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Subject: Title story: "MY SISTER JEAN. Chapter 19" Author: Incest Man 59510158
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Date: Mon, 14 Nov 2005 23:03:00 +0000
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MY SISTER JEAN. Chapter 19 By Billy G Chapter 20 Conclusion, A Resolution - Of
Sorts A sudden knock on the loose-fitting screen door sounded like a gun shot,
loud and jarringly unexpected. With a faintly British accent, a young man's
voice called out, "There's a phone call for Billy or Jean." And in another
moment, "Anyone there?" Jean and I looked at each other. I lifted an eyebrow
that asked, 'Do you know?' She shrugged her shoulders as if to say, 'Beat's me.'
A naked Margi had slumped to her knees, one hand thrust between her thighs and
the other unsuccessfully trying to cover her breasts. We were all uncomfortably
aware that whoever it was had only to step off the walk to look through the
unshuttered screens to see the three of us, mostly naked. We remained frozen.
"Anyone home?" the disembodied voice asked again, and again knocked. Suddenly
jarred from my inaction, I called out, "Okay. Be right there." Turning to my
sister and our friend, Margi, I held my hands out, palms up and whispered, "Stay
here. I'll be right back." Jean placed her hand on my arm and asked in a
surprisingly loud voice, "Where'd you think we were going to go?" "Shit, I don't
know...but wait anyway, okay?" Jean smiled and nodded. "Hurry back." I slipped
into some sailing shorts and a fresh T-shirt. As I was leaving, I glanced back
to see Jean kneeling beside the cowering Margi. It occurred to me that if Margi
wasn't concerned about her nudity, she might understandably be concerned about
her job at this remote and high-priced dive resort. Whoever had brought the
message was gone when I went outside. Threading the darkened paths that
connected our octagonal beach house with the larger central building, I
reflected that only our Mom knew where we were. Entering the main structure, I
walked into the bar where our hostess, Gladys, glanced up and nodded her head
toward a phone receiver off the hook. "Your mom," she offered. "Hello?" "Billy?
How are you? You and Jean okay?" It was Mom. Damn, I should have called to let
her know. "I'm sorry, Mom..." I began but she cut me off. "Don't worry about it.
That's okay. Gladys already told me that everything's fine I just wanted to hear
your voice. Or Jean's." "We're fine." And then searching for something to say, I
asked, "Remember Margi, the Dive Master from last year?" "Oh, yes. I remember
Margi. I'm sure *you* do!" It amazed me how my mother could put so much
suggestive meaning into her voice. Before I could frame an answer, she went on,
"Gladys said that the three of you had gone to listen to CD's after dinner.
Having fun?" Cripes. Half a world away. Did we have any privacy? I looked at
Gladys and she smiled a conspiratorial, almost wolfish grin. "Uh...yes. We
were..." and I didn't know just what to say. "We were...uh, playing a game."
"Truth or Dare?" Mom asked. What the hell is this, I wondered? "How'd you know?"
I asked, perplexed once again by my mother's seeming omniscience. "I didn't, but
it's what came to mind. Probabl because that's what I'd do in the same
situation." She paused and then went on, "You and Jean explore 'your situation'
anymore?" Our 'situation.' I was embarrassed. Even though we'd had an open, heart-to-
heart conversation about sex, Mom and me, I still found it difficult to be
comfortably candid. "Uh...nothing new, Mom. We're okay, honest." "Baby, I'm not
checking up on you two. I love you both and have confidence that whatever you
do, it'll be all right. Now get back to your party, tell Jean I love her and say
hello to Margi. And oh yes. Tell Margi not to do anything I wouldn't do...and
that leaves her a lot of latitude. Bye." she ended up laughing. "Bye, Mom." I
turned to leave and Gladys said, "Tell Margi to relax." "What?" "Just relax,
have a good time...that's all." Once again I had the feeling that I wasn't
completely in the know about what was going on. Were we that transparent? I was
mulling that over in my mind as I walked the darkened path back to our room. I
noticed that the blinds were drawn and the room apparently dark as I let myself
in. There was a yellow, dim light, a candle flickering on the night stand. One
of Margi's CDs was playing, a soft, melodic sound that I didn't recognize, but I
liked. "Hi, Billy," two voices intoned, almost in unison. "Welcome back," added
Jean. "Margi, Gladys says, 'relax'." "What?" "Relax. She says to relax. That's
all. You know what that's a about?" "Uh, I'm not quite sure. But she thinks I'm
too tense." As I dark adapted, I saw Jean was sitting on the floor, legs
outstretched, her back against the foot of the bed and Margi was leaning back
against Jean in turn, between her legs. Jean was holding Margi loosely, one hand
over a full breast. Both were naked as best I could see in the flickering light.
