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WARNING: This story may depict sexual activity of fictional beings, solo, or between men and women, or women and women, or men and men, of various ages, which may be above, or below, the age of consent, in one or another real-world polity. Or something like that. If that freaks you out, or violates some law that applies to you or your computer, please don't read it.
Wow Thanks (MFf, exhib, voy, inc, cons)
Chapter 7. A Thanksgiving Dinner.
"Well, hello" I typed back. "Happy turkey day to you, too!"
"I thought u said u were going to be offline over the weekend" Lissa sent.
"I snuck away to a Starbucks and I'm on wifi," I half-lied. "How are things going?"
"Fine, fine. Awesome, actually. This is Lissa btw" she typed.
I was hearing the telltale beeps as my responses popped up on her screen in the other room, fairly low volume, but audible. So weird....
Everything that had been happening, it was all confirmed, I realized. All real. There could be no doubts that both my sister and my niece were involved in this ongoing tasks game we were playing. Although there was still a possibility they'd "faked" one or more of the tasks they'd had, that they were both at least involved in the dialogue was incontrovertible at this point. It hardly mattered whether they'd actually done each and every thing exactly as they'd said. I felt both exhilarated and morbidly self-conscious at this sudden awareness.
"So what are you up to today?" I asked.
"Not much... " a pause. "We did the masturbation yesterday. We even did it together for a while."
"Really?" I asked.
"Yep me and mom were so horny last night we were on the couch talking about this weekend and the tasks you sent and we both just started doing it. it was soo hot."
"Wow," I said. "You didn't cum I hope."
"LOL no sir. were following the rules I promise," she typed. "I'm so horny this morning!"
"Sounds like fun," I said, not wanting to be the one to first mention their houseguest - I wanted to see what she would say.
There were a few minutes of pause, so I sent "Whatcha doing?"
"Just, um... finding the masturbation description I might use for the Saturday task."
"OK. might?"
"mom and me haven't decide who does which task yet," she explained.
"I see."
"So have to tell you what I did this morning," she wrote after another minute or so.
"What's that? I asked.
"Well, you know my uncle Jason is visiting, right? so and you said we could masturbate if we were really desperate as long as someone was within 10 feet. bonus activity, u called it"
"Yep," I prompted.
"LOL so I was desperate."
"I know how that is," I encouraged. "What did you do?"
"When I came out of the shower I saw uncle Jason sitting at the table. So I went over and sat across from him so he couldn't see my lap and I pretend to read the paper and I u-know-what"
"Awesome," I remarked. "You think he noticed?"
"Well he noticed I was in just a towel from the shower and I'm sure he was checking me out, but I don't think he knew what I was doing with my fingers under the table," she explained.
"You think he was checking you out?"
"Oh definitely :p" She'd included the "tongue out" smiley, teasingly.
"How does that make you feel?" I asked, daringly.
"freakin horny" she exclaimed immediately.
"I'm glad you're having fun," I sent back, inanely.
"Oh definitely."
I couldn't take too much more of this... and I still felt compelled to keep stretching things out, prevent them from moving too fast. "Hey I've got to get going," I sent to her.
"Ok," she responded, but immediately followed, saying, "before u go can u give me a bonus task?"
"A bonus task?" I asked.
"Yah I'm bored and we have all day till dinner. Plus I'm horny too."
"Ok let me think a sec..." and think I did, furiously. I thought back to a story I'd read a while back, and it gave me an idea. "Ok, here's your task," I finally sent. "Within the next 2 hours, you have to get your uncle to say the words 'penis' and 'orgasm' to you. I don't care how you do it."
"OMG that's a twisted task."
"You think you can do it?" I asked.
"Not sure. :) but I can try LOL" she finally wrote back.
"Good luck. See you later," I sent. And logged off before getting a reply.
Lissa stayed in the den on the computer for another 10 minutes after that, while I plonked around on my work document, somewhat unproductively. Shortly, Lissa emerged and went into the kitchen to talk to her mom. I heard some very low whispered conversation, heard Denise say loud enough that I could hear, "... Oh my... " and back to whispers again.
Finally Lissa emerged and went to her room. Denise, meanwhile, peeked around the wall from the kitchen and asked if I could help her with something. I locked the screen on my laptop and set it aside, and went to help my sister in the kitchen.
Denise was in a sweatshirt and jeans, very comfortable looking but not terribly revealing. I helped her prepare the turkey for the oven, getting the stuffing in and all that. We chatted about this and that, very low key and casual, a perfect antidote for the tension that had been building earlier.
Finally, she let me go. "I'm done with you," she said, "you can go back to your computer stuff."
Nearly an hour had passed, and still Lissa was in her room. I went and sat in the living room, but left my laptop alone and read a magazine for a while - when I fetched it from the den I noticed the screen saver running on their computer, but left it alone.
15 minutes after that, Denise came out and announced she had to run to the corner store. "On Thanksgiving day?" I asked. "I'll go," I volunteered.
"No no... you stay here and relax, I just have to get some more butter and milk. It's always the basics you don't plan for..."
