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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 14. Uncoverings.
Of course I stared at my suddenly naked sister. Those amazing breasts, grapefruit sized with large, dark, puffy conical areolas and rigid nipples. Coffee brown natural skin, well-toned and smooth, nearly flawless. A mostly shaved pubic area, a small trimmed triangular tuft right on the peak of the hill of Venus, pointing downward like a road sign: "this way, please."
She started to close her legs, but I could almost see her thinking to herself, well, he's going to see eventually, and she spread them again, not crudely, just in the natural way she might, if she were sitting clothed.
Finally, she cleared her throat, and I realized I'd been staring rather openly. I met her eyes but there was nothing but humor and kindness. "Your turn," she goaded.
"Well, it's not going to be as dramatic as you and your robe," I commented, failing to buy time. Realizing I had no choice: my earlier statements, and the subtle competitiveness that had always existed between us as siblings, guaranteed I'd go along with this game. Given that, there seemed no point in procrastinating. But damn, my penis was not cooperating. Throb, throb. Oh, hell.
I stood and pulled off my sweatshirt and t-shirt in one motion, and kicked off my shoes. Then, muttering something like "I can't believe I'm doing this," I decided to not even try a striptease, expecting I'd appear ridiculous. I just hooked my fingers in my waistline and dropped pants and boxers at once, and pulled the socks off when I got them down, thus completely stripping in a single fell swoop.
Here I was, naked in front of my sister, with a massive, unrepentant erection jutting from my groin. I sat back down, but didn't dare try to cover up, sensing I'd appear sillier doing that than just sitting there, and also, not willing to appear less comfortable with what was going on than she did.
Now, it was her turn to stare. At least there was that. When she looked up and saw I'd been watching her gaze locked to my groin, she grinned sheepishly and said, "geez, Jase, you weren't kidding about the potential arousal problem." And giggled, adding, "Not to worry, bro. I'll take it as a complement."
We both looked away for a little bit. Then, with an almost girlish glee, she stood swiftly and said, "whee, I'm I nudist." And strode from the room. "This calls for a celebration, don't you think?" she called from the kitchen.
"Um, ok," I said, but remained seated.
Denise reappeared behind the half-wall separating the living room from the dining room, brandishing a bottle of wine. "Want some?" she asked.
"Well, one of us has to get Lissa," I observed.
"Oh, right," she grimaced. Well... I'll have a glass, and you can go get her. You don't mind?"
I shook my head. She ran back around the counter and fetched a corkscrew from a drawer, and soon had popped the top. A minute later she reappeared in the living room with her wine glass with a nice white in it, and resumed her spot on the couch. I could see she had goose bumps as she sipped her wine and fiddled with the tv remote, but as she reached for her blanket she looked up and remarked, "well, that wouldn't be fair, would it? You want to turn up the thermostat?"
I really wouldn't have minded if she'd covered herself - I was still in a mild state of shock from the turn of events. From my "Finn" point of view, she'd gone "above and beyond." I was impressed. But from the Jason point of view I was self-conscious and embarrassed, not to say mortified. But also, of course, profoundly aroused.
I stood and went around the corner, tinkered the thermostat for a few seconds till I saw how it worked (these electronic doohickeys can be a bit of a challenge, sometimes), and returned to the living room, still throbbingly erect and, damn was that the glisten moisture at the tip? Just as I feared.
Before I could return to my chair, Denise patted the couch and said, "you can't see the tv very well from there - sit over here. There's lots of room."
How could I protest? Without a word, I turned and sat at the other end of the couch from where we were - about 3 feet separated us, but even as I thought this in my mind, she rearranged herself with a half-turn, bringing one leg up and leaning back into the corner, and her left foot was now mere inches from my thigh, knee half-raised - if she'd stretched out, she have had her foot on my oddly-structured lap. And as I involuntarily raised my gaze from the proximate foot toward her face, it crossed the middle region now almost blatantly spread: puffy outer lips spread showing hint of the inner ones, and goodness, was that her clit peeking out at the top?
