Crosswords Ch. 01
byalwayswantedto©
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"Lynn?" Mom yelled. "Have you seen Tyson?"

She burst through the half-open door just as I sprang to my feet from my sister's bed. Lynn had turned and walked to the window, trying to inconspicuously button her yellow blouse but, unfortunately, the warm summer breeze caused it to billow out from her waist, betraying its insecure state to our mother.

If I wasn't so freaked out, I would have felt sorry for Mom. The look on her face changed from confusion to disbelief to distress in mere seconds. For once, the vocabulary champion of our household was at a loss for words, though she struggled to speak.

"Where's... I... oh, you're here," she said, looking at me. Then, "Uh, what are you doing?" she directed at neither of us, and both, at the same time.

Lynn had finished buttoning her blouse. Always quicker than I, she turned around and calmly answered for us both, "Ty was wondering what I was wearing to the beach party tonight, so I was just showing him my new swimsuit."

Lynn breezed past Mom and made a quick exit from her room.

"I have to go. Chad's picking me up," she yelled after she disappeared, feet pounding down the stairs.

Mom and I were left in awkward silence, avoiding each other's eyes, but there was no ignoring the fact that when Lynn rushed past it was obvious she wasn't wearing anything under her yellow cotton blouse. Mom looked back at the door, swiveling away from me, and I looked at the floor.

"I better get dinner on," she mumbled, shuffling out the door, whatever she was calling me for now forgotten.

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The beach party was long over and it had been five weeks since Lynn left for college. She and I were the same age and, even though I wasn't as smart as my sister, I had managed to graduate. Nevertheless, there was no college education in store for me. I had applied too late for the electrician program I wanted to do and now couldn't start until January so I was just working my weekend job plus three extra shifts through the week. Mom hadn't said anything more about that day in Lynn's room but I could sense tension whenever her name came up.

Though I didn't expect it to be completely forgotten, I hoped the incident would fade sufficiently that it would never need to be discussed. I did wonder what Mom had made of it. Surely, she had figured out that Lynn had shown me her tits but did she think more had happened? Did she think Lynn and I were actually doing it?

Sure, Lynn and I had always been close and hung out with a lot of the same friends, but having sex together? Well, alright, I admit I had tried to cajole Lynn into showing me her tits but was hoping to see more, maybe even getting her to bend over so I could look at her awesome ass, but what teenager wouldn't try with a sister that looked like mine? I mean, except for smaller tits and a tighter ass, she was the spitting image of Mom, just a younger version, and Mom was a nice looking woman. When my parents hosted parties, it was obvious from a bystander point of view that most of the men frequently checked Mom out.

A very nice looking woman indeed. My mind roved over my own personal memories of Mom's body. Actually, she wasn't that old looking. Sure, her ass had more padding than Lynn's but it was still nice to look at and when she wore a dress, you could see that she had great legs. Her hair was usually worn in an older-woman style but when she shook it loose like she sometimes did at night with only family at home she looked much younger and, now that I thought about it, kind of sexy.

I dropped out of my daydream and looked down at my hand which had slipped from resting on my knee to inside my leg. Well, on my crotch, actually, cupping my balls. I shook my head hard and jumped up.

Jesus fucking Christ, Ty. Get a fucking grip.

"Tyson. Dinner," Mom yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

I started for my bedroom door but stopped to check that my prick, which was sending happy signals to my brain, wasn't swollen enough to cause embarrassment. It was noticeable but nothing that couldn't be addressed by the visions of hammers and anvils I flushed through my brain as I descended the stairs.

After dinner, Mom did her crossword puzzles, as usual, while Dad alternated between reading and glancing at the news channel. A perfectly normal night at our house. I finished the magazine I was reading and shifted closer to look over Mom's shoulder. I didn't have anything else to read downstairs and was too lazy to go up to my room to get something.

Mom was almost finished a large puzzle. Only the bottom right corner remained. I leaned closer, brushing up against her side, and she turned the book toward me a little so I could read the clues, as if I would have half a clue what the answers would be. I was hopeless at crosswords and Lynn wasn't much better. Mom was an expert and tried to get us to do them to expand our vocabulary but her message fell on deaf ears with me and Lynn only filled in the easiest words in Mom's puzzles which bugged Mom but she didn't say anything because she didn't want to discourage her.

I started throwing out goofy suggestions as I usually did when I pitched in to help Mom when she was stuck. There was no chance of me getting the right word but sometimes my inane offerings triggered something in her mind and helped her finish.

Tonight wasn't any different. At first, Mom openly laughed at my ideas but then they started making her think and she ignored my further contributions as she turned the earlier ones over in her mind. The hand holding the pencil waved me off but I leaned closer as if proximity would improve the uptake of my ideas.

My thigh brushed the side of Mom's as I moved closer and, thinking I needed room, she leaned toward the corner of the couch but I followed, hanging my head over her shoulder. As I did, my leg pressed more firmly into the underside of Mom's thigh since her leg had lifted from the couch as she leaned away from me. In fact, I was pressing against Mom's hip near the edge of her ass. Believe me, I hadn't intended to do so, it just happened.

"Aha," she cried, filling in one of the longer empty spaces. Quickly, the remaining holdouts were swept away as Mom's mind, now renewed, sped through them as if a dam had burst.

"There," she said with a flourish. "We did it."

Mom dropped the puzzle book into her lap and reached across with her left hand to pick up her cold cup of tea. For a brief moment a gap opened between the back of her thigh and mine. Again, through no conscious intention, I naturally moved closer and, in fact, slid part way under Mom. The gap disappeared when Mom set the cup back onto the saucer and sank back onto me.

"There," she reiterated.

The puzzle book was retrieved and the page was turned, Mom's face already showing that she was ready for the next challenge but it soon turned to puzzlement and mine to horror.

The next page revealed a puzzle that had already been partially completed but not by the careful hand of my mother. This script was messy, it's letters often violating the line constraints quite unlike my mother's fastidious completions. That wasn't the main problem, however. The real issue smacked me in the face far before it penetrated Mom's awareness with gentler probes, for there, in plain sight embedded within the larger scrawls were three entries that I recognized. Therre were four letters across and five down in the middle of the puzzle and another six written across the center of the bottom : "tits", "pussy", and "showme".

Mom stared at the puzzle. The muscles in her thigh pressing upon mine became tense and my body became as rigid as hers. My mind reeled and sensations flitted throughout my body, urging it to flee, but I couldn't move though I so desperately wanted to run.

Slowly, hesitantly, Mom's fingers pulled the empty right page over to cover the left, exposing a new set of virgin puzzles. We both stared at the blank page. Finally, Mom dropped the book on her leg and reached across to pick up her empty tea cup, hand shaking as she brought it to her lips. She savored the nonexistent brew for a long moment before setting it carefully down. I could have escaped then but I didn't. I simply watched Mom take her extended, make-believe sip though I could clearly see from my vantage point that the cup was empty, but I didn't move. In fact, my body even rolled toward Mom so when she sank back, my thigh was even further ensconced underneath hers and the fleshy part of her buttock now pressed into my groin.

Mom started filling in the puzzle on the right side of the page, uncharacteristically leaving the left one undone. Her fingers squiggled, moving the pencil rapidly up and down the rows and columns as she completed the easier clues so well known to her. My eyes lifted from the page and gazed blankly toward my father who, at this particular moment, was watching the TV, a book held open on his leg in his left hand. Would Mom show him what he had found and explain its significance in light of her discovery a few weeks ago?