So she left, and it occurred to me that she was getting out of the house on purpose, to facilitate some plan Lissa had. I waited, curious to see what would happen.
Finally, with only about 30 minutes left on the time limit I'd given her, Lissa emerged from her room carrying some papers - looked like school papers - and one of those textbooks-in-a-paper-cover they issue you in high school, highly decorated with doodles and no indication as to what subject it was. She plopped down on the couch and began going through them, as if she was studying.
"Doing homework on Thanksgiving?" I asked. "That's pretty dedicated."
She shrugged and looked up. "Whatever. I'm bored and it's gotta be done." Long silence, me reading the magazine, her going through her papers... doing some memorizing, looks like.
Then, "Hey, um, uncle Jason?"
"Yes?"
"Can I ask, like, a really big favor?"
"What's that?"
"It's kind of embarrassing," she said. Ah... here it comes, I thought.
"I promise I'll be nice," I encouraged her.
She grinned, shyly, and started to explain, in a rapid voice. "We're in, uh, sex-ed this semester for health class. And we have these vocabulary tests. Stupid Mr. Anderson says there might be a 'pop quiz' on Monday and you know he will, too. So I'm trying to memorize the definitions for these words and I was wondering could you test me?"
Very, very clever, I congratulated her, silently. She was a smart kid, no denying that. I could already see how she intended to solve the task.
"Uh sure," I replied out loud, trying to convey the level of discomfort that seemed appropriate to the non-perverted-uncle role I was attempting to play, with only moderate success.
Lissa energetically leapt up from the couch and brought me her list, handed it to me. A set of words and definitions, written in her careful cursive. Such excellent improvisation, I thought, but said, "You might be less embarrassed to go over these with you mom," I suggested, which was roughly in character, and attempting to appear embarrassed, myself (which actually, despite everything, I was, at least a little).
"Oh no," she protested. "That would be MORE embarrassing."
"Oh, I see. Well... um, ok. What do you want me to do."
"Just read off the word, and I have to give you the definition," she explained, perkily, sitting back down on the couch in her little sundress, facing me.
I won't go into the gory details. There were about 12 vocabulary words on the list, the definitions were completely plausible 8th grade sex-ed type definitions. I almost wondered if, coincidentally, she really did have sex-ed and had dug these out of her actual homework.
But no... I remembered she had a set of encyclopedias in her room. I suspected she'd copied the definitions from there. The words included, obviously, "penis" and "orgasm," and it was charming to hear her recite the definitions of these words so effortlessly. She stumbled on a few of the others, and actually made me read her the definitions and coach her on them - including "semen" and "clitoris." Utterly delightful.
Finally, she said "I think I've got them all," and came and collected her list from me, and I almost thought she was going to lean over an kiss me. But instead, she returned to the couch, and pulled out some other papers to work on. "Thanks a zillion, uncle Jason." And she smiled shyly at me.
And, with perfect timing, Denise returned from the store. I resumed reading my magazine, trying hard not to stare at my precociously clever niece and exotically beautiful sister as she unpacked her groceries and resumed her kitchen tinkering.
Another 15 minutes or so, and Lissa got up and called out to her mom "I'm going back on the computer, ok mom?" To which Denise agreed from the kitchen.
Wanting to avoid the appearance of too many coincidences, I resisted the urge to go online myself, and so went into the kitchen to offer help to Denise. She was just finishing up something involving pie, however. We made some small talk, and made our way back to the table and sat down.
We'd decided to just snack rather than have lunch, with the Thanksgiving dinner looming ahead of us, so she'd set out some munchies, including chips, dip, some carrot sticks and celery, etc. We chatted as we worked on the munchies, when, unexpectedly she said, "hey, is that a good carrot?" out of the blue as I chomped down on the item in question.
Of course, I realized what had happened. This was her task - she was getting it out of the way early. And as I chewed the carrot with its ranch dip I tried to discern the flavor I knew had to be there... but was unable to. She was grinning at me as we went on chatting and munching.
God this was fun. It wasn't the first time that I wondered, if she knew it was me... would she still want to play along?
Some of her revelations of the past week made me suspect she might, but I worried that if I revealed my identity to her now, she'd be angry about the deception. I didn't dare risk it.
Lissa came out from the den and joined in the munching and chatting, and, with time to kill, Denise asked if anyone wanted to play a game. "What sort of game?" Lissa asked. They asked me, and I was indecisive, but suggested cards, or monopoly, or scrabble.
We finally settled on scrabble, an old family favorite, but at first Lissa didn't seem so into it, although Denise and I were enjoying ourselves.
Then, suddenly, as Lissa was puzzling over what word to put down, she uttered a sort of gasp and said "oh my god." Teenagers have a way of giving any small comment a tone of apocalyptic pronouncement.
"What is it?" asked Denise, alarmed.
"Uh, nothing... but, I was wondering..."
"Yes?" I asked, encouragingly.
"Can we put dirty words?" She blurted out.
Denise laughed, raised an eyebrow. "Jason?"