Of course my gaze froze, there.
"You act like you never saw one before," my sister teased.
"Uh, sorry," I mumbled, and, feeling defensive, I snipped, "you're not exactly leaving much to the imagination."
She laughed, and her raised thigh made a dipping motion, close, open. "I already admitted to you that I have exhibitionist tendencies. Why deny it?"
Finally, I had to ask, "It really doesn't bother you that I'm your brother, though?"
She got a pensive look, as I finally managed to look at her face. "If it bothered me, I wouldn't be doing it, Jase. I wish you wouldn't let it bother you."
I shrugged. "I guess I just have to get used to it. It's, uh, hard..." I realized the evident pun, and decided to let her have her fun, so I stopped there. Denise loved to play with words, and could never resist a good pun.
"Damn, no kidding!" she exclaimed, predictably, with a pointed gaze at my surging crotch. Then, more unexpectedly, she asked, "when's the last time you gave that thing some attention?"
I couldn't believe my sister was asking me that. But I just shrugged, for a moment unable to formulate a coherent answer. Then, surprising even myself, I said, "I, uh, have a habit of intentionally neglecting it."
Denise's mouth made a little "Oh" and she looked from it to my eyes, and back to it. "Intentionally? I don't understand."
I suspected she did understand, given the exchanges she and Finn had had about the subject of edging. But, of course, she didn't want me to know that.
So I explained, "sometimes I like to, well, let the energies build up."
She grinned. "Oh, like teasing yourself?"
I nodded. And she surprised me again. "Sometimes I do that, too."
When I didn't respond, she asked, "so when's the last time you let yourself, uh... finish?"
"You really want to know such a thing?" I asked, letting my incredulity with the situation show for a second.
She kind of giggled and shrugged, and, probably unconsciously, brought her legs together a bit. "You don't have to tell," she said, "I'm just being nosy."
I tried to smile back at her, but wondered if it came off as that standard horny-male-with-only-one-thing-on-his-mind look, as she got a funny look on her face, and turned away. So I said, "look, Denise, this is all very interesting, but... you can stop at any time, and I won't hold it against you."
Too late, I realized I'd given her another pun to toy with. Without a lost beat, she lowered her gaze at my lap and almost coquettishly said, "you won't hold it against me?" A sort of plaintive voice. The meaning made clear by where her stare was fixed.
"Geez, Denise. Only if you want me to," I finally said, because it almost seemed obligatory. I've explained, before, that we'd sometimes exchanged double-entendres and even near-flirted with one another, but because of the circumstances - mutual nudity, a day of sexually charged conversation, my pounding tube steak - this was a whole different level.
She looked back up at my face and grinned, and the joke was past. "Maybe it would make you more comfortable... if you went into the other room, and uh..." She finally suggested, but even she blanched at openly telling me to go masturbate. Thus, after a short ellipsis, she concluded, "...Then you could come back and, uh, not be so preoccupied."
I laughed, mostly at her sudden shyness after having pushed it so far. That eased the tension. But I didn't jump up and leave the room, though I was sorely tempted.
We actually both stared at the tv for a while, in mutual silence. Then she said, "I definitely think that, if we're going to have Lissa join us, you might want to, uh, release a little, ahead of time."
"You still think that's a good idea?" I asked, genuinely amazed Denise was still contemplating this.
She smiled and said, carefully, "I think Lissa is the one that started it. She deserves to reap the rewards."
"Rewards?" I laughed.
"She's not as naive as you might think, Jason," she finally said.
"I don't think she's naive - not at all. I just, uh, worry if it's appropriate."
Denise meditated on this a little bit, and resumed looking at the tv. I looked for a while at my sister's beautiful body, and was clearly daydreaming, eyes glazed over, when the toe six inches to my right reached out and poked my thigh playfully. I looked up again to meet her eyes.