"We've been talking," Jean added, in response to the question unasked. "Margi's
been telling me about her sex life." Margi squirmed, I thought uncomfortably,
and looked down, not saying anything. "Isn't that so, Margi?" Jean asked,
nudging her breast. "Oh, Jean...don't," she murmured so softly I almost missed
it. "Oh, Jean, yes. Billy would be pleased to hear what you've been telling me."
And then turning to me, she added, "Our little Margi's really quite experienced,
Billy. Shy, but experienced. Right, Margi?" She murmured something. I couldn't
hear her, so I kneeled between her splayed legs and said, "What was that, sweet
girl? What'd you say?" "She'll tell you, Billy, but first she's got to be
relaxed. That phone call scared her. Is everything all right?" I nodded and
offered no further explanation. "Tell you what, Billy. Pull up the ottoman there
behind you and sit facing us. Put your legs over Billy's, Margi so he can move
in and be close. Okay?" Perhaps it was because of the dim, flickering candle
light or perhaps Jean and Margi had come to some trust or understanding while
I'd been talking with our mom because she didn't demur at all. Sliding up toward
them, my own legs splayed, Margi lifted hers and dropped her thighs over mine.
In turn, my legs were draped over Jean's. My dark adaptation and the candle
light enabled me to appreciate the furry core of Margi's pelvis in the process.
"Hmmmm, nice, Margi." "Are you commenting on Margi's pussy, Billy?" Margi gasped
and I felt her trying to close her legs, but she was stuck in an open and
exposed position. Not waiting for a reply, Jean went on, "Tell Billy what you
told me a few minutes ago, Margi." "Oh, I couldn't..." she began but was cut off
by Jean immediately. "Sure you can, girl." Jean cupped both her breasts in her
hands and rolled her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She then turned her
attention to me. "I'll start." she began. "Margi has always wanted to
acknowledge her body as well as her sexuality. She told me that making out in
the dark is fun certainly, but not exciting. She's attracted to the excitement.
Aren't you, girl?" Margi glanced at me and then tried to look up at Jean but
couldn't manage fully. Jean nudged her again and she nodded. "Aren't you?"
prompted Jean. "Yes." "Yes, what?" "Yes, I love the excitement." "And?"
"And...I'm too embarrassed to ask for it." Patiently, "For what, Margi?" "For
someone to tell me what to do." she said softly and then gaining some
confidence, added in a louder voice, "I want to do things. All sorts of things,
you know - sexy things - but I'm too shy. It's not that I don't want to try
things, everything, it's that I'm so embarrassed. If someone, you, *makes* me do
things...well, then I can't refuse. It's like it's not my fault. Then it's okay.
Know what I mean?" "Good, Margi. Now let me ask you this. Are you willing to
tell Billy what our deal is?" Margi nodded, studying the rug in front of her,
not looking up. "ARE you, girl?" Jean nudged her again. Margi suddenly looked up
at me and stared for a long moment before saying, "Yes, I am." I touched her for
the first time. I placed my hands on the tops of her thighs and slowly stroked
up and down. "Then tell me, Margi. What's the "deal' - the one you've made with
Jean. I'd like to hear you tell me." She took a deep breath and blew it out.
