First day of Summer Vacation.
Despite his father's mandate for him to get up early and find a summer job, Evan rolled on his back and stuffed another pillow under his head. It was the first day of the summer that he had expected to be the greatest in the history of his summers. He should have woken up excited, thinking about driving Dale Davis's race car, and Cindy letting him drive her car during track packing and hot laps. Instead, his first waking thought was: Why the hell did I kiss Deana in the first place?
His intention was good, wasn't it? He wanted to help her put things in perspective, make her forget about the tumbler, distract her from all the crazy thoughts she was freaking over. Or had his motivating force been something else?
When he saw Deana kiss Rebecca on her front lawn, his body had responded physically. Why wouldn't it? Seeing two girls making out was erotic. Was that true even if it was your sister? He didn't have a clue what a normal boy would think about seeing his sister making out with her friend. He wasn't even sure why he'd had such a powerful emotional response, or what emotion he'd felt. He did know he planned to go straight to the bathroom when he got home.
Somehow, he ha ended up at the kitchen sink, and found himself into hot water before he had a chance to understand what was going on. The truth was, if his mother's ass hadn't turned him from his course of action, he would have emptied his balls in Deana's underwear, and his guilt would have prevented him from understanding anyway.
The next day in his car, while Deana told him about her and Rebecca, his porn brain was spinning images of Deana and Rebecca naked, doing sexual things, but his heart was experiencing that same conflicting emotional turmoil he had the day before. He continued listening to his sister, trying to think of a way to help her—make her feel better. The thought came out of his lips before he knew he was thinking it. Deana's next words were a blur because all he could think about was how he had offered to kiss her. It wasn't something he'd planned to say, and to his knowledge, he had no intention of actually doing it.
When Deana's puckered lips approached his cheek, he blinked and saw Rebecca getting to kiss Deana. He turned his lips to meet Deana's because he was jealous and wanted to know what Rebecca had felt. It was amazing how fast the kiss changed from funny to amazing, then, just as quickly, to weird. When his sister fell back on the seat, he saw something in her eyes. It was a gaze he hadn't seen for a long time, but he recognized it, then he pretended he hadn't seen it. The incredible awkwardness that followed made him drive away from that shady spot on the dirt road. He quickly changed the focus of their conversation to Gloria and their mother.
The night at the top of the basement steps, Deana kissed him and he saw it again. It wasn't just in her eyes, he saw it in her heart and felt her the way he used to. He'd given new life to something he'd worked so hard to kill.
They were everything to each other, had always spent all their time together, and even shared a room until they were seven. By sixth grade, the first year they weren't in the same classroom, their innate love for each other had developed to the point that he knew she was crying; found her at recess and held her hand to make her feel better. Twins share a special bond, but theirs was compounded by their mother's death. It was like the spirit of their mother's love filled them, and fused their loving hearts. Nothing could keep them apart. The kids at school talked about how close they were, but he didn't understand enough to know why he should care.
It wasn't long before he understood. Before puberty, the signals he got from Deana made it clear how much she loved him. He loved her the same way, or at least that's what he thought. One day everything changed. He yanked her towel off the way he had done plenty of times before, but she didn't chase him and he didn't run. The image of Deana's naked body went into his eyes, through his brain and straight to his penis. That was the day he first tried masturbating, but only got a sore arm.
The first time his furious stroking finally produced something besides a full body quiver, he came out of the bathroom and Deana was standing there. She knew what he had been doing. He saw it on her face, felt it inside, and his embarrassment blazed on his cheeks. She giggled and told him it was okay, then she hugged him. He liked how she felt, the warmth she created inside his body, and he didn't want to let go. It was the same girl, using the same arms, pressing the same body against his, but now he knew—he realized his love had changed, grown deeper and demanded more.
He hugged her more often, held hands more and before he woke her up for school, he watched her sleep, fighting the urge to kiss her. They had always shared everything, so why not continue in that vein?
One day he was reading the bible, and he found the story of Lot and his daughters. In the story, they waited for darkness and went into Lot's tent, then they both had sex with their father without him knowing it was them. He got really excited by the story and started thinking of how to get Deana to read it, without being too forward. Fortunately, before he got very far with his plans, he learned that sex with a blood relative was one of the “Thou shall not...” that sent you to hell.
He couldn't do that to his sister, he loved her too much, but what could he possibly do to keep such a powerful desire at bay? Lusting for your former babysitter, even if she became your stepmother, had to be better than being in love with your sister. When Candy was just their babysitter, he loved her and she paid special attention to him. “You're my little man, Evan, I'll always love you,” she'd tell him. He was too young at first to know, but as soon as he was old enough to understand there was a difference between boys and girls, he knew Candy was beautiful. Even before puberty, he knew looking at her made him feel something, and that made it easy for him when he needed to redirect the desires that accompanied his erections. Candy seemed to appreciate his attention, and they grew closer.
Eventually, he stopped looking at Deana while she slept, stopped holding her hand, and tried to avoid her when she was in a towel. Candy, the babysitter, became the new person in his masturbatory fantasies, and his feelings started to change. Before he knew it, he was in love with her, and the evil things he wanted to do with Deana went away. Candy was an adult and a mother, so it was harmless fantasy. Nothing could ever really happen, and he'd grow out of it soon enough.
Actually, he wouldn't. When Candy was their babysitter, and he was a boy, his affection and attention towards her was fine. Maybe his changing love for her made him want to be around her more, sit closer to her on the couch and touch her more often, but in Evan's mind nothing had changed. His father saw things different. It wasn't obvious to Evan at first. The “Go fetch me...” trips that he came back from to find his father had taken his spot next to Candy on the couch, could have been nothing. Even all that stuff about not going in her room could have been normal. What wasn't, and sent a clear message to Evan, was his father cracking him in the head for calling her Candy while rubbing her shoulders. His mom tried to take up for him, but his father silenced her with a look and took her to their room.
Then one day, everything changed, again. He lost his cherry to one of Cindy's friends at the racetrack, and realized having sex was light years beyond imagining it. He started pursuing girls instead of fantasizing about the woman he couldn't have. He had girlfriends, played baseball, raced go-carts and followed Cindy's racing career. All his problems were solved and everything had been going along just fine. What happened?