She gave a little speech. "I think society probably would say it's wrong, but I don't believe it's wrong, and I don't think you believe it's wrong either, you're just not comfortable admitting you like the idea. Lissa is mature enough to be able to say no to anything she doesn't like or doesn't want to happen, and if she is, you and I certainly are, too. And I trust you completely to stop anything or everything the moment anyone says 'no.'"
"What if I'm the one saying 'no'?" I asked, dead serious.
Denise almost looked crestfallen. And reflexively, she raised her other leg and brought her knees together, momentarily ending the show. Was I really serious, or was I just worrying her for sake of worrying her? I'm not sure I knew, myself.
"If you're really saying no, Jase... we can stop right now."
"How far is this thing going to go?" I asked, genuinely curious if Denise had any idea herself, or if she'd been avoiding working through what sort of conclusion the current games might lead to.
She almost looked embarrassed, then. "Honestly, Jase, I wasn't, like... oh crap."
I sensed I needed to reassure her, then. "Denise, I already know you've got a kinky imagination. And for what it's worth, so do I." I laughed at my remark, to lighten it. She smiled, but wanly. I held her gaze. "So I guess we don't need to discuss it. We'll play it by ear... or by whatever body part we need to."
She giggled at this last, and visibly relaxed. And then, much to my shock and awe, she sidled over on the couch until we were side by side, hips touching, and kissed my cheek. "You're totally awesome, bro," she whispered.
"You too, sis," I answered. I couldn't resist, then, "but you're also a tease."
"I know you like it," she replied, with a giggle.
I nodded, in utter agreement, and turned back toward the tv. The heat of her skin at my side was making me ache. And pulse. I wondered if I would experience one of those extremely rare, stimulation-free ejaculations. Hmm.. that would be profoundly erotic and embarrassing, all at once, wouldn't it.
"I'm going to get some more wine" she finally said, standing again and strolling from the room. "Sure you don't want some?"
"Not if I'm going to fetch Lissa later on," I protested.
"Oh, right."
She came back with her wine glass, and folded herself back into her own corner, and sipped it for a moment.
"This television is crap. Wanna play strip poker?" she said, pounding the remote and killing the program I was definitely not watching.
"Very funny," I said, and looked around at her.
She met my gaze and looked back at my lap. For some self-conscious reason I followed her look and found myself face-to-face with my own throbbing monster, with a very evident driplet of precum poised on its end, now.
I looked away, feeling the arousal and the embarrassment all mixed together, and felt it jump involuntarily and knew she'd seen it.
"You really do have my permission, if you need to go, ah, relieve yourself," Denise offered again, helpfully.
I shrugged and didn't move.
"That's why I know you like it," she then said.
"Like what?" I asked, not following.
"Like when we tease," she clarified. I noted the 'we,' but chose not to draw attention to it.
"Explain," I said.
"Well, I guess most men I've known would have run to the bathroom or their bedroom a long time ago to do something about such a, um, problem, but you just keep sitting there torturing yourself. Especially with me giving you permission, and all. I really wouldn't be offended. But you like to tease yourself - you even said so. So of course you like to be teased, too."
"Uh, very perceptive, Denise."
She laughed. "Well, it's easy to identify in others when you're the same way yourself," she proclaimed, obliquely.
"I see," understanding perfectly. "I think you're nuts, sis."
Her laugh devolved into a giggle, and she relaxed into a delicious, licentious sprawl at my side on the couch. "So do you have some kind of game going where you don't ever allow yourself to touch yourself? I know some men have hang-ups about that. You going to wait for some kind of external relief?"
"Aha, no," I answered, laughing myself, but soaking up her fine shape with my eyes. "Nothing like that. But I do tend to deny myself for extended periods. It makes the moment more intense, when it comes."
"When it comes?" she asked, with a silly grin.
"Er, right. I believe it's called 'edging.'"
"I've heard the term," she nodded. "I do it too," she volunteered. "Maybe it runs in the family."
"Well, that'd be nurture, not nature," I quipped. Standard adoptee humor.
"Naturally," she returned. A bit of a pause. "I think Lissa does it too," she added.