I returned to watch Mom's fingers drive the pencil across the page and suddenly became uncomfortably conscious of the warmth of her thigh and the soft press of her buttock . Somehow the thought of that pleasant feeling escaped my skull and dropped like a stone to the source of the sensations, causing it to expand. With pure and utter horror, my mind registered the tactile sensation of my burgeoning cock. It wasn't swelling sufficiently to be noticed, at least not yet or so I hoped, but it was growing none the less. What had triggered this new feeling, at this awkward moment of all times? Well, the memory of my sister's tits, as they had accidently been presented to me on that day, bracketed by the open yellow blouse, had suddenly surged into my consciousness.

STOP, my mind screamed. Stay still!

But it didn't. I gritted my teeth and pictured a ring of large sweaty men in leather harnesses laughing as they swung enormous hammers onto my swollen balls, stretched over a large anvil next to a roaring fire. WHAM, WHAM, WHAM. Nothing, no effect whatsoever. Instead, my cock shifted as it stiffened, seeking growing space like the little tyrant it was.

Mom's fingers stopped, frozen with the pencil in the middle of forming a "G" at the begging of a word. Another uncontrolled flinch in response to a tingling sensation I couldn't ignore prompted Mom's fingers into motion, grasping the near edge of the page and pulling it over to the right, returning the book to the previous, unfinished, messy puzzle. Staring at those words again — tits, pussy, showme — caused another uninhibited flinch. My leg muscles tightened, already in receipt of the automatic commands from my brain before my conscious mind was aware, preparing to flee. Reacting to my own muscles before me, Mom's hand slipped off the book and fell onto my tensed leg, its grip silently commanding me to stay. Only when my muscles relaxed did Mom's hand release my leg and return to its former activity.

I stared helplessly at the words: tits, pussy, showme. The warmth of Mom's body, the fear of what was to come, the threatening presence of my father, even though I couldn't tear my eyes away to see if he had noticed the tension on the couch — all these things impinged on my senses but none could stop another forbidden flinch.

The pencil moved to a position under "showme". It scribbled: "leave her alone."

For the first time since I had started helping Mom with the puzzles, she turned to look at me. I nodded, slowly, in solemn affirmation. Mom nodded in return and turned back to the puzzle. I started to get up but Mom stopped me with a brief grip on my leg and the tension in my muscles abated. The page was turned and Mom began filling in the crossword again.

I alternated between watching Mom and looking at Dad but mostly I focused on Mom. I didn't just watch her fingers scribble over the puzzle; I noticed how slender and feminine they were. I admired the crook of her neck where it wasn't covered by the hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her throat pulsed gently with her breathing and my eyes descended until they registered the valley between the slight swells that yielded the first hints of the fruit filling the blouse below. My eyes explored further, past the first unsecured button and then the next where the bursting fullness confirmed that here sat a mature woman and not a mere girl.

Mom made a mistake, a rare event. She reversed the pencil and rubbed the tip across the page. It was a long word. Mom pressed the book tightly against her leg as she scrubbed the errant letters away, shaking the book and her leg, and mine below. Her bottom, by the laws of physics, wriggled, shooting blazing stars through my groin. I stifled a groan as my cock stiffened into full hardness, stretching into the remaining space in my jeans and bending outward when that was filled.

I knew my swollen member was pressing into the black material of Mom's stretchy pants but there was nothing I could do. The letters were gone but Mom continued scrubbing. Finally, she stopped and, after a brief pause, pencilled in a new word and sighed in satisfaction as it meshed with several others crossing its path.

Mom continued with the puzzle. I had hoped my erection would subside but it didn't. It was as rigid as ever but Mom paid it no notice that I could detect even though she must have felt its presence. She didn't lift her soft buttock or acknowledge its impudent presence in any way.

Twice more, Mom made mistakes. This was unprecedented. Mom never made mistakes and she had made three on this puzzle alone, all on longer words. The prolonged scrubbing to remove the offending marks didn't help my mental attempts to quell my swollen cock. Quite the opposite. I was now beyond worrying about its growth, or the rude announcement of its presence. There was nothing more it could do to attract additional attention except rub itself into Mom's bum but that ability was beyond its control. That could only happen if I allowed it.

Despite myself, I did shift my weight a couple of times. They were small, involuntary movements but they increased the tingling sensations in my cock almost beyond control. Mom still didn't react but a short time after the second one, she finished the puzzle and pulled the page back to reveal the previous one again. She stared at the offensive words for half a minute before writing below her own words, "leave her alone", adding "PROMISE" in capital letters in an empty seven-letter slot. She turned to look at me and I nodded immediately. The puzzle was covered again.

"Well," Mom said, drawing Dad's attention. "Your sister will be home in a few weeks. We'll have to plan a proper reception for her."

"She's just left," Dad said, seemingly annoyed at the interruption. "What brought that on?"

"Oh, I don't know. I was just thinking about her and hoping everything is going well. I just want everything to be perfect for her when she comes home. It must be so stressful going to college and I want her time at home to be as relaxing as it can be."

The last phrase was stated with added emphasis. Mom turned and fixed me with a steady, firm gaze. I nodded, feeling uncomfortable and seeking relief from her attention.

"I suppose so," Dad mumbled, already returning to his book though I think he'd been watching TV when Mom spoke. None of us had been to college so we had no idea what it was like there.

Mom moved to get up and I pulled back to make room. She put her hand on my leg to help herself up. I might have been imagining things but I think she squeezed it more than necessary to lift herself up.

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That night in bed I relived Mom's discovery of those incriminating words and the subsequent press of her thighs and bottom against my leg, over and over. I hadn't meant to jack off but the press of my palm along the length of my dick soon made me turn on my side so I could stroke it properly. I also didn't mean to come but couldn't stop as I beat my cock faster and faster, imagining that Mom had pushed her backside onto me on purpose. She couldn't be offering me an alternative to my sister, could she? In the frenzy leading up to my orgasm, I was sure of it but in the cold reality of the aftermath while i was cleaning up my mess, I knew it was too good to be true.

Reality offered the more truthful portent of the world. The next day, Mom's interaction with me was outwardly no different than any other day but I felt a distinct distance between us that wasn't normally there. I was hurt at first but then became angry. When my parents took up their usual respective evening positions, he reading and her doing crosswords, I initially responded in my own typical fashion: I repaired to my room to waste hours on shoot-em-up computer games. However, I couldn't keep focused and kept getting easily killed rather than winning. After less than an hour of play, I wandered downstairs, frustrated and angry, already dressed in my pyjamas and house coat.

Neither parent looked up when I entered the living room. I looked at them for a long moment, then turned into the kitchen where I waited for the kettle to boil. Patiently, I watched the tea pot steep, thinking about nothing in particular but aware that my unconscious mind was planning something. I just couldn't grasp what it was.

Mom looked up when I set a cup of tea down on the end table beside her but Dad didn't even notice his. I returned for my own mug and sat on the couch near Mom but not right beside her. She was wearing a similar outfit to the one she'd worn the day before: black stretchy pants and a white blouse. Looking at her, I realized Mom was kind of chic in a simplistic bohemian way. She had one foot resting on the coffee table and the opposite leg crossed over the knee of the first, foot dangling and toes tapping to some silent tune. She hadn't even thanked me for the tea.

At some point during my observation, I realized that Mom was aware of my perusal but acting as if she wasn't. How I knew that, I can't explain but more interesting to me was , why? I let my eyes rove over her body, from head to toe, or more to the point, from chest and along her shanks to her knees, and back again. It wasn't the tenseness I sensed in her limbs that signaled her secret discomfort but rather the almost unobservable twitches in her face. Mom was expecting something from me and she was nervous about it.

"How's the crossword going?" I asked, quietly, so as not to rouse Dad's attention.