Evan huffed and swung his legs off the bed. He'd loved both Deana and Candy inappropriately, and it had broken his heart when he realized he could never have either of them the way he wanted them. He pictured his mother's amazing breasts swishing side-to-side under her loose blouse, and relived the sensual hand washing, then pictured her laying on her bed and imagined sliding inside her body.
The memory of Deana's legs locked around his, pulling him between her thighs, and the way she looked into his eyes as her lips connected with his, made him shiver. His sister's passionate kisses were an incredible force that would be impossible to forget without a more powerful distraction. He needed to do something drastic to keep him safe. His heart couldn't handle being broken again and again, which is what would happen if things kept going the way they were. He could never have Candy, she was Mom now, and even if Deana shared his feelings, they could never have a relationship—not the way he would want it.
Rebecca had put her fat pussy on display for his personal viewing. She was interested in him, and the covert nature of fucking Deana's best friend would be a huge distraction. He got out of bed and started planning it while he got dressed.
Downstairs, a newspaper was opened on the kitchen table to the help wanted section. Evan glanced at it and called it looking for a job, then headed out the back door. It wasn't that he didn't want to work; he'd always been a hard worker and liked earning his own money, but he needed some Cindy time.
Cindy was four years older and drove a race car, so of course he idolized her, but it was more than that. His cousin could do all the things he wanted to do before he could, like driving, but she never had a big head about it. She took him under her wing and made him feel older than he was. When she was sixteen she'd take him to the movies with her friends. She was a goddess with a car, like a grownup who didn't treat him like a kid.
Evan didn't know what had changed, but his dad had been making it progressively more difficult for him to spend time with Cindy at the racetrack, and she never came to their house anymore. Maybe it was because she raced, or it could have been Aunt Julia was still mad at his dad for not making them go to church. A lot had changed since he started high school, but he was just starting to realize it. Having forts in the woods, playing ball and riding bikes was a simple, uncomplicated life that didn't lend itself to questions like, “Why isn't mom taking us to church anymore?”
His father had told him, “You're not spending the whole summer hanging around that race track with your cousin...” How dare he try and take that away? His father's trip to China couldn't have come at a better time. It was Cindy's last summer racing, and she'd be going to college before the season even ended. Fuck him, he thought, as he got on I-10 east. Cindy time would make him feel better.
For Jason, what should have been the glorious first day of summer vacation started with a groan. He couldn't wake up or go back to sleep. For at least an hour, he'd resisted both, flip-flopping from wanting to get his day started and wanting to find deep sleep. When he tried to get up, his brain told him he was too tired, yet when he resigned to sleep there was only half sleep. His body ached from laying on the bed too long, so he said, "Fuck it," and threw his legs off the bed. He moaned and sat up on the edge of the bed. It felt cold, but his sack was long and his testicles hung over the side of the mattress with his cock laying between them. It had been too hot under the covers. He leaned forward and rubbed his face.
Something has to change, he told himself. The night before, he caught Becky going from the bathroom to her bedroom without anything on. She said, "Oh, I didn't know you were up," as if that made it alright. He went to bed hard with his mind filled with fantasies, again. He knew imagining such things was dangerous, but he couldn't make it stop. Their past was gasoline and Becky kept throwing matches. It was her; he hadn't suddenly started noticing her just because Evan mentioned Deana's panties. If he was going to survive this summer with his promise intact, he had to put a stop to her “Oops” moments.
If their mother hadn't been home the previous night, he might have bent Becky over the bathroom sink and stuck his dick into her, or at least tried. That was the one thing they had never been able to do, except in his dreams. In the dream he had the previous night, Becky dropped the spoon and he rammed his cock into her. Their mother was screaming, “Jason, stop fucking your sister,” but he didn't, and Becky kept saying, “No, Mom, not yet, I have to cum first.” That sounded like something his sister would say.
He couldn't let any of his dreams come true, so he got up and went to find Becky. He'd tell her, “You have to stop flashing me, or else...” Or else, what? He didn't know, and that scared him.
Jason couldn't find Becky and his mother was at work, so he had the house to himself. The feelings that came with being home alone didn't support his mission. If his sister hadn't ruined masturbating for him, he could shoot a load on his mother's chair, and that would extinguish the fire burning in his balls.
Becky's bed was a disheveled mess, like the rest of her room, but that was its normal state. Jason looked at Papa, the bear he'd won for her, face down where his sister had been the last time he was in her room. He knew returning to the scene of the crime wasn't wise, yet he stood in the exact location. The carpet under his feet made his dick swell. He could see Becky's mound of chestnut fur in his mind. If she was there now, he knew blowing his load on the floor wouldn't be enough.
He picked up her pillow and pressed his face into it. His sister's scent connected his current brain to his brain three years ago. All his senses, desires and passions from back then became his current state of mind. His penis needed room to grow, so he pulled his zipper down. His cock fell, bounced and continued to straighten and rise.
It certainly wasn't the most evil thing he could think of, but it would definitely earn him a trip to the shrink if he got caught in the act. He put Papa on top of Becky's pillow, face down, ass up. His hard-on slipped between them and he grabbed the bear's stubby legs, pulling them to create more friction. In his mind he was holding his sister's pigtails, pushing into her face. She was doing what she couldn't the last time she sucked him, she was taking him down her throat.
The fur and the pillow felt better than he'd imagined, so he continued fucking Becky's bear in the ass. Getting off on her carpet might have gone unnoticed, but shooting a load on her pillow and beloved teddy bear wouldn't. He'd pull out, just like he used to promise Becky if she let him put it inside her. Fortunately, her tiny pussy hole never yielded to his dick knob, so she never had anything to worry about. Papa wouldn't be so lucky. Even after he realized it was happening, he continued to drive his cock. Friction was replaced by a warm slippery pleasure, and he knew Evan imagined fucking his sisters while he emptied his load in their underwear. Becky's pillow was her throat, taking his cum.
It sure would have been easier to hide the evidence if he'd cum in her panties. Too bad Becky didn't wear panties.