"Oh?" I asked. This woman was obsessed with her daughter's sexuality, I realized, not for the first time. And obsessed with putting said daughter's sexuality in front of her brother, too.
"Well obviously I've never talked with her about it," she said - but I, as Finn, knew that to be a patent falsehood.
"So... there are clues, or what?" I asked.
Denise just nodded. Perhaps not wanting to try to fabricate how she might have detected her daughter's masturbatory habits.
I decided to drop it. Then the phone rang. It was Lissa, wanting to know if someone could come collect her. Speak of the devil, and all that.
"You're already done with dinner?" asked Denise, and I sensed she was having too much fun to want to be interrupted.
The snow had stopped about an hour ago. We decided it was probably doable - only about 5-6 inches had accumulated and the main roads were already plowed, according to the news. Since Denise had had a few glasses of wine, I was designated fetcher, so I threw on my clothes, added some additional layers, the whole bit, and got directions to Marie's house (and the phone number just in case). Then I went out and got the car de-iced and began the careful navigation of the semi-plowed side-street.
We hadn't discussed what was going to happen with the nudism thing. But I suppose I expected Denise would be dressed when we got back, despite her disappointment.
It was only two and half miles, but, driving very carefully and safely as possible, it took me 15 minutes to get there. Temperatures were dropping fast, however, so the snow was getting crunchy (which generally makes it easier to walk and drive on). I knocked on the house's door, was met by a cute, blonde teenager who was evidently Marie, then met the mom, and after some small talk, Lissa and I returned to the car.
Things were quiet for a minute as we drove back home, then Lissa detonated a nuclear explosion. "Uncle Jason, can I ask you something?"
I nodded, sensing only the seriousness of her tone - no threat.
"Are you Finn?"
My jaw dropped. I drove carefully to the curb, on autopilot, and put the car in park, leaving the engine running for heat. As if in a dream (or nightmare?), like slow motion. My heart racing. And realized only then that if I had been planning to pretend I had no idea what she was talking about, it was too late. An uncle Jason who WASN'T Finn would hardly have reacted this way - he'd have said "huh?" and kept on as if she'd asked him if he were Peter Cottontail - which is to say, at worst wondering if his precocious niece had launched an obscure joke over his head. Which meant the game was up, and I'd given it away before I could even protest.
I turned to her, and at least the slow motion effect had lighted up a little. Her gaze was earnest but still not threatening. But dead serious.
"God, Lissa. How..."
"How did I know?" she completed the obvious question. And continued, "the way you say things. I remember thinking, like a week ago, that Finn had a very funny way of saying things, sometimes. I mean, I liked it, but it was unique. And then, I heard you say almost identical things, and it got me to thinking."
I nodded. Once again amazed at how smart this girl was. "For example?" I prompted, when she was quiet for a moment - but she never broke my gaze - it was I who broke it, feeling the awkwardness.
"The first clue was when Finn said 'I know how the horny mind works' or something like that, yesterday. Then this morning, you said something very similar. That's when I first thought - it honestly never occurred to me until right then. But then, after you and me were done talking, and I went online, and I was chatting with Finn... he said he was 'Opinionated and annoying' which is EXACTLY what you said of yourself just a little earlier. It was too obvious. And I stood up right then and peeked around the corner from the den, and there you were, typing into your laptop, right as it showed Finn was typing again in the chat window. I realized you must have an internet connection on your laptop and were using it."
"Uh. You caught me," I said, sheepishly. "Are you mad?"
Quickly, she answered, "Of course." A little coldly. She folded her arms on her chest. And she was still staring me down, and repeatedly winning the jousting match between our eyes. No shame there at all - the shame was all mine. For the first time in almost 8 hours, I felt my erection subside. It was devastating.
"I'm... I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you think of me." I expected things were going to get very unpleasant.
Even more coldly, she said, "I think you're a liar and pervert." And thrust her jaw forward, determinedly.
"Oh crap," I said, and bent my head into my hands.