Then another before beginning. "I told Jean that I was so excited, so hot a
little while ago - when we were playing Truth or Dare - that I would have done
anything, and Jean asked, 'Anything?'" She took another breath and continued.
"When she asked me that, I was excited and afraid at the same time, but I guess
I was more excited then frightened so I said, 'Yes, anything.'" Jean continued
to roll Margi's nipples in her fingers. They were swollen and dusky. I hunched a
little closer and ran my fingers over the tops of her thighs, ending just an
inch away from her public thatch. "Go on," I urged. "She asked me if I'd be your
slave for the night, the two of you's slave. I wasn't sure what that meant, but
somehow it made me wetter." She looked at me again and asked, "Know what I
mean?" "The slave part or the wetter part?" I asked. "Uh...I figure you know
about the wetter part. I'm horny. But do you know about the slave part? What
does that mean to you?" "No, Margi. The real question is: What does that mean to
*you*?" She looked down, nibbling on her lower lip and brushed the top of her
pubic hair with her fingers. "Well, I *think* it means that I have to do what
you tell me to do, that I have no choice." I traced a line across the top of her
pubic bush, meeting her hand in the process. She started to pull away but I
grabbed her hand and pulled it back to the top of her pussy and held it there.
"Margi, it's important to know that you *do* have a choice. You always do. This
is a game. That's all it is. And in this game, we play that you're a slave, our
slave, and that you have to do the things we say. Keep in mind, if you agree,
we'll expect you to keep your bargain. We'd never hurt you, but we might
embarrass you and we just might make you even hornier. But you do have a choice.
Do you understand that?" After I removed my hand from hers, she resumed touching
the area around the top of her slit, idly moving her fingers through her bush.
Oddly stronger, she went on. "Oh, I know that. And I've already made the
decision. That's the "deal" I made with Jean. I'm yours for the evening and I
have to do what I'm told." Glancing back, she added, "Isn't this right?" Jean
answered promptly, "That's right, girl and the first thing I want you to do is
play with yourself. I'll play with your tits. You play with your little cunny.
Yes, show Billy your pussy." Jean has assumed a firm, directing voice and I took
my clue from that. "While you're playing with yourself, Margi, tell us...when
did you start masturbating?" She ran the index finger of her right hand up
through her slit. In the yellow light, I could see her finger glistening with
her wetness. "Um...I'm not really sure. A long time ago. I was young. I mean,
very young. Maybe eight. Even seven. I don't remember. All I knew was that it
felt really good and I knew I wasn't supposed to be doing that. I didn't know
why. I don't remember anyone telling me not to touch myself, but I knew. Maybe
my girlfriend told me. I knew it was naughty, but it felt too good to stop."
"Ever get caught?" Jean asked. Margi slipped two fingers into her slit and then
rubbed her juice on my hand as I toyed with her pubic hair. When I looked at
her, her eyes were glistening, intense and wide open. She smiled a little.
"Several times. It was embarrassing, but it also was exciting. I think I
*wanted* to get caught." "Did you cum then?" I asked, holding my hand up to my
nose. Her eyes glittered as she watched me. I smelled her and then touched my
tongue to my fingers. She jerked. Now a little more breathless, she answered, "I
could cum as long as I can remember. Just some were more powerful than others."
I wondered what she was trying to tell us, but before I could frame another
question, Jean asked, "Tell us about the powerful ones, girl. Can you remember
what made them that way?" "Yes, I can...but I'm a little embarrassed to talk
about it." Bending forward, I used my finger tips to pull open the lips of her
pussy, watching her finger roll her clit. "Then all the more reason to tell us,"
I interjected. "It's the stuff about which we are most embarrassed that's often
behind the greatest erotic charge." "Exactly," chimed Jean. "Remember, you're
our slave, so tell us everything girlfriend." I presented the wet tips of my
fingers to Jean. She sniffed them and said, "I'm beginning to understand why you
keep snitching my panties, Billy." Margi looked back and forth between us,
straining her neck trying to see Jean behind her. I nodded to her. "Go on." "You
guys make me forget what I'm saying..." "The most powerful cums," I prompted.