Mom nodded, as if to say Ok, but didn't speak.

"I thought the tea might help," I said, hoping to make her feel just a little bit obligated to me.

Mom nodded again but curtly as if to say thanks but don't bother me now, I'm busy. I picked up my mug and took a sip. Carefully, I set it down on the coffee table near Mom's foot more than a foot closer to her than I currently sat. I shifted towards her on the couch.

"Is it a hard one?" I asked, peering at the book.

Mom nodded, tensely.

"Really hard," I persisted, moving even closer.

Mom shook her head slightly, grimacing in concentration.

"That hard?" I commented, closing the last few inches between us and bringing my housecoat into contact with Mom's stretchy pants. Her face twitched and the letter she was completing strayed outside it's little square.

"Why don't you take a tea break? It might help."

Mom didn't answer but a minute later, she reached over with her left hand to pick up her tea. I experienced a heartfelt appreciation of the fact that Mom was a south paw. Reaching across her right leg with her left hand to pick up her tea lifted the left off the couch, allowing me to snuggle close like I had the day before.

"Tyson. Leave me some room," Mom chided me.

"I'm just trying to see what you're doing," I said.

Mom sipped her tea, then set the cup down and returned to her puzzle. I watched her fill in a few words, then leaned across her to pick up her spare pencil from the end table.

"Tyson," she complained.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

Mom completed two more words, then appeared to be stuck. I moved the tip of my pencil toward the puzzle but she pushed it away. I tried twice more and was rebuffed both times, the last time verbally.

"Stop it," Mom cried.

Dad looked up then and smiled. He seemed to discover his tea for the first time and picked it up, draining it in one long gulp before returning to his book.

I moved the pencil toward the crossword but stopped when Mom's right hand moved up, preparing to block mine. I hovered for a moment, then withdrew. About to move forward again, I suddenly changed my mind and flipped the pencil end for end. The eraser now pointed at the book.

"Don't you dare," Mom warned, obviously thinking I was going to try to erase one of her entries.

"I wouldn't dream of it," I laughed.

Nor would I have ever dreamed that I would do what I did next. I moved the pencil, but sideways instead of forward, until it bumped against the side of Mom's breast.

There was a pregnant pause as both Mom and I reacted to what I'd done. Or, I should say, failed to react. I kept the eraser pressed against the side of Mom's breast, fascinated by the way it actually moved as she breathed, and Mom just sat, rigidly unmoving, her face still. Neither of us knew what to do next.

It could have been an accident. Was she waiting for me to acknowledge it as such, to say... sorry, or just pull it away?

In defiance of all logic, I moved the pencil, but not away. Instead, I moved it down, along the curve of Mom's breast, stopped, then dragged it up to its original point of contact and even above, still in contact with Mom's mammary. Mom glanced at Dad and I quickly shot a look at him as well. Then, the unimaginable happened. Mom raised the crossword book up so it almost stood on her crossed leg, blocking the line of sight from Dad to the tip of my pencil. Mom's own pencil once again contacted the page and another blank space became a word.

I rubbed the pencil up and down the side of Mom's breast, almost cheekily, like a spoiled kid announcing to his minder that he knew he was doing something wrong and was enjoying it all the more because he was getting away with it. Mom filled in two more words while the eraser fully explored the side of her blouse, at least the part that swelled nicely. After that, she pushed the pencil away.

I picked up my mug, took a swig of tea, and asked, "So, exactly when is Lynn coming home?"

My question hung in the air, orphaned for several long seconds until Mom responded, tersely, "Two weeks from this Saturday."

"Oh," I said. "That soon?"

"Yes," Mom's response was even more curt.

I set my cup down, but this time on the end table beside Mom, leaning over her to do so. When I settled back, I moved the eraser back onto Mom's left breast and allowed it to play along its curvature, even venturing toward the front. I dropped the pencil beneath Mom's breast, pushed it toward her and lifted her breast with it, allowing it to skid outward until the weight of Mom's breast pushed it away and bounced back to her chest. Fantastic.

When Mom tried to push the pencil away, I parried with words.

"I'm looking forward to seeing her."

Mom wrote in the book and jabbed her script. 'NO.'

I pushed my pencil toward the crossword and this time Mom didn't try to stop me.

'Then?' I wrote, in the first available four-letter space.

I returned my pencil to the top of Mom's breast, resting it there, waiting. Mom pointedly avoided looking at me but slowly returned her pencil to the book and wrote in another entry. It was the proper answer to the clue. She was doing the puzzle again.

I let the pencil lightly follow the slope of Mom's breast out until it fell over its edge. I kept it close to her breast, tracing its outline, feeling the excitement in my loins grow as it passed over the point where I knew her nipple must lie underneath the bra. I played that pencil over Mom's breast constantly, up and down, until she finished the puzzle. She started to close the book.

"Do another one, Mom," I suggested, but we both knew it was more than a suggestion.

I was actually surprised when Mom complied. By the time she was two thirds through, my pencil was rubbing all over her right breast too. By then, I had convinced myself that my tightly controlled but excited breath was matched once or twice by Mom's own. Perhaps I strayed too far when I tried, successfully, to push the top button of Mom's blouse through its hole, for the second it popped through, Mom snapped the book shut and stood up.

"That's enough," she cried sharply, then belatedly added, "for one night."

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I was exhilarated. It took me hours to get to sleep that night, even after I had emptied my balls. My poor cock was sore, I beat it so much. I fell asleep dreaming of my pencil rubbing up and down Mom's bare tits, flicking her nipples while Mom whispered to me, "Suck them, Ty."

I predicted that Mom wouldn't have a second pencil the next night. I knew she would do her crosswords. Otherwise, Dad would say something, but I knew there wouldn't be a spare pencil. Mom wasn't surprised when I snuggled up close to her and seemed to welcome me. She even thanked me for the tea that I brought.

"Are you going to help me again tonight?" she asked, smiling pleasantly.

"Every night, Mom. I love helping you do your crosswords."

Our banter was lost on Dad. His attention remained fixed on his book.

Mom seemed smugly pleased and I think she could hardly wait for my discovery of the missing pencil but her faint smile disappeared when I produced one of the pencils I had shoved in the pocket of my housecoat before coming downstairs. I immediately moved it onto Mom's breast and, resigned, she raised her book to block my nefarious activity.

I had been rubbing the pencil over her glorious breasts for almost ten minutes before I realized Mom's blouse didn't have buttons I could push undone. She was wearing a thin turtleneck sweater which I didn't notice until I moved the eraser between her upper breasts in search of a button. The faint smile returned to Mom's face.

She seemed almost eager for me to continue rubbing the pencil over her breasts after that, as if to rub it into my face that I may have outsmarted her with my pencil stash but she had bested me with the removal of the 'gates' to her bare breasts. That smile stayed on Mom's face as my anger led me to scrub the pencil over her breasts.

That roughness accidentally led me to my next victory. The eraser, because of how firmly I was scraping it over Mom's tit, dug into the bra underneath her thin sweater, and pushed it a ways down her breast before the pencil snapped over the top of the bra. The importance of that didn't immediately dawn on me but several passes later, I purposely dug the eraser into the bra and pushed, keeping the pencil tight to Mom's tit. The tip dug in, between the bra and Mom's flesh, out to the crest where I pried it outward. At the same time, I found the strap on Mom's shoulder under the sweater and pulled it over as the pencil lifted the bra over Mom's nipple and off her breast.

