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Subject: Title story: "MY SISTER JEAN. Chapter 19" Author: Incest Man 47601323
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Date: Thu, 30 Jun 2005 03:15:32 +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
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