At the race shop, the smell of fuel, oil and rubber made Evan forget about his problems, but within thirty minutes, Cindy pulled a Deana and asked what was troubling him. She might have been worse than Deana about reading his mind. He couldn't let her know what his father told him, and there was no way he would mention the situation with Deana, so he considered telling her about his mother. When he played the conversation in his mind it started, “I want to fuck your Uncle John's wife so I don't do anything with—” He decided against it and tried to explain his mood in a general, roundabout, plausible way. He told her everything was changing so fast. Gloria was growing up and his relationship with Deana was changing. Then he told her, “You're giving up racing for psychology.” Cindy would definitely believe he was troubled about that.
Over the next hour, while doing stuff around the shop, Cindy proved psychology was a good career path for her. As she told him to stay with his dreams and work for them, it seemed like she knew things, knew his dad was turning the screws. “No matter what or who tries to discourage you, keep going if it's something you believe in,” she said.
After lunch, he finally got to pick her brain about the street stock cars and the drivers in that division. They talked strategy for his upcoming race. Porn star was definitely his second choice; he loved racing. It was a good thing Gloria had a double header because he wasn't going to make it back across the bay before her first game.
He told Cindy he had to go. She faced him, put her hands on his shoulders and inhaled deeply. Her hands moved inward to his neck, and those same black, penetrating eyes that Deana looked at him with held his attention. Finally she spoke, “Evan, if there is anything else...anything, you can talk to me...in confidence.”
“No. Nothing. Everything is good,” he said.
“Is Deana okay?”
“Sure, she's fine,” he said. “Got all A's as usual.”
He left for Gloria's game, spooked, wondering if Cindy actually knew something. The look on her face said she did, but that wasn't possible. He got back on I-10 going West and turned his attention to the tumbler, and how he was going to get her alone. Even if he didn't get to fuck her, trying would be dangerous fun, and a great distraction.
At the ballpark, Evan spent some time indulging Becky, then he regressed to younger times and climbed up the back of the bleachers. His mother and Miss Tonya were seated three rows from the top. He moved down and eased over until he was directly behind them. “Boo!” he said.
Miss Tonya jerked and squeaked with surprise. Candy said, “Some things never change. Not only did I hear you coming, but I expected it.”
“Darn,” he said.
“You could have warned me,” Miss Tonya said.
“Sorry, I wanted to spoil his fun,” Candy said. “He gets a thrill out of seeing me quiver and screech.”
Thrill, quiver, he thought, and didn't like how her words made him feel. He should have gone back to Becky instead of touching his mother's back. She responded to his hands with a groan that encouraged him, so he skipped her shoulders and went to her back, below her rib cage. He rubbed outward and rounded her sides. On Miss Tonya he would have found love handles, but his mother spent too much time working out. His hands slid over her tight strands of muscle. He was obviously a glutton for punishment.
Suddenly he was replaying those times he'd watched her exercising in a T-shirt tied under her breast, acting as a restraint for her melons. Her nipples always seemed to be hard back then. Man, he had a sexy babysitter. If he'd just been old enough while she was still Candy, the babysitter, then maybe they could have been lovers, and his father wouldn't have gotten her.
His fucked up porn brain took him back to the kitchen sink and reminded him how her flesh globes felt on his arms, then flashed her pussy in front of his eyes, and he was holding his dick in her room. He continued rubbing her back, thinking about how much things had changed since that day. The fact that his mother didn't know how he felt, and probably hadn't noticed his erection touching her, was irrelevant. He felt like they had shared an intimate moment, and he hated himself for initiating the events that were leading him back down Heart Break road.
“Mmmm, you always know how to take care of my bleacher back,” Candy said.
His mother's voice scared him. “It's the least I can do to repay you for being my cheering section all those years.” She's your mother, stop acting like she's Candy.
“Lucky you,” Miss Tonya said to Candy. “Evan, I was going to hire you to do some yard work...but...based on your mother's face, I might be better off getting a massage.”
Miss Tonya was a thirty-something single mom with bleach blonde hair, a chunky ass and big tits. She was the mother of Jayda, one of the Softball Sisters. Miss Tonya was the type of woman who said the first thing that popped into her mind without filtering it. He imagined that she showed her tits at Mardi Gras parades, and he liked her because of that. He'd be happy to rub any part of her, but he didn't take her seriously. “I'd be happy to do whatever you want. My father said I need to earn my own way this summer, whatever that means.”
“Well—” Miss Tonya started, but his mother gave her a look, and she finished with, “I need some stuff planted and my lawn needs to be mowed.”
“That'd be great,” he said. Maybe she'd let him plant the boner he was getting in her garden.
His mom said, “Evan, your sister is upset that you missed her first game.”
“I know, but I had—”
“I'm just warning you,” she said. “She played well, didn't make any errors, and actually caught a pop-up.”
“In the outfield, I think it's called a fly ball, Mom.”
“Don't be smart, you know what I meant. Her next games starts soon, so why don't you find her and make sure she knows you're here. I think she's over by the concession stand.”
There she goes again making it sound like a request. “Okay,” he said, and started down the bleachers.
Tonya waited until Evan reached the sidewalk before asking, “What was that all about?”
Tonya was the only friend Candy had who wasn't one of John's friends, and he didn't like Candy spending time with Tonya except at the ballpark. Tonya didn't like John, at all. Candy glanced at her friend. “What?” she said.
“What...for starters, why did you send Evan on a wild goose chase when he was practically giving you—”she lowered her voice—”an orgasm?”
“Don't Tonya me,” she said. “I saw your face...and then you sent him that way, when you know Gloria is over there behind the dugout. What's going on?”
It terrified her that Tonya saw it. “Nothing,” she said, “I just wanted to have adult time. I see the kids all the time.”
“Maybe you should have waited and married Evan?”
“Why would you even say something like that?”
“I've never seen John here rubbing your back, or making you smile the way you smile when Evan comes around.”
“John has a company to run,” Candy said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He's a boy, Tonya, just a boy.”
“In a few months he's considered a man, at least as far as...you know, the thing you're interested in, and if you're not, I am. He's a hunk.”
Candy's face flushed. “You're unbelievable. What kind of person do you think I am? You have a daughter...almost his age.”
“So,” Tonya said. “We started young and we did what we needed to do, for our daughters, but what about you. Do you ever get what you need? Are you happy? Have you gotten off lately...I mean really had a good one?”