Mom's smile disappeared and a replacement grew on my face. The bra collapsed underneath Mom's breast which bounced freely under her thin sweater, the nipple now advertising its presence. Quickly, I pushed the pencil across to Mom's other breast and, in concert with my hand behind her shoulders, relieved it of its covering too. The bra now encircled Mom's waist below her breasts, leaving them free except for the inadequate covering of the thin sweater.

The pencil now traced the outline of Mom's breasts more accurately, and lovingly. I was surprised that Mom didn't jump up immediately and walk away but that would draw attention to herself and perhaps require an explanation for the way her breasts jostled loosely under her sweater. When I realized that, I knew that Mom was stuck. I slowed the pencil down and lightened its touch, teaching it to caress rather than probe, to titillate instead of poke.

Mom's pencil returned to the crossword and mine lovingly traced every curve, every nook and every cranny of her breasts. It favored the left breast because of its proximity but found every part of the right as well. When Mom completed the last entry, I had been teasing her nipples for several minutes and they proudly marked their places beneath the white turtleneck. Mom's hand dropped to her lap, pencil held loosely between her fingers. She sat, listlessly, while I languidly traced the eraser around her nipples. Her eyes closed.

Dad's snore made both of us jump. We stared at him, realizing that we had both dangerously forgotten about his presence. I looked at Mom and she, for the first time, looked steadily back at me. I dropped the pencil and enveloped her left tit in my hand, gently squeezing until my finger and thumb found the outskirts of her nipple, pinched and rolled it, then tugged it off Mom's chest, forcing Mom's mouth open in a silent cry.

I lowered my head as Dad's snoring resumed its rolling lilt. Mom shook her head, her eyes saying 'No' but I ignored both and brought my lips to hers. She let me kiss her but refused to part her lips for my probing tongue. I pulled back and tried to pull Mom's sweater up but it remained tightly tucked in her slacks; it must have been one of those things that wrapped around and snapped under her panties. I grasped her tit again and rolled the nipple between my fingers, tugging it up and letting it fall half a dozen times, like a little kid with his newest toy. I moved my mouth toward Mom again but she turned her face away so I redirected my head and latched onto her extended nipple, sucking it in with a mouthful of sweater. Surprised, Mom groaned quietly. I sucked, and sucked, and sucked, until Mom's hands pried my head away. She pushed me aside and got up. She was passing in front of Dad, loose and jostling tits be damned, when he awoke with a start.

"I'm going to bed," Mom snapped in response to his querying look as she rushed by.

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Mom worked the next day and I wasn't able to be alone with her until Dad went to wash his hands before supper. As soon as he left, Mom accosted me.

"That was a stupid thing you did last night with your father right there," she said, eyes flashing her anger. "I know your sister's been showing off her breasts and you want more, to touch them, but I won't have it, any of it!" She paused to take a dep breath, then continued in a softer tone, I'll let you touch mine instead, but don't you ever do anything stupid like that in front of your father again, understand?"

"Yes, Mom. I won't," I responded immediately, suitably chastised.

She may have been angry but I knew that she had been excited last night. I knew she wanted me to kiss her even though she acted like she didn't want me to. Maybe, if Dad hadn't been there, she would have let me go further but I knew if Dad hadn't been there to mute her reaction, I never would have got as far as I did in the first place.

It was a different supper that night. I couldn't keep my eyes off Mom. She looked sexy even in her conservative work suit. Mom knew I was looking and that I was looking at her not as a mother but as a woman. She also knew I was looking at her breasts, imagining them without the cover of clothes, imagining myself touching them, like I had last night. Did she know I wanted more than that, that I dreamed of fucking her?

That night, I cleaned up after dinner myself. I wouldn't let Mom in the kitchen. When I was finished I went upstairs and returned much later, after relieving myself in more ways than one in the toilet bowl. My late return was according to the plan I'd developed that afternoon, to arrive and let the games begin after Dad had rested for awhile, in the hopes that he would fall asleep again.

Mom was still wearing her business suit. I was disappointed, hoping that after her words with me before supper that she would change into something more accessible. I guess she had meant what she said about not doing anything in front of Dad. I was pissed off.

I sat down near Mom and picked up a magazine, supposedly ignoring her. Dad was reading but I could see he was already beginning to nod off. My resistance waned and I slid over closer to Mom. She smiled.

"Where's your pencil? You can't help me if you don't have a pencil."

Her smile made me suspicious. Had she removed my pencil stash earlier in the day? I reached into the pocket of my housecoat and dragged out the only one there. It wasn't one of the ones I'd put in my stash. It was an unsharpened carpenter's pencil, almost a quarter of an inch thick and half an inch wide. What had happened to the handful I'd put in there yesterday?

"You can't use that on my crosswords," Mom laughed.

She thought she had me and maybe she had. I let the pencil tap against the side of her suit jacket. This wasn't going to be any fun.

"Aren't you hot in that jacket?" I asked in a thinly veiled suggestion to make her breasts more available.

"No," Mom's smile briefly turned up in greater amusement but then returned to its original, nearly straight line.

I let the pencil fall away, resting it on her leg, and watched Mom fill in the crossword. She worked steadily, passing over clues that she couldn't do immediately but returning to them after a few more words had been completed. I tapped her skirt absently.

"Do you have to do that?" Mom asked.

"What? This?" I tapped her leg harder.

"Yes, that," Mom responded, annoyed.

"Yes," I retorted.

Mom quietly harrumphed. I looked at Dad and saw that his head was hanging over and he had slumped back in his chair. I moved the pencil across Mom's skirt, tapping as I went. It made a more hollow drumming sound as I moved onto the material stretched over the gap between her thighs, then softened to a duller thud when I reached the right leg. I tapped my way back again and noticed with perverse pleasure the tightening of Mom's jaw.

The tapping slowed as a thought slowly formed in my mind. Tap, tap, tap, tap... tap... tap... tap... tap.

Mom was about to speak, presumably to tell me that I was being extremely annoying when I suddenly stopped. Mom smiled and nodded her satisfaction. A few seconds later, I slid the pencil forward onto her bare leg and pushed it slowly along the top of her thigh to her knee, transferred to the other leg and dragged the eraser back along that thigh. Mom sighed, but I could tell she would rather put up with this new nuisance than the annoying drumming on her skirt.

Mom continued to fill in the crossword in grim silence, Dad resumed breathing steadily, and I traced the length of Mom's thighs, up one leg and back the other, sometimes switching direction on each leg. Though it was hardly noticeable, I let the pencil's path fall gradually toward the center of Mom's legs so that I was pushing and dragging the eraser along her inner thighs. Mom seemed ok with this which may be why I became bored with it. I decided to push the envelope a little more.

For the hundredth time I dragged the pencil back to the hem of Mom's skirt but this time I 'accidently' dropped it between her legs. The eraser end fell to the couch between the more open end of Mom's legs near her knees but the other, as yet unsharpened tip lodged between the meaty part of Mom's thighs, leaving the pencil on an upward angle of about thirty degrees or so. I rooted around between Mom's legs fumbling the pencil as I tried to pick it up. With each 'fumble', Mom's legs gave way a little as my hand twisted about. I finally managed to regain my grip on the pencil but at the eraser end near Mom's knees.

The pencil resumed its exploration but it now ventured under Mom's skirt, sliding up the inside of her legs until it jammed between the fleshy part of her upper thighs. Mom was momentarily startled and so, in fact, was I, by the sheer brazenness of my act. I wasn't sure how this would go over or what to do now that the pencil was stuck in the thickness of Mom's inner thighs.

Mom glanced at Dad. I did too. He wasn't snoring but his he was breathing more heavily and his eyes were still closed. Nevertheless, I was afraid because he could open his eyes at any moment and start reading again. Surprisingly, Mom looked back at her puzzle as if nothing was amiss. I stared at the book and her motionless hands, at a loss of what to do next, my courage failing me.

