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From: Incest Man <incestman@graffiti.net>
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Subject: story "One Hot Summer" ch.1
Date: Sun, 20 Nov 2005 10:32:13 -0800
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/onehs.html
One Hot Summer
Chapter 1
She Arrives.
It was the summer of 1961. I was 14, a student in junior
high school. We lived in an affluent suburb of an upper
midwest city, in a big old Edwardian three story brick
house. My father was a very successful senior executive with
a defense company, and our lifestyle was comfortable in the
extreme. I was the eldest of 5, three girls and two boys. My
mother was essentially a housewife, but my father's position
dictated a very busy social life. They employed an older
Irish lady to cook , keep house, and "mind" the youngsters.
At the end of the '60-'61 school year, the Irish lady
announced that she would be returning to Ireland for the
summer to see her aged mother.This threw my mother into a
serious tailspin, as the thought of maintaining her heavy
social calendar, and having to keep a large house in order
was more than she could bear. After some discussion with my
father, she persuaded him that a summer replacement for the
Irish lady would be necessary if he expected her to keep up
with things. He suggested an older spinster aunt from the
east coast who was always volunteering to visit us, and she
agreed to see what could be worked out.
The old aunt did agree to help out over the summer, but the
idea of "minding the kids" was a bit much for her, and she
lacked a driver's license. She agreed to come, provided that
the kids would be someone elses responsibility.
My father reluctantly agreed that a more or less full time
baby sitter would be needed in addition to the old aunt, and
he mentioned someone at work who might be able to help. My
father's company had a large manufacturing division in the
Philadelphia area, and the manager of the plant had a
daughter who was finishing her freshman year at Penn State.
He had casually mentioned to my father that his daughter was
looking for Au Pair work over the summer break. Arrangements
were made, and my mother announced to us that we would have
this young lady in residence for the summer.
Actually, I'm a little surprised that I recall anything
about this part of the story. Remember, I was 14. My young
male brain was heavily absorbed in dealing with the newly
minted male hormones which were surging through my athletic
(and still developing) young body. In fact, what little
intellectual activity I could muster was heavily devoted to
fantasizing about uses for my male member, which was rapidly
becoming something between an embarrasment (honest, I could
have an erection thinking about a stop sign!), and an
obsession.
Well, anyway, that's how Sandy came into our lives, and mine
in particular. As the school year ended, I had little idea
of the long, hot summer it would become.
Before I describe Sandy's arrival at our house, I should
briefly describe the house itself. It was, as I said, a
large brick Edwardian house, with Tudor pretensions, built
I suppose in the 1920's. It had lovely, large high ceiling
rooms, including three "suites", each of which had a
bedroom, bath, and sitting room. My parents of course had
the master bedroom suite, the Irish lady had a suite to
herself in the back of the house over the large kitchen, and
my brother and sisters each had rooms of their own. with
adjoining baths. I occupied a suite on the third floor, all
to myself. The third floor consisted of my suite, and a
large room we called the "ballroom", which was intended to
be exactly that, but which we had made into a large indoor
playroom.
My mother decided that Sandy would occupy the Irish Lady's
suite, and the aunt would stay in our large double guest
room.
Sandy duly arrived one day in late June, shortly after the
school year ended. She was indeed sandy, with short brownish
blond hair. Slightly tall, thin, and somewhat aristocratic
looking, she had a look to match her Main Line Philadelphia
last name. In Sandy's case looks were a little deceiving,
because in short order we discovered her to be quite
pleasant and friendly, with a warm unselfconscious smile and
a disposition to match.. She had as well the most appealing,
and probably the first, Philly accent I'd ever heard.
After a few days of shuttling kids hither and yon, and
keeping an eye on the younger members of the household,
Sandy fit right in.
Part of her arrangement with my mother included two
afternoons a week, and Sundays, off. Since she was a
stranger to our city, she really didn't have much to do on
her time off, and she spent a lot of her free time the first
week just reading in her room, or, in good weather, sunning
herself in the back yard.
The first afternoon she had off after her arrival was a
particularlly warm day, with temperatures close to 90
degrees. About 1 in the afternoon I arrived home from
somewhere or other to find the house seemingly empty. My
mother, it transpired, had taken everyone, including my
aunt, to lunch and a movie matinee. I had been off with
friends playing sandlot baseball about a mile from home, and
I arrived hot, tired, and in need of a shower. I trudged up
the two flights of stairs toward my room with the shower
very much in mind. Halfway up the stairs from the second to
the third floor, I glanced out a window which overlooked our
fenced in backyard, and saw Sandy lying on her back on a
beach towel spread on the lawn. She was wearing a bathing
suit, and reading a book. Her shoulders and thighs were
glistening with suntan oil. I could see just the tops of her
small breasts move up and down as she breathed, and the
mixed oil and sweat accentuated their gentle up and down
movement. I stood on the stairway landing unmoving, watching
her breasts rise and fall. As if it had a mind of it's own,
my penis quickly stiffened and strained against the fabric
of my jockey shorts. I could feel the wetness of it's
lubrication against my shorts, and my hand reached down to
touch it. As my hand reached the swollen tip of my orgam, I
felt the warmth spreading from my quickening loins.
As I leaned against the window sill and gently stroked my
pulsing organ through the fabric of my shorts, my eyes never
left Sandy's pert, shiny undulating breasts.
After a short time, Sandy put her book aside, and reached
for the suntan oil. She unscrewed the cap and rolled over
onto her stomach. With her hands she applied oil to her
shoulders and back, then poured more oil onto her hands, sat
up, and began applying it to the backs of her thighs. When
she finished, she took her right hand, which was sitll
covered with oil, and wiped the residue onto the inside of
her thighs, stroking from the tops to the knees along the
soft, white.flesh. As she lay down on her stomach again, I
noticed that her right arm was still beneath her, and the
angle of her forearm could only place her hand down between
her legs. I gasped audibly in astonishment, and my own hand
began to stroke my raging erection.
At first Sandy lay quite still on her stomach, with her head
turned to the side, her mouth slightly open. Gradually,
through the fabric of her bathing suit I could see he small,
firm buttocks slowly begin to clench and relax
rythmically."Jesus", I whispered to myself, as my heart
raced and my knees became wobbly, "She's masturbating!".
Sandy's butt clenching rhythm, at first imperceptable and
slow, gradually became more noticeable and faster. After a
while she developed a short, staccato hip thrust movement to
accompany her buttock clenching, and her movements became
faster, and jerkier. After several minutes, she arched her
back quickly three or four times for a second or two each
time, pressing her slim hips into the earth each time and
clenching her buttocks strongly. With the last spasm, which
lasted longer than the preceeding ones, her mouth gaped, and
her face distorted. I could only imagine the sounds she was
making. Finally, with a little shake of her butt, she
collapsed onto the beach towel, gave a little shudder, and
lay still. At that moment my penis burst in the most intense
and prolonged orgasm of my young life. It literally exploded
into my tight shorts, as my knees turned to water.
It took me a moment to regain my senses. Feeling the hot,
sticky warmth of a massive ejacutation turn cold and wet
against my skin, I struggled up the final stairs to my room,
and waddled into the bathroom. After a quick, hot shower, I
threw myself onto my bed and fell into a deep and dreamless
sleep.
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