daughter and sister, she gives Mum’s back a stroke and takes a moment to slip Harry a quick, tongue-heavy kiss as she moves to the stove to fetch the kettle.
It isn’t enough for Mum.
“Dahlia, darling,” she coos. “Climb up on the table and let Mummy lick your cunt. I need my children on both ends.”
“I just got dressed,” Dahlia complains. “And I’m hungry.”
“As if you couldn’t just flip up that little skirt and be ready,” Harry scoffs. “Do you even own knickers anymore?”
“Not since you keep stealing them all,” Dahlia shoots back.
Harry grins, not refuting it, as he gives their mum’s plump arse a playful slap and continues to buck into her. Harry collects knickers like he collects dirty photographs—trophies to mark his conquests, mostly of his mother and sister. Dahlia has had her knickers filched from her, his dick in her, and a camera clicking away, capturing it all, more times than she can count.
Mum is moaning in horny protest—though whether from Dahlia’s refusal to play or Harry’s smacks, Dahlia can’t be certain—when Dad finally strolls into the kitchen.
“Ah. Starting early today, I see,” he says.
Dahlia thinks her father is the best, strongest, sexiest man alive. When they’re alone, Dahlia calls him “master” and wants nothing more than to fulfill his every pleasure, but Mum always rolls her eyes at that because she knows Dahlia will fulfill just about anyone’s pleasure. The submissiveness in the Potter women is strong, and Dahlia has it most of all.
As James reaches Dahlia, she looks up at him with sultry welcome.
“Good morning, master,” she whispers.
James greets her with a long, thorough kiss and a possessive hand cupping her tight bum. “Good morning, my pet. Did you sleep last night with the dildo up your arse as I instructed?”
Dahlia nods obediently, licks up his jaw line. “Of course, master.”
It hadn’t been exactly comfortable, but Dahlia had gotten pleasure out of following the order. Besides, she knows her father is only doing it to prepare her. Her uncles are expected over tonight, and Dahlia knows full well that there is nothing her father and Uncle Sirius love more than double-teaming her arse together. She can’t always manage it, but when she can, it is almost a guarantee that she’ll win herself huge dumps of delicious cum from her very favourite people.
With Mum breeding and monopolized by Harry, Dahlia is almost always the center of the family orgies lately. Her slut side loves it, can’t get enough of being shared and dominated, tossed around and used like the fuckdoll she craves to be. She thinks about it now and already feels like cumming.
And speaking of cum…
Dahlia’s hand drifts down to her father’s crotch. She rubs there, giving him her best pouty look.
“I’m hungry,” she complains. “May I please have some topping for my toast?”
James grins, hands already moving to his belt. “Of course, my pet.”
Dahlia presses down the lever on the toaster where Mum had already set up two slices before apparently being waylaid by Harry. As the device begins to heat up, Dahlia drops to her knees, her very favorite position. She nuzzles her father’s crotch as he works to get his trousers and pants down. When he finally fishes out his big cock, it’s only half-hard, but Dahlia knows she can take care of that quickly.
She does her best work on her knees, after all.
“Good girl—yes—” Dad praises, sucking in a sharp breath when Dahlia takes him into her mouth. She gets her hands on him too, pumping his shaft as her mouth and tongue circle his cock head. In the background, Mum is still crying out for Harry to keep fucking her.
Dahlia knows just what her father likes, everything from the sensitivity of the slit in his cockhead, to the way he gets off on the image of his balls teabagging her face. He likes a finger—if not something bigger—in his arsehole as he’s sucked off, and he loves to come on her tits and face more than he likes to see her swallow (though he’s also keen on watching her cumswap with Mum). He loves to be rough with her, and loves even more when she’s surrounded by cocks and gets unloaded on by all of them, but they would have to save that for later with her uncles. For now, Dahlia does her best to stimulate him quickly, knowing the toaster timer is clicking down and her toast will only keep warm for so long.
She wanks Dad’s cock with one hand and fingers him with the other. All the while she sucks and bobs his full length down her greedy throat, listening to the sounds of her brother grunting and her mother crying out in ecstasy behind her. Dahlia wants ecstasy, too. She imagines Mum eating out her pussy like she’d suggested. Imagines being sandwiched between her parents like she’s been so many times before. Imagines the day when she too will get to be fucked and bred by the men in her family, maybe even to the complete bewilderment of some cuckhold husband they’ll find her. Dahlia admits that, though she’s always wanted to do the somewhat scandalous thing of marrying Uncle Sirius, keeping the incest lines pure and her place as daughter fuckdoll for all in place, there is something equally compelling about marrying some clueless bloke who would deliciously never know she was a secret slut who can’t get enough incest cock from her father, brother, and de facto uncles. There’s still years yet to decide, but the possibilities are titillating.
Her fantasies have distracted her, and Daddy isn’t pleased. She chokes a little as he grabs hold of her head and takes over the control, bucking into her face with jerky pumps of his hips.
“Good slut,” he says once she finds rhythm again, his heavy balls knocking her chin. “Such a good little cocksucker. Take Daddy’s prick down that pretty throat. Choke it down—yes, just like that. Merlin, Daddy loves you, my needy little whore.”
Dahlia gargles and slurps. Spit drips out of her abused lips. She gazes up at her father with watering eyes, the blowjob now rather rough and messy, and feels his grunted pleasure straight down in her pussy.
A few seconds later, the toaster springs up.
Dad increases his speed as the bread cools, and Mum and Harry seem to have reached a pinnacle, as well.
“HARRY—YES, BABY—oh—oh—”
“You want my cum, Mum? Beg for your son’s cum!”
“Cum in me! Knock me up again, darling! Feed me your creamy seed—”
“Here comes your treat, my pet,” Dad grunts, pulling his cock from her mouth and barely giving enough time to grab hold of the warm toast before he’s jerking his load atop the cooked bread. Dad chokes out his release, groaning her name, and Dahlia watches greedily as the bread fills up with sputter after sputter of his yummy spunk.
She can’t wait for a taste.
And, you know…maybe she’ll let Mum have a little taste of her too after all. Dahlia is nothing if not a sharer.
Just another typical morning at the Potter house.
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