“Oh, my god, is that all you think about? I can't believe you went there. I'm married! What am I gonna do, divorce him? Then what?”
“See, you're not happy. Are you?”
She wanted to cry and tell her friend everything, but not even Tonya could know. If people really were as sick as their secrets, she was terminal.
Evan walked towards the concession stand, replaying the previous ten minutes. The feel of his mother's body was still on his fingers and he realized how brazen he had been. Other than grabbing the ass meat that overhung the edge of the bleacher, there hadn't been a more sensual place to lay his hands. He couldn't believe he'd gone right back to her. Why was he acting that way?
When he couldn't find Gloria at or around the concession stands, he went to the block building with the restrooms and ran into Abigail, one of Gloria's teammates. "Have you seen Gloria?"
Abigail said, "Yup."
He frowned, and said, "Can you tell me where?"
"Nope,” she said. "But you can look over there." She pointed.
Kids, he thought and walked across the gravel parking lot toward the huge pile of dirt at the edge of the woods. He wondered if it was an endless supply of dirt, because it had been there as long as he could remember. It was the perfect place for kids to do things they didn't want to be seen doing. A bucket-loader had cut a cave into the backside of the pile. The crunch of gravel under feet always alerted them to stop smoking, peeking at nude women, kissing or worse, if you were lucky. He doubted he'd find his sister back there.
He stepped lightly, and took a course that had more packed dirt than stones. Hushed voices made him slow. He climbed up the front side of the pile, hoping to catch someone doing something they weren't supposed to do. Who didn't like to do a little spying? One of the voices was familiar, but it wasn't his sister's. The voices went silent, and he stopped climbing.
New sounds came over the pile and made his curiosity grow and his pulse quicken. Something he needed to see was happening, so he held his breath and peeked over the top. It was Jayda, her back was to him and she was squatting, sitting on her folded legs. At first he thought he'd caught her taking a piss, and that was something he might have been able to comprehend. Her pants were in a pile next to her, and her knees were spread wide. The scene became clearer and his comprehension faded. The tail of Jayda's softball shirt blocked his view of the face, but the body and legs of the girl were obvious. His little sister's closest friend was getting her pussy eaten out by another girl, practically in public.
Jayda whimpered as her fingers clutched her knees and her knuckles whitened. She started rocking her body and the sounds she made weren't anything he associated with a young girl. None of his girlfriends ever made that much noise. Then again, none of them ever rode his face like that behind the dirt pile, or anywhere else. Jayda arched her back and increased the speed of her undulating pelvis.
The volume lowered, but the panting suck of air was frantic. Jayda stiffened and made a sound that he thought would have dogs howling. She went forward, back and forward again before coming back to rest on the girl's face. For a quick second he'd seen the other girl's face, but it wasn't enough to identify her. He thought he was relieved it wasn't Gloria.
“I told you you could do it, and you did it...did it great,” Jayda said.
The other girl said, "You gonna do me now?"
"I don't have time before my game. Next time, I promise."
For reasons he didn't understand, Evan was embarrassed and didn't want them to know he'd seen, so he backed down the hill and hurried away. Gloria wasn't like that, he assured himself.
After Gloria's game was over, the team huddled around the coach. Evan waited for the encouragement and instructions to finish. The coach made a point of praising his sister for, “A one-hundred percent improvement.” She went on to say, “You did great, keep it up.” He was proud.
When the coach said, “See you Friday at practice,” Gloria headed straight to him. He reached around her body and lifted her by the butt. Her legs and arms went around him like a monkey on a tree. He kept his hands firmly on her ass to prove to himself that nothing had changed. Things might have changed with his mother and Deana, but Gloria was still his baby-girl, regardless of what had happened in his sleep. He needed to be able to touch Gloria, even her ass, without feeling those things Candy and Deana made him feel.
Gloria smelled of sweat, dirt and grass. "You did great!" he said, and put her down.
"Thanks," Gloria said, with a huff. "You shoulda been here for the first game. I hit the ball, got on base and played left field."
“Holy field reversals, Batman,” he said. “I'm sorry I missed it, I had something I had to do, but I saw all of your second game. How about I take you for ice cream to make up for it?"
Her child-like excitement convinced him his sister wasn't like Jayda or the other girl whose face she was sitting on. The whole wet dream thing was behind him, and Gloria was still his little sister.
Fifteen minutes after Becky came home, Jason had everything he'd say clearly laid out in his head. Their mom would be gone for at least another hour, so he would have plenty of time to give his sister hell for tormenting him.
He walked into the kitchen and sat opposite his sister at the table. Becky's chestnut pigtails were sticking out from the sides of her head. He was prepared to deal with the problem. Hopefully she wouldn't derail him by saying, “Did you cum on Papa?”
"Hi," Becky said, with a smile.
He didn't like the smile or tone of her voice, and the tents her candy-corn tit-caps were creating made him stare. He could have sworn they were growing in front of his eyes. He looked away, and said, "Becky.” His sister ignored him and continued peeling a banana. “That banana is green."
“They're better that way.” She licked the tip, then wrapped her lips around it.
The speech he'd planned would have to wait. Becky's lips were fuller and her mouth was bigger, but it formed the same circle he remembered, and his dick head could still feel that first hot, powerful suck. It was like liquid fire. Becky made a gagging sound, pushed the fruit deeper, then her red lips clung to the slick banana as she drew it out. “What the hell?” he mumbled.
She wiped spit from her chin and said, “Mm, what a rush, I love that feeling," then she inhaled most of the banana.
Dammit, he shouldn't have come out of his room. "What?"
"Ohhh, that's good, I swear,” she said. “When it gets stuck, right here.” She wrapped her hand around the middle of her neck. “My body jerks like it's trying to save itself, but I keep pushing and that triggers something and my mind goes blurry. My throat gulps, and it goes deeper. That's when the exciting panic thing happens, when I can't breathe. My body gasps to save itself, but I push it deeper and my throat gets all juicy, like it has an orgasm. Then there's no limit, I can take all of it and it gets me so excited I almost get off. You should try it.”
He stared at her in disbelief. "No," he said, "I shouldn't. Is something wrong with you?”
“I don't think so,” she said. “Is there something wrong with you?”
Of course there was. “Why do you have to do those things in front of me?”