"Oh yeah! Well, it had something to do with the fear of getting found out. That
some one would catch me. The closer I got to discovery, the more powerful my
cums got. A couple a times I got caught with my hand in my panties as I was
about to cum and it shot me over the edge. I just doubled up and groaned, it was
so strong." I scrunched a little closer again. Margi had to lift her thighs even
higher as I moved in. She looked down and saw my cock, inches from her. She
tentatively reached out to touch me and I said, "In a moment. But right now, I
want to look at you. I want to touch you. Have you ever been this open for
anyone?" She shook her head and continued to look at my cock, now bobbing. I ran
my finger through her slit. It was swampy and the musky scent of her was filling
the room. "And have you *wanted* to show yourself this way? " She nodded her
head vigorously. "All the time! I don't understand it, but I *want* to be seen.
I put myself in positions where I'll be exposed and then almost die of
embarrassment when I am. And I keep doing it. I get so hot sometimes I have
to..." "Masturbate?" Jean prompted. "Yes. I *have* to get off. I even stick
things up inside of me." She paused and then added, "God, I can't believe I said
that!" Turning her back to the moment, I asked, "Can you feel it in your pussy
when Jean pinches your nipples?" I nodded to Jean. Margi gasped with the
intensity of Jean's pinch. "Can you feel that in your little cunny, Margi?" Jean
asked, tugging on her swollen nipples. Margi bobbed her head and groaned, as she
slid down a bit, pushing her cunt at my fisted cock. I slid the head of my dick
up and down through her wet slit and said to her, "Margi, bring yourself off for
us. Show us how you cum. We want to watch you, your pussy, your sweet cunt.
Watch it drool. Make it foam, girl. Jill off for us." She looked wildly at me
for a moment and then surrendering, she threw her head back, her neck arched,
tits thrust forward and slipped the fingers of her right hand into her cunt as
she began rolling her clitoral hood with her left hand. I began to tap on the
engorged and jutting tip of her clit with the head of my cock, much as I'd done
with Jean once a few years before. And like Jean had done, she began a grunting
moan that sounded like, "Mmmm, uh, uh, uh," over and over, thrusting her hips at
me, plunging her fingers into her swampy core. My desire was surging. As she
slid forward again, I noted that Jean had pulled her hands away from Margi and
into her own crotch. At least it looked that way. I made eye contact with her
and she looked almost pained. Her brows were knitted and she was biting her lip.
Her eyes were open and wild with passion, unfocused. Margi had slid almost flat
with her legs wrapped around me. My cock had been pulled down into the crack of
her ass as I mindlessly began humping at her sexy, wet warmth. Jean pulled away
and shifted position, now kneeling over Margi's head, her hand buried in her own
cunt, frigging away, almost frantically. Margi's unsupported head was thrown way
back, neck hyper-extended, mouth open. When I caught Jean's eye again, I nodded
toward Margi's open mouth and Jean threw her leg over and lowered her cunt to
Margi. Margi immediately opened her mouth and started to suck on my sister's
pussy as she continued to frig her own cunt, now with three fingers jammed in
and still blindly humping the air. Jean was moaning and grunting as she fingered
her clit and Margi mouthed her slit. No less intense, Margi continued to moan
incoherently as she fucked her self with her bunched fingers, my hard cock
rubbing the crevasse of her ass cheeks. I wondered if she'd ever taken it up the
ass. I wrenched myself back, pulling away from Margi. Without looking, she
pulled her mouth away from Jean long enough to moan, "No, please no." I kneeled
between Margi's legs and pulled them up, pushing her knees toward her shoulders,
baring her open and swollen sex as she crammed her fingers into herself. Just
below was her ass hole, fringed with dark hair. I was desperate to sink my cock
into something. "Margi, I'm going to fuck you. You okay with that? Want me to
sink my hard cock into you soft cunt, girl?" She pulled back, took a breath and
almost screamed, "YES! Yes. FUCK me--I want it--I need it. Fuck me, please!"
