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From: "Nikki@P.U."
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.incest
Subject: SHELLY & JAKE (Mf, oral; inc, m/g, pedo)
Date: Wed, 27 Oct 2004 14:24:17 -0700
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SHELLY & JAKE (Mf, oral; inc, m/g, pedo)
The following story depicts explicit sexual contact between adult and
under aged participants. Those offended by graphic descriptions of
pedophilic/incestuous relationships should read no further. This is
entirely a work of fantasy, and does not advocate the abuse of minors in
any way, shape or form. All characters and events represented herein are
completely fictional.
SHELLY & JAKE
"You ready yet?"
Jake Blackwood gazed in at his little sister, his tall, lanky figure
slumping against the bedroom door. It was getting on towards ten-thirty
and Shelly was still dawdling about in front of the mirror. Newly
emerged from the bathroom, she stood in the middle of the room, brushing
the knots out of her long, damp hair. Pausing in mid-stroke, she glanced
over to her step-brother, upturning her pretty face to meet his lazy,
rakish smile.
"The party's not 'til this afternoon," she replied with a shrug, "I got
ages yet." Her frost-blue eyes were large but unconcerned; birthdays
were no big deal for her. Jake made a big production of looking at his
watch, although his gaze was actually wandering over her sleek, nude
figure. She was ten years old, her body ripening with the first signs of
puberty. Jake's attention strayed down her torso, taking in her huge,
red nipples, her softly pouting labia.
"Gotta be there by twelve," he reminded her, shoving his hands deep into
the pockets of his brown bomber jacket.
"That's plenty of time," she said, unconcerned. Looking back to the
mirror, she raised the brush to her tangled blond locks and resumed
reaming out the snarls. Jake made himself comfortable against the
doorframe, intent on enjoying the show. He hadn't really expected her to
be ready so early in the day; he just wanted an excuse to come upstairs
see her naked. Shelly's body was a thing of exquisite beauty; soft and
lush and ravishingly pure. The sight of her plump little vulva never
failed to arouse him: even now, he could feel his manhood bulging with
anticipation.
He'd been rather fortunate that Tracy Nesmith's birthday party coincided
with his parent's trip to Boston, otherwise they would have taken Shelly
with them. It had been nearly two months since he'd been left alone with
her, and he'd grown feverish with lust in the mean time. All the same,
he couldn't just throw her onto the bed and lay her like a human
sword-sheath. There were certain procedures he had to follow, protocols
he had to observe. Sex was always a complicated matter, no matter how
old the participants. He'd have to be patient, wait his chance to
indulge himself in her tender young girl flesh.
With any luck, he wouldn't be waiting too long.
"What did you get for Tracy?" He asked, studying the bright pink opening
of her vagina. Her cleft blazed like a wild strawberry, poised and moist
and inviting. Jake's breath shortened to quick, shallow spurts. For a
moment, he could almost feel his index finger slipping over those
tightly pursed lips, making her eyelids flicker in surprise. He adjusted
his stance once again, looking for a comfortable position. Felt like he
had a friggin' redwood taking root down there.
"I got her that new Sixties Barbie," Shelly answered, oblivious of his
roving stare, "the one with the knee boots and the rainbow dress."
Silhouetted against the bedroom window, her skin glowed with a subtle
rose hue. Her slim white tummy curved gently at the waist, as smooth as
polished marble. She stepped a little closer to the mirror,
redistributing her weight to her left side. Jake craned his neck for a
better view, noting for the first time that she was still slightly wet
from the bath. A fine layer of mist covered her golden torso, glittering
in the filtered sunlight. A large silver droplet clung to one nipple,
trembling at the very tip.
Meanwhile, Shelly was chirping on about Tracy Nesmith's doll collection,
rolling out an extensive catalogue of every Barbie ever produced in the
history of the universe. Jake wasn't following the conversation; his
attention had been irrevocably diverted. The nipple-bead filled his
entire consciousness. Eyes slitted with concentration, he drew his
tongue slowly across his lips, waiting for the drop to fall. The
suspense was agonizing. It teetered at the sheer cusp of gravity,
suspended by some process unknown to Newtonian physics. Jake began to
doubt his sanity: the droplet seemed to swell and recede with every
breath she took. He wanted to stretch her out on the bed and close his
mouth over that huge, engorged nipple; feel her gasp and squirm as he
sucked it hard between his razor-edged teeth.
I'm going crazy, Jake thought, struggling to control his shaking hands.
His belly was clutching in the throws of a titanic erection. Cold sweat
coated his face, chest and shoulders. The room was full of her scent, a
pungent blend of mint, lavender and pre-pubescent girl-thing. His eyes
darted down between her thighs, seeking out the source of the aroma. Her
pert young pussy was peeling back almost imperceptibly, the crimson lips
glistening with moisture. Jake clenched his fists inside his jacket,
wrestling with his libido. This was torture. Pure, unqualified torture.
If he didn't have her soon -
Shelly winced as the brush snagged a particularly obstinate knot
(owwww!). Jake almost collapsed with relief; this was the excuse he'd
been waiting for. The invitation had been offered - unknowingly, he
suspected - but it had been offered all the same. He had to seize the
opportunity while the door was still open.
"Want me to do that?" Jake asked, modulating his tone to make it sound
like a favor.
"Yeah, OK," Shelly agreed without a second thought. They walked over to
the bed as if by some prearranged signal, where Jake seated himself with
an air of benign indulgence (careful to avoid the party dress and white
cotton panties laid out on the coverlet). His pulse jumped into
overdrive as she padded bare-legged over to relinquish the brush into
his fingers. His weapon was literally pounding in expectation, the shaft
hardening to granite consistency. It took all of his strength to hold
himself in check. He had to take his time with her, proceed with
caution. He didn't want to scare her off, not when she was so close, so
near, so ... available.
Shelly halted a few inches in front of him, turning around to face the
mirror. Peering over her shoulder, Jake studied her reflection, drinking
in her luscious, rounded form. She stood with her hands by her side and
her right foot slightly forward. Her posture was completely relaxed:
Jake had brushed her hair at least a thousand times before. He was her
step brother; this was nothing unusual.
"All right, then," he said, placing a light hand on her waist. Her flesh
was indescribably smooth beneath his fingertips …
TO BE CONTINUED.
gm@mrdouble.com