“I was here first,” she said, “besides, you love it.”
“No, no I don't,” he lied.
“Whatever,” she said, and the banana plunged into her throat. “Fuck, I broke it. I need a real dick, a big one.”
She was looking right at him and his dick was swelling, but he wasn't going to take the bait. “Do you ever think about what you're gonna say before you blurt it out?”
“I must if I said it,” she said.
“Most people filter what they think, especially when it's about their sex life. I'm your brother.”
“Don't act like you wouldn't love it...love me sucking you. You always did.”
The longer he stared at her wide mouth and wet lips, the more he agreed with her. His dick had stretched down his thigh and poked out the leg of his shorts. If she hadn't broken her banana he could have kept watching, pretending, and jerked off under the table. What should he do now?
She was standing next to him before he could form any words. Her muffin-top tits had transformed into dunce caps, and the dark brown of her nipples radiated through her T-shirt. Three years ago, all she had were little bumps. Maybe he could let her suck him just this one time so they could get it out of their systems? He looked down at her bare feet and followed her pale legs up to the bottom of her shirt. One inch, he estimated, was all that hung past her crotch. His brain showed him a picture of what he'd seen the other night in her room, and his dick jerked up, then fell back to his leg. Apparently his dick and his arm shared the same tiny brain because his hand was rising. “You should at least wear panties...if you're gonna walk around in just a shirt.” Her wet pussy-lips kissed his palm.
“It's more exciting this way,” she said, and pushed her groin forward.
“You know this is wrong,” he said, and tightened his grip. His middle finger slipped between the slippery flaps of flesh. They surrounded his fingers and inflamed his lust.
She grabbed his wrist with both hands and rocked her pelvis, grinding the digit into her deep channel. “I know,” she said, “but who cares?"
He said, "Mom cares," and poked the tip of his finger into the tight ring that had always rejected his cock.
"Mmmm, she's not here." She lifted her leg across his lap, straddling him.
Her chest was in his face. He pushed his chair back and looked down at the shirt stretched across her groin. Her narrow slit reached around her pubic bone, cutting into the front of her well defined mound of chestnut fuzz. “Becky, what are you doing?”
She leaned back with her hands on the edge of the table, lifted her body and put her feet on his chair. She looked down, pushed her ass onto the table and spread her legs. “It's exciting, isn't it?”
He eased his chair back and leaned forward. It was exciting, and stupid. His tongue traced the glistening slit several times before burrowing in at the bottom and opening the full length of her lips. Her bulging clit was easy to find and he flicked it with the tip of his tongue. His sister moaned and rolled her pelvis. The fine hairs on her mound tickled his nose and the tang of her juices attacked his taste buds. His hand jerked furiously at his throbbing cock while he thrust his tongue into her body, where he wanted his dick to be.
“Fuck, that's good,” Becky said, and spread her legs wide. “You remember exactly how I like it.”
Her clitoris was plump and throbbing. He flicked it hard and Becky whimpered. He shoved his hands under her, grabbed on to her ass and lifted her into the thrusts of his tongue. She was the same girl and it was the same pussy he'd licked three years ago, but nothing else was the same. This wasn't experimenting, playing or testing their limits. They had both matured and become more aware of what they needed, and Becky was determined to get what she needed.
His finger slid easily into her tunnel, and his sister bucked, riding it. He was engrossed in the slippery warmth and amazed by how her body responded to his probing and licking. He pumped his finger in short, quick jabs and battered her sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue.
“Ahhh, oh, yeah, oh, yeesss,” she moaned. “Shit, shit, shit, you still know how to make me cum, Big Brother.”
Becky's fingers were twisted in his hair, pulling his mouth into her. The speed of his finger and tongue increased and Becky's legs closed, opened and closed tight on his head, silencing the sound of her cries. He pulled her into his face, ramming as much tongue as he could inside her. She flooded his mouth with so much of her warm juices that he thought she was pissing. He sucked it up and drank her orgasm.
When he could hear again, Jason looked up at his sister's satisfied grin, and said, “You know this is still incest.”
“That's what makes it so good.”
“Yeah, I know, but if we get caught again, you're taking the rap this time.”
"Of course, but we won't get caught," she said, and got off the table. “Stand up.”
“For what I've been waiting three years to do again.” Becky knelt in front of him, pulled his shorts down and looked up with wide eyes. "Wow, you've grown...a lot. Damn, your balls are so smooth. I love 'em without hair. So much better to suck on.” She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and the other above it. She lifted until his nut-sack touched her lips. “What a mouthful."
She slurped the first testicle between her pursed lips and he whimpered, then his knees almost buckled when the second nut popped into her suck-hole. The sensation tore him apart. He wanted to make her stop, but didn't want to miss out on the pleasure. She'd suck one nut into the top of her throat and flip the other around with her tongue, then switch. His own sister was sucking the hell out of his balls and jerking him vigorously with both hands, what could be better. He thought he might blow his load on top of her head.
With one long slurp, Becky stretched out his sack and let his balls pop out of her mouth. His dick stiffened and curved upward as she squeezed down on the middle of the shaft. She looked it over and said, “You got a porn cock, I swear.”
He stared past his erection at Becky's eager face. “Porn cock, what?”
“Yeah, a big fat, porn cock.” She tilted her head all the way back and laid his dick across her face. "This is gonna be way better than a banana!"
Becky's tiny hands pulled his cock down, pushed his foreskin back, fully exposing the dense, purple bulb, and licked it like an ice cream cone. "Mm, you really are my Big Brother.”
"This is so wrong," he mumbled to himself, knowing it felt so right.
Becky said, "I know," and opened wider than he thought possible.
When her hot, wet mouth closed on his cock head, a shiver tried to go in two different directions and his body gave one good jerk, then it stiffened. She sucked so hard it tingled, while her tongue slapped the nerve center of his dick's brain. He moaned and flexed his fingers, searching for someplace to put his hands. "You learn how to do that with a banana?"
"No, I've sucked a bunch of dicks trying to find one as good as yours," she said.
Most brothers wouldn't want to hear about their kid sister sucking dicks, but it excited him, and he didn't just want to hear about it, he wanted to see it happen. “Did you find one?”
“I might have,” she said, and shoved him into her mouth.
