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Subject: INCEST  "MY SISTER JEAN.  Chapter 19"                                                                                        806548
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Date: Fri, 28 Nov 2008 02:55:37 +0000

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MY SISTER JEAN.  Chapter 20

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

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