Dad snorted and his eyes opened. He shook his head and began to read as if he had never been dozing. Mom lifted the crossword book and set it down on her legs in front of my hand, the one holding the pencil. I took this as a sign and pulled the pencil back, away from Mom's knees. It wiggled it between her legs but she trapped it before it got very far and cast a wary eye at Dad. I remembered Mom's warning not to do anything stupid again in front of Dad but kept wiggling the pencil anyway, just to be a nuisance if nothing else; I don't know why. Mom casually filled in another word, ignoring me, as if she was above my annoying behavior.

I felt I had won something and now wiggled the pencil with a vengeance, twisting it this way and that. The unsharpened end was not as soft as the eraser end and Mom's legs momentarily gave way with each new foray. I found that if I held the pencil flat, Mom's legs would yield more to its width and that quickly snapping it vertical to make it thinner would allow it to slide even further between her thighs. After only a dozen such advances the pencil was quite far under Mom's skirt and I had dragged the hem back quite a ways to let my hand keep up with the pencil's advance. It suddenly struck me that the pencil must be almost touching Mom's panties which triggered another realization. Mom's legs hadn't been squeezing very tightly to impede the pencil's progress. I stilled my hand and, in reaction, Mom's legs tensed around the pencil, but then slowly relaxed when it didn't move.

Dad made a sound and both our heads snapped up to look at him.

It was a snore. His head leaned to one side, our side. If he opened his eyes now, he would be looking directly at us.

Together, we watched Dad for at least a minute. We were absolutely still. Then, I moved the pencil the tiniest bit. My breath caught when I realized that Mom's legs didn't try to stop it, not even a single clench. I pushed it a little more and still encountered no resistance. A little more. I looked down at Mom's skirt to see it bunching up behind my hand as I dragged the pencil even further back. Resistance completely disappeared and I realized the pencil must have reached the open triangle at the crux of Mom's thighs, directly in front of her panties. I twisted the pencil so the flat part would face down and pushed. It collided with Mom's panties in a silent thud that reverberated up my arm.

I turned to look at Mom. She was staring at Dad, her mouth open with a strange, strained look on her face. I pushed the pencil back and forth, skidding its flat side over the gusset of Mom's panties, trying to exert a firm pressure. Mom's mouth opened more but though her expression intensified, no sound spilled forth.

Back and forth, back and forth, I rubbed that heavy carpenter's pencil. Mom seemed to be paralyzed, incapable of motion and quite unable to stop me. I could even feel her pushing against the pencil now as I scraped it across her panties. Oh yeah, there was no doubt, she was horny, real horny. I wanted to turn to her, to shove her skirt up and get my fingers inside her panties and into her cunt but I knew I couldn't. If Dad woke up, everything would be ruined. Right now, he might be taken aback by Mom's strange expression, but the crossword book still blocked his view of my hand and the pencil, and my posture sitting beside Mom made it look like I was simply helping her with the crossword puzzle. That would all be changed if I turned toward Mom so no matter how much she looked like she would let me, I couldn't do it.


I stopped moving the pencil and Mom's hand dropped onto mine, as if to urge it back into motion, but it didn't. Her limp fingers felt soft and feminine on the back of mine. I pulled the end of the pencil up, lifting Mom's skirt, and twisted it so the thin edge was toward Mom's panties. Immediately, I felt it nudge into a soft and yielding groove that somehow felt damp though I knew I couldn't really sense that. I wiggled the pencil and Mom's hand left mine to cover her mouth. Abruptly, I jiggled the pencil up and down, working it into her pantied slit, surprising her so completely her hand closed tightly around her mouth to stifle the moan that threatened to rip out of her throat.

Dad snored loudly, caught his breath and snored again, then twisted his head away from us. I could see his eyes open as his head turned and fear made me jerk my hand and the pencil out of Mom's skirt. Mom leapt to her feet and barked that she was going to bed as she hurried on unsteady feet in front of my still not-really-awake father. I grabbed the crossword book and gathered my housecoat about me, pulling my knees up and lowering the book to hide my enormous erection.

"I think I dozed off," Dad said, shaking his head and looking at me. "Has your mother gone to bed?"

"Yeah," I croaked. It was all I could manage. When I did manage to escape, I half ran up the stairs, my cock getting even harder as I realized the tip of the pencil was indeed damp.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Something told me to avoid Mom the next day so after supper, I didn't join her on the couch, even to sit at the far end. Her abrupt departure signaled that I had perhaps transgressed a boundary. If I stayed away and let things settle down maybe I could take up where I had left off. Why, oh why, had I done that fool thing with the pencil? What had come over me? Mom was clearly upset. At breakfast and dinner her whole body tensed up when she had to interact with me, which she kept to a minimum. So I decided to stay away and let it blow over.

I was completely immersed in a game when my mind suddenly filled with dread at the thought of Mom coming up to my room to confront me about my behavior the previous night. Wihtout Dad nearby, Mom wouldn't be restrained and a fight now could ruin everything. I quit the game and got up, searching for a book, anything that I could pretend to read downstairs until Mom went to bed. That's when the message came through. Lynn was Skyping me.

"Hey bro."

Lynn looked fantastic in a man's open-neck t-shirt that clung tightly to her breasts. In the background, I could see her roommate. I couldn't remember her name but in red bra and panties, who could give a shit? Lynn noticed the direction of my gaze.

"I'm right here, bro."

I blushed and looked back at Lynn.

"So what's been happening on the home front?"

"Nothing. Same old, same old."

Lynn was happy with my expected brief response and quickly launched into a recap of her adventures which was probably what she'd called about anyway. My attention wandered to her roommate's body, flitting about in the background, evidently in the process of getting dressed but somehow managing to remain in just bra and panties. Not that I minded. Her body was just as nice as Lynn's. More streamlined, but nice.

When I had sat down, I had closed my housecoat tight but as I listened to Lynn and watched her roommate, I began tenting uncomfortably in my shorts. I shifted the chair closer to the computer to hide what I was doing and pushed the waistband of my underwear down to free my painfully bent cock. I knew the webcam didn't show anything below my chest but I wanted to be certain. As Lynn talked, I absently fiddled with my cock and eventually starting stroking it. The thrust of her tits under the t-shirt and her roommates body prancing around filled my head with lecherous thoughts that I couldn't ignore. I was feeling pretty smug knowing I was wanking off in front of them and getting away with it. It really added a delicious twist.

"So, I was wondering, Ty."

Here is comes, I thought. The real reason for her call.

"Tessa's coming home with me for the fall break."

Lynn paused to let that sink in, half turning around in a stretching twist that arched her tits hard enough against the t-shirt to make it obvious she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"You're coming, aren't you Tessa?"

Tessa turned her pretty face briefly toward the computer to nod enthusiastically. The whole movement was designed to call attention to Tessa's body which was at that moment facing away from the computer and bent over, providing a magnificent view of Tessa's ass, or should I say, a view of Tessa's magnificent ass.

"So, you can let me use your car for the week, can't you, to show Tessa around?"

There it was. Slid in with her usual precision at exactly the right moment. My sister, the master manipulator. Lynn had turned back to catch me red-handed, gawking at Tessa's fabulous ass.

"You will, won't you?" Lynn purred.

I was nodding my head already, of course, though my answer hadn't yet fully formed in my mind.

"Of course," I finally managed to squeak.

That's when my door opened and Mom walked in. Lynn quickly moved her shoulders to the left to block the view of Tessa's ass and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Mom!" she cried, in glee.