"Ahhh." He felt that place she had told him about, where it got stuck in her throat. Her eyes watered, her body jerked and his cock head slid further into her. He saw the fear in her eyes, the desperation, the need for air, and her throat gulped him in. His sensitive knob was being massaged by her undulating wind pipe and drool spilled off her chin and soaked the front of her shirt. He grabbed his own ass and pushed deeper and deeper into his sister's stretched mouth. Her lips formed a perfect O gasket around his shaft.
Becky adjusted the angle of her head and the resistance weakened. He shoved forward and hit the second wall that was supposed to keep cock heads out of her stomach. Everything tightened, Becky's eyes bulged and a rush of air and spit blew past the seal her lips had formed. Another inch disappeared and he knew he had to be in her stomach. She pulled back, still sucking hard, drawing more blood into his bulging veins. His flesh was soaked, shining with her throat's orgasm and Becky slammed her face back onto his rod.
She cupped his heavy balls with one hand and used the other to pump his cock in rhythm with her bobbing head. He figured he was going to hell anyway for trying to cram his dick into Doc Davey's dog, why not face fuck his sister at the kitchen table. He held her pigtails like handlebars to control the speed and depth, wondering if he should tell her when he was going to blow his load.
"Ahhh, here it comes." Her throat gulped on his bloated dick head and his sperm rushed from his balls into his sister's stomach. He stiffened, shook head to toe, pulled back and filled her mouth, then rammed himself back inside her body.
The sound was barely heard over his grunting and Becky's slurping, but he felt the hot spits of fluid on his feet. His sister arched backwards until she faced the ceiling and he saw her despondent eyes roll back. The rushing splash on linoleum was unmistakable and his bare feet were being bathed in his sister's piss. “Becky, what the fuck, stop, stop that.”
The volume and power of the stream only increased, and Becky let out a long moaning sigh. “Ahhhh, fuuck yeah.” The piss flow ended abruptly, then her splayed crotch fired one long burst followed by two quick squirts.
He looked down at the pool of golden liquid around them and asked, “What is wrong with you?”
“I couldn't help it...it just happened.”
“It just happened, peeing on the kitchen floor, like when you peed on Paula's book bag?”
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go like that,” she said, and stood up. “I only wanted to squirt a little, then stop. Usually that's enough to get me off, but sometimes when I hear that splashing and feel the hot burst going over my pussy-lips and trickling down towards my butt I can't stop. I can't make it stop, and I have one, an orgasm. That's what happen to her book bag, at first I was only gonna go a little before anybody saw me, but I got so excited...Mm, it was so bad it did something to me and I started getting off on it.”
“Wow, is that why you never wear underwear, so you can pee whenever...wherever?” he said.
Becky tilted her head thoughtfully. “No, um, not completely. It does make it easier, but it's because I get so sensitive sometimes I can't stand having anything touching me. Plus, it's exciting knowing I'm naked under my skirt.”
“You know you're not normal, right?”
She sighed. “It's not my fault I can get off taking a piss. You should try it, hold it until it hurts, then when you can't take it anymore, pee your pants. It's incredible.”
“Um, I'll pass.” So many of the things he'd seen his sister do over the years were making sense now.
“We all have our thing. You like chicks with dicks, and I get off on peeing where or when I'm not supposed to. Fetishes, I guess.”
“How would you know what I like?”
“You never clear your browser history, Dummy. You watch some strange shit.”
“You, you, ah, never mind,” he said. Was pissing to get off worse than letting a dog lick his balls or jerking off on his sister's floor while she slept or getting head from her? At least I didn't fuck her. “You gonna clean this up before mom gets home?”
“I will, but it's more satisfying when I can walk away knowing someone is going to find it and scratch their head wondering what happened.”
He consoled his conscience with the knowledge that his sister was at least as twisted as he was. Now he had to get Evan to do Candy, Deana or Gloria, so he wouldn't feel like the only person who committed incestuous acts. “I'd like to hear more, but mom's gonna be here soon, get busy, and remember, this can't happen again. It shouldn't have happened at all.”
“Of course,” she said. “Will you get me the mop bucket?”
When Evan and Gloria got home, he gave her a piggyback ride into the house, something that hadn't happened for too long. “Here's the superstar," he said.
"You did great, Sweetheart," Candy said, "but you smell. Go take a bath before you lay on anything."
“Thanks,” Gloria said, with a huff and stomped out of the room.
His mom faced him. The sultry evening had flattened her hair and most of her makeup had been rubbed off. His mother had been transformed back into the babysitter, and the passing thought he had at the ice cream place became a full scale assault on his mind. He used to love it when she came to his games and cheered like crazy for him. He was proud to introduce her to all his friends, thinking of her as his girlfriend, and they were all jealous because she was beautiful.
"Thanks to you she did great," Candy said. "Thank you for coaching her. You're good to her, good for her, thanks."
His mom's hands were on his waist. His eyes burned. "Practice helps," he said.
“Jason's sister sure was making her intentions clear.”
“Jeez, yeah, she used to make me nuts at their house, wouldn't leave me alone. Silly crush, but she's over it.”
Candy chuckled. “She might be over the silly part, but she's got something else on her mind now.”
He didn't want to have a conversation about Becky's flirting. “Why is it always the kids...never the girls I'm interested in?”
“You're a hunk, lots of girls are interested,” she said.
Yeah, my sister's best friend, my best friend's sister and maybe my own sister, he thought, but not the woman I've been in love with for ten years. “Seems like only the girls who are too young, kids.”
“Evan, kids, girls, they turn into young ladies, women before you know it. Don't overlook what's right in front of you for someone out there who you think is what you want.”
His mother's words confused him. “Sure, okay, Mom,” he said, and went straight to his room. Was she telling him to do Becky because he couldn't have her?
Candy went to her office thinking about Becky's blossoming body, her calculated posturing and flirtatious gestures. She could imagine herself, younger than Becky, doing those same moves to get an older boy's affection. It had worked and she knew in time, that young, sexual creature would get what she wanted from Evan. She envied Jason's sister and wished she could receive all of Evan's attention without a care. If she tried, there would be consequences beyond Tonya busting her like she had on the bleachers. There already had been years earlier. What kind of a man was jealous of a twelve-year-old boy, his own son?