"I don't see why not. Just us chickens, here," I commented.
"Ok, what's your word?" Denise asked her daughter.
With only a little bit of nervousness, she put a 'c' 'u' 'n' in front of a 't' already on the board, crossing a triple word square in the process.
"Very good," congratulated her mother.
Lissa giggled and said, "hehe this fun."
What an interesting long weekend this is going to be, I thought to myself, not for the first time.
We played for another hour or two uneventfully, although with the barrier broken, Denise made 'fucked'. She then proposed we should give bonus double points for dirty words and Lissa and I agreed on the condition that it only counted moving forward and didn't include Denise's 'fucked.'
After that, the effort to make dirty words was all-out, with myself adding another 'cunt,' Lissa adding 'shit' and 'dick' (arguably not that dirty a word but we gave her credit) and Denise putting out 'cummed' which we thought marginal but decided "what the hell."
Periodically, Denise would get up to check on the turkey and soon the game ended and she got absorbed in kitchen stuff again, and I helped. The next few hours, including a delicious turkey dinner and lots of fun talk, were relaxing and more typical of my visits from before all this sex-task stuff had so radically altered our relationship.
Denise served some sparkling wine, and let her daughter have some too, and we chatted. Then Lissa announced that she was in charge of the desert, and fetched a delightful looking chocolate-mousse pie out of the fridge. Not traditional Thanksgiving fare, you might think, but it was a strong tradition in our family.
"I hope it turned out ok, I copied mom's recipe," she explained, bringing it out.
"Actually it was your grandma's recipe," I pointed out, and Denise smiled sagely.
"I've added a secret ingredient, based on mom's advice," explained Lissa.
I had an inkling, but only said, "Ah, I see." Of course it was entirely logical as I began to eat my piece that Lissa asked, "so do you like it?"
I nodded vigorously and said, "Oh yes, perfect. I don't really taste a secret ingredient, though."
"Trust us, it's there," said Denise, mysteriously. I decided to enjoy the mystery.
After that, Lissa wanted to watch a movie on tv. They'd rented some moderately corny romantic comedy (I have an unadmitted weakness for such things so I only complained about it half-heartedly) and we watched it together and had some more desert as it was ending. It was only about 8 pm, however.
"We should have rented another movie," commented Lissa.
Denise and I agreed, but they hadn't, so we fished around for something good on basic cable for a while, before Lissa gave up and asked her mom if she could go back on the computer. Her mom assented, cheerfully, and that left my sister and me together watching really bad television, on the couch. Then two things happened. First, suddenly she jumped up, and, complaining she'd eaten too much, announced she was going to change into something more comfy.
Then, when she came back in, now back in her pajamas, she pulled a fluffy blanket over herself, saying she was cold. As we watched the tv quietly, I watched her, at the other end of the couch, from the corner of my eye. Was it possible she was pursuing bonus activity? Even as I wondered this, she let out a fairly audible sigh.
"You doing alright?" I asked, the concerned brother.
"Perfect," she grinned, snuggling more under her blanket. Indeed.
After another hour, Lissa came out from the den. "Anything good on?" she asked.
"Nope," Denise and I answered in perfect unison. Lissa laughed, stretched overdramatically, and said, "Well, with all that shopping we're gonna do tomorrow, I'm going to bed."
We said goodnight, and shortly after that, Denise, looking anything but sleepy - she looked alert and distracted, and I suspected I knew why - announced she was exhausted and going to bed, too.
"Goodnight, little bro," she said, jokingly.
"Goodnight, sis," I returned, and with that, she threw off her blanket and quickly left the room.
I shut off the tv and the lights and went into my den with my laptop.
I shut my door, stripped naked - feeling horny and nasty - and sat down on the bed with my laptop, to see if I could get online. The neighbor's wifi connection was still there, and I connected but I didn't log into yahoo. First I checked my emails.
There were two emails from Denise (i.e. actually Lissa), timestamped, as I expected, around lunchtime and around 9 pm. The first was fairly brief - she simply said she did the bonus task and explained in two sentences how she pulled it off. "It was fun and I felt very sneaky," she concluded.
The second was a bit longer. She provided a pretty good summary of the rest of the day, telling how her mom had put a carrot stick IN her pussy in the kitchen and how "uncle Jason" enjoyed it. I assumed she must have known this from something her mom told her or from what had been planned, as I was pretty sure she hadn't been in the kitchen at the relevant time.
Then, skipping forward in time, she told about the chocolate-mousse pie with the secret ingredient. She explained that it was her mom's idea yesterday after they got the tasks, and before uncle Jason got there Lissa made the pie and what she had done was to take all the bitter baker's chocolate squares that went into the recipe and had inserted them into herself before melting them for the pie. She said her uncle Jason had seemed to like the pie very much, and even her mom who knew the secret ingredient said it was the "best ever."
Skipping backward, she gave a charming account of the scrabble game with the dirty words. And concluded by saying, "even as I type this, mom is out on the couch under a blanket masturbating while uncle Jason is like 3 feet way. Talk to you later - Lissa."