Unthinking, I leaned over her, pushing the head of my cock below her fingers.
She pulled out and grabbed my cock, guiding it into her core as I slowly sank
into her, no more than a head's depth. "Want more than the head in there, girl?"
I asked, trying to drive her crazy." Jean's voice entwined itself in our
reverie, "Fuck her, Billy! Fuck her while I watch. Yes, fuck her while she eats
me. Oh, God. Oh, shit. This is so hot. Put it in. More!" "More, Margi?" "Oh GOD,
don't tease me. I'm gonna die. Push it in, Please!" I eased in another inch,
maybe two. "Yesss," she hissed and humped at me. "Yes," echoed Jean. "Oh Christ,
Billy. I've wanted this and I've been afraid of this for so long. Fuck HER,
Billy and think about fucking me!" Bending forward and thrusting her hips out
that she might see Margi better, Jean added, "Come on, girl. Suck me. Eat me
while my brother fucks into your cunt. Give me the fuck energy he's giving you.
Fuck me with your tongue." I lost all restraint as I pulled back and then
slammed into her as hard as I could. I touched something back there, in the back
of her cunt. She grunted and bucked under me as I began a trip-hammer pounding,
kneeling between her splayed thighs, my eyes locked with Jean's as we climbed
higher and higher onto some impossible pinnacle. I lost track of time. I lost
track of Margi. It came down to just the two of us. There was just me and there
was just Jean, eyes locked, fucking and fucking, lost in the moment, lost in
each other. She started first, as her head fell back and she grabbed her own
breasts, humping Margi's mouth, her moan drawn out to a rising crescendo. I
remember thinking for a brief moment that I'd watch this erotic sight, but my
own runaway orgasm caught me by surprise. I couldn't remember what we'd decided
about her risk. I pulled out and fisting my cock, I stroked it once, twice and a
third time when I exploded. The first thick white rope of cum landed on Jean's
thigh. The next on Margi's chin and throat and the last on her chest and belly.
A few more dribbles ended up in my hand. I looked at the warm white puddle in my
hand and then reached out and wiped it across Jean's breast. Her nipple was
pebble hard. We fell silent. Frozen in the tableau, Jean sat back on her heels,
freeing Margi's face. I fell back on my heels and looked at the wreckage. The
only sound was our panting. I couldn't really tell which was mine. Margi slowly
lifted her head and make eye contact. We looked at each other but didn't talk.
Couldn't talk. We were drained. Margi ran her finger through a glob of my cum on
her chest and looked at it. She looked back at me and then placed the tip of her
finger in her mouth, tasting me. Jean watched silently and then similarly picked
up a clot of my jism with her finger and tasted it as well. The CD was still
playing, but I'd not heard it in the past while. Gradually I heard again the
waves on the beach as I reentered reality. I looked down. I was still holding my
cock, now soft and shriveled. It looked almost pathetic, that once proud weapon
now reduced to a soft, wet noodle. Jean cupped her cunt and held it for a moment
before asking in a whisper, "Well, stud, how do you feel now?" "There are no
words." "We finally got to 'do it' Billy." "Yeah. I wonder if we'll ever get any
closer, Jean?" "I don't know, Billy. Maybe not. Maybe this is it. I just don't
know. But I am sure of one thing..." "What's that?" "We'll never be able to go
back. You can't go home again." Epilogue Because we're still very much alive,
Jean and I, there's no real ending to this story. Still, for now, it needs to
end somewhere and this is it. I've taken the remembering, the reliving, the
healing of it all as far as I needed to. I have other things to write, things
aside and away from Jean. More, I have a jazzy life to live and the vibrancy of
the moment, the here and now, is more vital than the sweet memories of what once
was. Given then and given now, it's a no-brainer. I'll go with the moment any
day. BillyG END
End
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