Candy knew the answer, it was the man she married. Sally had told her he was a controlling asshole, yet she denied it. Sandra never said anything, but she didn't have to. Candy had seen things changing. She saw Sandra's frustration, unhappiness and the fear that crept in over time. If she hadn't been feeling guilty about letting John fuck her right under Sandra's nose, maybe she would have gotten away before it was too late.
Sandra's tragic death showed Candy John's true colors. He was a narcissistic prick. He had fucked her the very day his wife's body was put in the ground. She knew it was wrong, but he made her feel bad for not being there for him. He said he needed her love to help him through his loss. She hated herself for not fighting more. Sandra had started to fight him, but she never won. What could a teenage babysitter do? She didn't even have anywhere to go. Bobby and Sally had moved away without telling her, and her parents wouldn't even take her phone calls. Did she even have a choice when he told her they were getting married?
When Evan had put his hands on her waist it made her breasts buzz with sensation. She relived that disgraceful day at the sink. There had only been a sheer layer of material separating his arms from her tits. Her nipples had exploded to their most erect, sensitive state. He had taken her back to the days before John started keeping them apart. Evan had loved her the way she had always hoped to be loved by a man, then John took that away from her, like every other hope and dream she had as a little girl. Did that justify what she was going to do?
Candy had planned it, acquired the equipment and put it in position, then resisted long enough to come to her senses. There were so many things she couldn't do, or have, didn't she deserve this? If she satisfied her curiosity, knew for sure what Evan had pressed against her, there would be no need to take the next step. She locked the door and went to her computer. Her nervous excitement built like a powerful orgasm in her womb. If a feather fell the sound would have made her jump. The double click echoed in her mind and an image popped up on her computer screen. It's only Gloria, my own daughter, so this isn't a big deal, she told herself. It was a huge deal because she was opening a door into her past. John wouldn't like it if she reverted back to Candy, the babysitter.
The girl sitting in the bathtub wasn't the little girl Candy bathed years ago. Gloria's body had been changing, she'd seen it start at ten with small breast hills. At eleven, her butt started pushing out round, shapely cheeks and her breasts were sizable. Now the girl reclining in the water had large, beautiful tits that were capped with plump, light brown nipples. Candy pinched her own nipple and trembled.
There was no justifying her actions, and now there was no turning back. She'd stepped in front of a giant wave and it knocked her down and would sweep her away. A psychological change took place just like it had the first time she secretly watched her sister, Sally let a boy mount her naked body and push his cock into her. Unlike the night she had to wait for flashes of lightning to see something she didn't understand, she had a perfect view from inside their closet, and full knowledge of what was happening. Although she understood sex at the time, there was noway Candy could have predicted the impact seeing it would have on her. Maybe she had whatever defect a potential drug addict has and until they try a drug, they have no idea how they'll react. One person might hate the effect of cocaine and never do it again, while another person falls in love with it. For Candy, seeing her big sister, the only person she trusted and loved unconditionally, get fucked, was the most powerful experience of her life, and she'd gotten hooked like a heroin addict.
Spying was wrong, bad and horrible on so many levels, but seeing the uncensored, private acts, movements and deeds of someone who thought nobody could see, was exciting and addictive. That's what a voyeur did, and that's what she was. Everybody has their fetish, she thought. There would be no harm as long as nobody found out, right? Her curious nature had always gotten her more than she'd expected, but denial was a blinding force.
One of Gloria's soapy legs slid out of the tub, the other stayed in. She lowered her crotch until her pussy was pressed onto the flat edge of the tub. She leaned forward and put her hands on the tile wall. Her back arched, her pelvis rotated and she rode the tub like a pony.
Candy panted, her own nipples erect, pulsing with a pleasure she hadn't felt for too long. She stuffed her hand inside her pants. Her little girl wasn't little anymore and she wasn't doing herself for the first time, it was a practiced movement. It was the same one she'd seen her sister doing, and had done herself many times.
Her daughter's sexual grinding was fascinating and wickedly erotic. Candy pushed her pants down, but left her panties on. Two fingers found her clitoris through the sheer material and stroked with the same urgency Gloria humped the tub with. Goose bumps covered Gloria's wet skin and her body trembled. Her butt lifted into the air and a hand grasped her crotch. Candy was enthralled by the sight of the young girl being pulverized by an orgasm and her own climax exploded into her underwear. Why should young lust end with marriage?
Candy met Gloria as she came out of the bathroom. "You take after your sister," she said. "You could at least put on underwear before you parade around in a towel."
"Mom, I'm not parading, just walking to my room."
She gave her arm a squeeze. "Did you clean up the bathroom?"
"I will," Gloria promised.
Candy smiled. "Go get dressed, I'll do it." She kissed Gloria. "I love you."
"Thanks, Ma, you're the best."
Evan sat in his room with his computer, phone and radio off. When he was at the ice cream place with Gloria, watching her lick the soft chocolate ice cream cone, it disturbed him that he thought about Jayda getting her pussy eaten. He had held Gloria's ass in his hands at the ball park, but it wasn't the tiny butt that his hands used to completely cover. It had become an ass that his fingers sank into, and his hands found pleasure in squeezing.
Gloria told him, “This is like a date,” and it made him choke on his drink. He had once spoken those exact words to Candy.
When they got home, he'd tried again to make Gloria the little girl she had been by giving her a piggy-back ride. In the kitchen, he encountered the younger version of his mom, and the puzzle pieces of his thoughts started clicking into place.
Of course Gloria was changing, he'd seen it happening since she was ten. His problem wasn't with her new body or the fact that he'd shot cum in her underpants, or had a wet dream on her leg. When she said, “This is like a date,” and smiled at him, something more like a mirage than a thought passed through his subconscious. When Candy was standing in front of him in the kitchen, the full realization of his inner musing twisted his guts to the point of nausea. Gloria was turning into Candy; and every passing day she would be more like the teenage version of his second crush, and he wouldn't be able to touch her the way he'd want to. He wouldn't be able to love her just like he couldn't love Deana or Candy that way. Then one day, Gloria would get a boyfriend and forget about him.