I, of course was frozen in my chair, except that my head had automatically moved to the right in an obvious effort to see past Lynn for a last glimpse of Tessa's finely sculptured posterior. Tessa, bless her soul, wasn't much faster than I.

"Hi darling. How are you?" Then, impatiently to me, "Tyson, why didn't you call me?"

Mom was pulling my extra chair over from the wall which thankfully gave me time to realize my cock was sticking up through my housecoat. As she pushed the chair against mine, I managed to cover myself in the motion of rising to move my own chair to make room for hers. The housecoat pulled tightly around myself, I was neverthelessl acutely conscious of the fact that my cock was still sticking out of my shorts. Shit!

Mom and Lynn launched into an animated exchange quite unlike their normal interactions at home. I guess they really did miss each other. I kept still, relieved that I was able to cover myself but painfully aware that under the housecoat, my cock still protruded from my underwear. I couldn't very well slip my hand inside my robe to fix it and it simply wouldn't soften up. Maybe it was because I got off on the fear of discovery — after all, my housecoat could fall open if I wasn't vigilant — or maybe it was because, with Mom and Lynn yacking excitedly, I was free to watch Tessa who still cavorted about in the background. Whatever the reason, I had a very hard cock under my robe.

"Yeah, so Ty's going to let me use his car to show Tessa around," Lynn announced.

"Really?" Mom responded, glancing at lanky Tessa who was once again bending over to get something out of a drawer. She looked back at Lynn. "So I guess you won't be around the house much, then?"

"Well, I really want to show Tessa around," Lynn said, apologetically, "and we're going to sleep over at Laura's a couple of nights so she can meet the rest of the girls."

Tessa's butt was wiggling around in the red panties as she searched for something in the drawer, the muscles in her legs straining with the effort. I gawked when her cheeks alternately tensed as her butt swayed about. Lynn was oblivious but Mom noticed and I think she also noticed something else: my robe had slipped off my legs, leaving my shorts exposed, with my cock sticking up past the waistband. My immediate urge was to recover the robe to cover myself but I didn't want to make a sudden move in case I was wrong about Mom noticing. I slid my hands down to grasp the edges of my robe but Mom stopped me by setting her hand squarely on me, her palm covering the part of me that extended out of my shorts . She kept her eyes fixed on Lynn.

"Well," Mom said, "I guess Tyson and I will have to amuse ourselves, then."

I felt a light downward pressure on my dick.

"I'm sorry, Mom. We'll try to be home as much as we can."

"No, no. That's alright. You girls have your fun. I know you need to let off some steam. Tyson can keep me company. God knows your father won't."

There was a definite squeeze and it felt like my cock grew a whole inch out of my shorts.

"How is Dad?" Lynn asked.

"Oh, you know your father."

Mom told Lynn about some of the things Dad had recently done to annoy her. As she talked, Mom massaged my cock with gentle squeezes. She did it offhandedly without compromising her expression and without any hesitation in her speech. At one point, the conversation became more animated and Mom's fingers curled around my shaft and began stroking it. Her fingers stretched inside my shorts but her palm continued massaging the underside of my tip, mashing the helmet against my stomach. Unlike Mom, I struggled to maintain my composure.

"Is something wrong, Ty?" Lynn asked.

"What?" I asked, startled, certain my face wore a guilty look. "No, I'm fine."

"You don't look very well."

"I'm fine. My stomach's a little upset, that's all."

"You can go. I don't mind," Lynn said.

Mom turned and, for the first time, looked down at me. She lifted her hand and patted my stomach.

"I think he's alright," she said, then turned back to Lynn, resuming their conversation where it had left off.

Mom's hand dropped onto my cock again and reached far enough into my shorts that her fingers could grasp my balls which she started squeezing with steadily increasing, pulsing pressure.

"Ty, you really don't look well," Lynn cried.

Mom's grip was getting painful but she released me when Lynn spoke.

"Yeah, I think I'd better go," I mumbled, turning and almost falling off my chair so I didn't expose myself as I stood up. I stumbled to the door and exited the room, my cock waving about over the waistband of my shorts which was stretched underneath my balls. I ran awkwardly for the bathroom , my hand already starting to stroke my cock. My aching balls need release, fast!

I was cleaning myself up when Mom paused by the partially open bathroom door that in my haste I had forgotten to close.

"Two can play hardball, you know."

She was gone before I could speak.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

What the fuck had happened? Mom had just calmy jacked me off in front of my sister. Her comment made it sound like it was punishment for the night before but she had still taken my cock in her hand. I just wanted to look at and feel her tits and she was willing to hold my cock? I realized now that I'd been playing a game with Mom and I had no idea how big the playing field was. I could hardly wait to get home from my stupid job the next day. I desperately needed to be with Mom, without Dad around.

I waited until later in the evening before going downstairs. I sat a ways from Mom, leafing disinterestedly through a magazine. She glanced at me a couple of times but I remained aloof until she patted the couch beside her and invited me to help her with her crossword. I declined.

"Suit yourself," she said nonchalantly but sounding a little miffed.

Quite a while later, Mom spoke quietly to Dad, "Gary, why don't you go up to bed. You're falling asleep."

Dad shook his head and looked bleary-eyed at Mom. "Am I?"

"Yes," Mom said.

"I suppose I should hit the sack, then." Dad got up and looked at Mom. "Are you coming?"

"After I finish this crossword," Mom replied.

Dad stumbled over to Mom, leaned over, and gave her a kiss. "I'll wait up for you," he said.

"Alright, dear."

Mom continued her crossword after Dad left and I kept pretending to read my magazine. It was kind of ridiculous, really. Finally, Mom looked at me.

"Come over here. You know you want to."

I declined again.

"I'll let you see them if you like."

"No, it's ok."

"I know you lent your car to Lynn so she would be out of the house, removing temptation, so to speak. I appreciate that. If you come over here, I'll let you touch them."

I remained silent. After that offer, I have no idea why.

"Suit yourself," Mom said in a minor huff and returned to her puzzle.

I put my magazine down. If we were going to play games, I was going to go for it. I wasn't going to settle for just touching up her tits. I opened my robe. I was naked underneath and my cock sprang to attention. I held it loosely with my fingers at the base, keeping it straight upright. It took Mom a moment to notice.

"Good God, Tyson," she cried. "Put it away."

I shook my head and smiled arrogantly.

"You don't really think just because I touched it I can't do without it, do you?"

"No," I stammered, shocked by the accuracy of her assessment.

"Women don't go gaga just because they touched a man's cock. At least, not outside porn movies," Mom laughed.

The only good part about the direction this was taking was Mom referring to my dick as a man's cock. Still, I didn't know what to do now. I felt kind of silly but I couldn't just stuff it back under my robe like a dog with my tail between my legs.

"Honestly, Tyson. Put it away."

I stubbornly refused.

Mom started doing her puzzle again and I continued waving my pole around. The silly feeling intensified but I kept waving it around. I didn't know what else to do. I had almost decided to put it away and ask if she'd like some tea to get back in her good books when Mom cast a long sideways glance at my hard dick. I pretended not to notice but tried to make my cock stand up higher, tightening my groin to make it even prouder. Mom glanced at it again. I strained upwards several times and stroked it lightly with my left hand.

"Oh, for God's sake Tyson." Exasperated, Mom put her book down and looked up the stairs where the light from her bedroom was shining into the hallway. Dad had left the light on for her. She looked at me, down at my cock, then back at my face. She whispered, "Do you want me to touch it again? Is that what you want, for me to touch it for you?"

I nodded, holding her gaze steadily, surprised that I had the balls to do it.

"Alright, but just this once. Come over here then," Mom patted the couch beside her.