A hot shower followed by a good night's sleep, with some sex dreams, was what he needed. Tomorrow his heart would feel better. It was stupid reliving the pain just because Gloria reminded him of Candy. Evan stopped on each step and said, “Rebecca,” hoping to reprogram his brain. He had to stop wasting time pursuing things he couldn't have, and do what was right in front of him. Isn't that what his mom had been trying to tell him?
What happened next had the potential to redirect Candy's relationship with Evan, and maybe her whole life. She still had time to prevent it, but she was frozen in front of her computer. One window on the screen showed the driveway, the other was a black, fuzzy nothingness. Seeing Evan naked, spying on him, that would put an end to her curiosity, and she would know once and for all what had been pressed against her back. It would be out of her system and she could forget about it. That would be enough and nothing else had to happen. Why the hell had she peeled off those orgasm soaked panties and left them in the hamper? That's insanity, she told herself. Go get them before it's too late.
The second window went from black to Evan entering the bathroom and Candy realized she had waited too long. There was no changing her mind now; her son would very likely find her panties and he'd have to come up with some explanation. Would he immediately know she'd left them there for him or would it just confuse him?
Evan locked the bathroom door, took off his clothes, bunched them up and opened the hamper. His heart jerked to a stop, then raced, thumping blood in his ears. They're not Deana's underwear. It was sad that he knew his sister's panties so well, but horrifying that he recognized the underwear lying on top of the dirty clothes. They weren't just any panties, they were the red ones his mother was wearing while he held his cock in her room. He had no control over what was happening between his legs, but he had the power of choice, and he knew what would be the right thing to do.
Candy watched Evan remove his shirt and her stomach felt like a hornet's nest had been broken inside. She moved closer to the monitor as he opened his jeans. He pushed them down with his underwear, and she drew in a long trembling breath. His penis hung like a thick rope between his thighs, swinging, and her mouth filled with saliva. It was as exciting as the first time she'd seen a one without the aid of flashes of lightning. She had hidden behind the shower curtain expecting to see her brother pee. She'd gotten a lot more than she'd expected back then, and history would probably repeat.
Evan wadded his clothes together and reached for the hamper. Candy got dizzy. If Evan tossed his clothes without noticing, things could still go back to the way they were before. She should have been praying he wouldn't see her underwear, but now that she could see his cock, she wanted him to find her panties. His cock, cock, cock, she repeated in her mind. John would be shocked to hear her use that word, and that made her like it even more.
He stopped short and stared into the hamper. She could feel the confusion and dismay that was plastered on his face, and it excited her. It was possible that he would pick them up and do something he'd never want to be seen doing. She'd see it, and her unnatural desire would be satisfied. The ramifications could be life changing, but like an itch had to be scratched, a voyeur had to watch.
Evan's clothes fell to the floor and his hand went into the hamper. It stayed there a long time, then finally lifted her underwear. He held it out in front of him and thanks to the magic of modern technology, she was there in the same room with him. It would be dangerous to be naked if John's car appeared in the other window, but she started stripping anyway. She had to be naked.
Candy sat, scooted forward and rested her breasts on the cool wooden desk. She could feel her heart beat pulsing in her nipples and clitoris. Evan raised the garment to his face and her pussy started leaking. She was on fire. Her little man inhaled her scent, and a thought popped into her mind. After she visualized it, she blinked hard and shook her head, but it was too late. The evil thought was planted, it would grow and fight against good until it manifested in the real world.
The sight of Evan's cock lifting and straightening made her speak out loud, “Oh, my, you're not my little man anymore.” No wonder she'd felt it pressed against her back. When it curved into a full erection, standing parallel to his muscled stomach, her breath caught in her chest. She'd only had two, and her first was that same cock she'd watch slide inside Sally's body. It was huge for her virgin pussy, but she'd grown to love it. Watching had led to doing, and she loved doing it as much as watching it. Then she got pregnant, and they both stopped.
For the last five years, she practically had to beg for John's dick. She leaned close to the monitor and wanted to cry. She'd gone all that time settling for John's puny cock without knowing what she was missing out on. What does a sixteen-year-old need such a big dick for, she wondered. It was beautiful, a big beautiful cock that excited her just like the first time she'd seen her brother, Bobby, from behind the shower curtain.
Evan sucked the flavor of his mother's pussy into his mouth like a desperate alcoholic getting the last drops from his bottle. He'd seen it, the image hadn't faded, and now he was eating her out. The powerful scent made his cock jerk into its most rigid, bowed state. His hips pumped his erection into his fist, but in his mind he was in his mother's room, replaying that night. This time he wasn't scared. He got on the bed, hovered over her bodacious ass, pulled the panties to the side, then drove his dick into her. Finally, all his dreams had come true, he was fucking his gorgeous babysitter.
A tremendous shudder sent the first load of cum splattering against the mirror. He quickly got the underwear off his face and on the head of his dick. He'd taken the bait, fell into the trap, and now he was leaving the evidence in his mother's underwear. Remorse and guilt would follow, but now he was making her pussy patch drink his sperm. Could a pair of panties change his life?
It was the same thing her brother had done that day she'd expected to see him pee, yet it was so much more. Her son was thinking about her, sucking in her fluids while stroking his magnificent cock. He must have wanted her, and that thrilled Candy. She leaned back and put her feet on the edge of the desk. Her legs opened wide and two of her fingers became Evan's vein-bulging erection, thrusting into her violently. His balls swung and slapped her asshole every time his groin bashed into her splayed crotch. He was going so fast, and fucking her harder than she's ever been fucked.
Evan's fist was a blur on the screen and his sack drew his nuts up close to the thick base of his cock. She snapped her finger-tip across her clitoris, hoping she could time her orgasm with Evan's. She got on her feet and laid her chest on the desktop with her face inches from the screen. Her ass was pushed up on tiptoes and her hand was stuffed in her crotch, slamming her cunt as roughly as Evan was slamming his dick.
The copious burst from her son's penis made her jerk. In her mind it sprayed her face and tits, then Evan decided he wanted to fill her pussy with the rest of his load. Her own orgasm spilled over and ran down her inner thighs, but her hand kept grinding as long as he was pumping into her panties.
When it was all over, Evan surprised her by putting her cum soaked underwear back in the hamper without trying to remove the evidence. Did he think she wouldn't sort and separate, or was he sending a message?