I shook my head, slowly stroking my now huge erection. Mom stared at it, and for the life of me, I thought I saw a speck of moisture glinting at the corner of her mouth.

"Brat," she said and shifted toward me on the couch. She leaned over on one elbow and reached with her other hand, encircling my shaft with her soft fingers, then moved them up to displace my hand. "There," she cooed. "Does that feel better? Is that what you want?"

I nodded. I could neither speak nor breathe. It felt absolutely wonderful.

"A woman's hand feels so much better, doesn't it," Mom purred, stroking my cock steadily, pausing to rub her palm around the head, pinching as her fingers slid down the shaft and circled around the base for an extra squeeze before rising back to the tip. I was already breathing hard.

"Do you like the way Mommy's hand feels," Mom teased, stroking me faster. "Do you like Mommy's hand on your cock?"

Her throaty voice almost made me come on its own. I nodded vigorously, my head jerking up and down, thrilled and irritated at the same time by the reference to herself as 'Mommy'.

"Do you want me to show you my tits tomorrow, like I promised?"

I jerked my head again. Mom's strokes were catching up to the speed of my neck. I was ecstatic. She had said before she would show me her tits and maybe even let me touch them but she had never promised.

"I can't now, because your Daddy's upstairs waiting for me," she panted.

My head snapped up to stare at the top of the stairs.

"That's right," Mom rasped, jacking me hard now. "Think how angry your Daddy would be if he knew what you were making me do."

I had been about to come but the thought of my father standing at the top of the stairs, glaring down at us, then coming to get me made my cum, already starting to surge forth, freeze in my nuts. That's when Mom lowered her head and took my head into her mouth. My hips lurched up, trying to shove the rest of my cock inside but she pulled back, not allowing another inch inside. I kept lunging, trying to fuck her face but Mom withdrew and licked my tip, her tongue swirling all around the helmet. I started to come and tried to hold Mom's head in place but she jerked it back and slammed my cock against my stomach, holding it tight while I spurted all over my heaving abdomen. Mom waited until I was fully spent before speaking.

"This was a one-time thing, Tyson. It was your doing, so don't get hung about it, and don't expect it to happen ever again."

She closed my robe over my chest and wiped her hand clean on the outside. Then, she leaned close and kissed me gently on my lips. She spoke in a very throaty voice, "You were a lovely boy and you've become quite a man but you have to know that I won't let you fuck me."

The way she said 'fuck' had a sound all its own and despite the negative statement the tone was full of promise. Mom kissed me quickly again, smiled sweetly, and was gone. I watched her body swaying as she climbed the stairs, still stunned by her graphic language, and thought, I want to fuck you so badly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I had to work the next morning at nine. Dad had just finished his breakfast when I came downstairs. He pushed his plate away and pulled his coffee closer before sticking his nose in the morning paper. Mom was already drinking her coffee and reading the arts section. Dad was dressed for work and Mom was wearing her everyday housecoat. As I made my breakfast, I wondered what she was wearing underneath the robe and whether or not she would honor her promise to show me her tits or if she had just said that to work me up, knowing she was doing it for only one time. I figured that if I rushed, I would have at least half an hour home alone with Mom before Dad got there. Maybe she'd show me then.

I watched Mom as I ate my breakfast. As with dinner so many nights ago, I knew Mom was aware of my observation even though she gave no outward indication that she was. Though there was no suggestive gap in her robe I let my eyes linger on her breasts, then let them travel slowly down her torso to her lap and along her thighs. I followed her bare leg from the point where the robe parted just above her knee down to her bare foot which dangled above the slipper that had fallen to the floor under the table. Mom had nice legs and I hoped I would have a chance to touch them again. I could hardly wait until my shift was over and it hadn't even started yet. I looked at the clock. Maybe if I started a little early, I could get off sooner.

"I better get going," I said, gobbling an entire half piece of toast.

"Slow down and eat your breakfast properly, Tyson," Mom admonished me. "I thought you didn't start until nine today?"

I was surprised that Mom knew my shifts. "That's right, I said.

"Well, then, eat properly." Mom turned to Dad. "Gary, you should get going dear or you're going to be late."

"Oh," Dad said, looking at the clock. "Yes, I'd better get going."

He got up, drained his coffee and walked to the hall closet. Mom accompanied him and helped him with his coat, then picked his briefcase up and handed it to him, holding her face toward him for a quick peck before he turned and walked out to his car. Mom closed the door and walked back to the kitchen.

"Eat slowly, Tyson. It isn't healthy to gulp your food."

I looked at the clock. It was almost eight-thirty. If I ate properly, I wouldn't be able to get home early. Mom was clearing away her dishes and putting them in the sink. As she returned to get Dad's dishes, I resigned myself that I would get at most half an hour with Mom after work before Dad got home; not much time to see and sample her wares. I put another piece of toast into my mouth and my jaw stopped.


Mom was picking up Dad's fork, very slowly. Her robe was undone to the belt cinching it at her waist and the top had fallen open, putting her tits on full display because she wasn't wearing a bra or a nightie. Mom took the fork, all by itself, to the sink and returned slowly. I watched her all the way, fascinated by the jostling of her breasts as she moved. Mom put one hand on the table and bent over, very slowly, to pick up Dad's knife, breasts swinging out from her chest. The robe was looser now, allowing more to be seen. Straightening up, she walked leisurely to the sink and returned just as slowly. The belt had loosened substantially and as Mom bent to pick up Dad's cup, leaving the saucer behind, it came completely loose. Mom deposited the cup in the sink and returned at a snail's pace to the table. The robe was gapping apart its full length and I could now see that Mom was completely naked. She wasn't even wearing panties!

Suprisingly, Mom's pendulous breasts lost my attention. Even those magnificent orbs couldn't compete with the slash of hair now visible, now gone, then there again as the robe flapped across Mom's front. She picked up Dad's glass and very, very slowly held it up to look at it in the kitchen light on the ceiling behind my head, the light that wasn't even on. The robe fell completely open as Mom stretched her arm up and I was treated to a full-on frontal view of Mom's breasts, belly, and pussy. Her tits were divine, slinging down and jutting out with nipples just the right size atop nicely rounded swells of flesh. Her belly pouted out around a large, recessed navel poised just an inch or two above a narrow band of hair that dropped like a brown waterfall spilling on either side of the slit so plainly portrayed in front of me. I licked my lips... actually licked my lips.

Mom looked down and smiled at me. She walked to the sink, deposited the glass, and regarded me with an even larger smile. I looked at Dad's plate and saucer on the table and then swung back to her, waiting for the leisurely walk to begin. Mom didn't move. She looked up at the clock.

"You'd better hurry if you want to touch them . You only have a few minutes."

I leapt to my feet, almost falling over my chair in my hurry to get to her. Mom's laughter tinkled through the room. I rushed up to her and then stopped, hands hovering over her tits. Slowly, with respect, I lowered them, looking in her eyes for confirmation that I was indeed allowed. Mom's eyes sparkled, whether with amusement or excitement I didn't know, nor did I care. I let my palms and fingers fold around her breasts, cupping their weight and squeezing gently.

"They're magnificent," I cried.

"Do you really like them?" Mom asked, arching her back and thrusting her nipples into my palms. "They've been around for a long time and they're not nearly so nice as they used to be."

"They're perfect," I gushed, swirling my hands around her orbs, trying to maximize tactile contact in the short time I had left. "Just perfect," I repeated.

Mom giggled. "I'm so glad you approve, sir," she laughed. Her hands curled around my neck and I dipped my head so I could watch her gorgeous tits moving in my hands. I tweaked her nipples, flicked them gently back and forth, circled them in my fingers and pinched and tugged them. I was thrilled when they stiffened and doubled in size and length in response to my manipulations. She may have been doing this for a purpose but I could see with my own eyes that Mom liked what I was doing and I could tell from her breathing that she was excited. When she stopped me, Mom was panting just as much as I was.

"It's five to, sweetie. You have to go."

I groaned and gripped her tits harder.

"No, it's time sweetie. Away you go."

Mom pushed me away. I straightened up, took one last, long look and turned away.

"Hey," Mom yelled before I reached the kitchen door. "Aren't you going to kiss them goodbye."

She leaned back against the counter and laughed as I frantically made my way back to her. She cupped her left breast and held it up to me, feeding her stiff nipple into my mouth.

"That's it, baby," Mom cooed. "Suck it. Yeah, it likes to be sucked. Hard... suck it long, that's it. Ohhhhhh."

I let my hands slip down to encircle Mom's waist, steering it around in a small circle, or maybe I was just holding on while she churned her pelvis around. She pushed toward me and pulled away, arching her back to thrust herself into my mouth, her hands roving through my hair, guiding my head into the angle she wanted. She let me suck her breasts for all of three minutes. It felt like an eternity and at the same time, just an instant. Finally, she pushed my head away hard, as if convincing herself that it was time to quit.

"Go to work, baby," she croaked.

Mom's eyes were wild. With her hair so disheveled, she looked... well, horny, really horny. My eyes left her tits, soaked with my saliva, and traveled down her belly to her pussy which sported a sheen of its own.

"Don't," Mom objected. "There's nothing for you down there. Now, go to work, you're late."

Despite her words, Mom didn't cover herself. Reluctantly, I turned away, thinking, Then why show it to me?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was Thursday evening. Lynn would be home on Saturday; two more days. If I was going to get further with Mom, it had to be done before then, although I have to say, I had my doubts that my newly found but limited access to her charms was simply offered to dissuade me from seeking the same from my sister. That may have been the way it started but there were now three incidents in which I suspected the driving force had been illicit sexual titillation based upon the fear of potential discovery: Twice on the couch in front of Dad and once in my room in front of Lynn. The morning's episode was due to raw, unsubdued lust, despite the lack of a potential audience. I wasn't sure Mom could contain herself but I didn't want to risk what I felt could be mine just in case she could. I had the feeling that anything was possible until Saturday, despite her denial, but after that the door could slam shut.

I rushed home and nearly got into an accident when I ran a red light. I didn't even see it. All I could see was Mom waiting for me in the kitchen with a sexy smile on her face, still dressed in her unbelted robe with her tits and pussy fully exposed, one still sporting my saliva and the other shining from its own intimate dew. It was blind luck that I didn't T-bone the one car in sight. Only the young mother's shocked face — there was a baby seat behind her — pulled me out of my reverie. Thankfully, Dad wasn't home yet. Shaking from my recent close call, and in anticipation of what I would find waiting for me, I hurried to the door.

Mom was on her cell, fully dressed in a conservative white blouse and medium-length black skirt with low heeled shoes. She was talking to Dad. She smiled at me and turned away, stopping when her profile offered the best view of the breasts pushing out her blouse. She was wearing a bra.

"No, I don't need anything, dear. Just come straight home."

Mom pulled the phone away from her ear, pushed a button to end the call and let the phone slide from her hand onto the table.

"You're home early, sweetie. I thought you might have to work a little later to make up for this morning."

Why was she reminding me about this morning if she wasn't going to let me do anything else? That was just plain mean.

"But that's perfect. I'd like to get dinner over early tonight so I can go out with the girls. Help me set the table."

That was shoving in the knife and giving it a little twist. Not only did I not get to do anything this afternoon, but tonight was off limits too, and to serve it all up, I was reminded of the morning's teasing by handling knives and forks, glasses and plates. Just swell!

Dinner was over quickly just as Mom wanted. She suggested I clean up by myself. Helen was picking her up, she explained, and she had just enough time to get ready. When Mom came downstairs, she had changed into a mostly black and dark brown blouse with swirls of orange and darts of yellow that highlighted her bosom which seemed much more evident and available ensconced within the silkier material. The new blouse dipped between her breasts far enough to provide a glimpse of the half-bra containing her not-so-motherly-looking assets. Mom pulled a lipstick from her purse and applied it in exaggerated fashion to her pouting lips in the entranceway mirror. When she was done, she grabbed a coat from the closet and walked into the kitchen where I was standing near the doorway. It seemed to me that Mom held her upper arms close to her sides which pushed her breasts forward but that may have been an illusion on my part.

"Wish me a good evening, Ty" she whispered for no apparent reason, holding her face up to one side for a kiss on her cheek. "It's lady's night."

I leaned down to kiss her cheek but she turned at the last moment and my mouth landed on her moist, pouting lips. Mom kept her lips closed but let the kiss linger for several long seconds.

"Muuahh," she said, pulling away with a smack.

Mom handed me her coat and turned around. I dutifully helped her get it on and she walked into the living room to say goodnight to Dad. I followed and leaned against the jamb in the kitchen doorway. I heard a car pull into our driveway.

"Helen's here," I announced.

Mom stepped to the door. "Don't wait up, Gary. I'll probably be a little late."

"Ok, dear. Have fun and say hi to Helen."

Mom opened the closet, kicked off her low-heeled pumps and slipped a pair of high-heels on, holding onto the closet door to steady herself while she lifted each foot in turn. She smiled at me and winked as if including me in her conspiracy. She opened the door and looked back at me before closing it, her lips moving silently.

"See you later."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I played video games all night and tried without total success to keep my hand off my cock. Visions of Mom, however, would not allow total abstinence. About ten, I sauntered downstairs and put the kettle on to make tea. I didn't know what Mom meant by getting home 'late' because she didn't go out very often without Dad. I just knew I wanted to be there when she got home with a pot of hot tea ready and waiting for her.

Dad was alternating between watching the news, reading a book, and nodding off. He was dozing when the tea was ready so I didn't bother asking him if he wanted any. I sat down with a tall, narrow mug — the kind I favored because I liked my tea plain and piping hot — and tried to finish some of Mom's partially completed crosswords. I didn't have much success. Like I said, I wasn't very good at these and Mom did the hard ones. What I did manage to accomplish was a full size boner while reviewing the comments written into the puzzles that had started everything rolling between us. I played each incident that happened in the past two weeks over and over in my mind. I was stunned that so much had happened in two short weeks, weeks that had changed my life.

Dad was snoring. I wondered whether it would be better to have him sitting there snoring when Mom came home or upstairs out of the way. If he was there, would she sit down or wake him and go upstairs with him? She seemed to get off on the danger of his or Lynn's presence so if he wasn't there, would she just go up to bed? After all, she hadn't been dressed in an encouraging way when I got home. Then again, the way she had mouthed her departing words at me after 'secretly' slipping into high-heels was definitely seductively played. I decided to take my chances with Mom alone. I didn't want to furtively feel her up, I wanted another sexual experience like she had granted in my bedroom and the kitchen. In fact, I wanted even more. I'd get rid of Dad and make sure she knew I had hot tea ready for her — and biscuits, those European ones she loved. Where the hell were they?

"Dad." I shook his shoulder. "Dad." Several more shakes. "You've been sleeping for almost an hour. You should go to bed."

"Is your mother home?"

"Not yet."

Dad closed his eyes and slumped further into his chair. I roused him again.

"Dad. Mom said not to wait up for her. She'll be mad if you sleep in tomorrow."

Dad's eyes opened. "Right," he said, struggling to get up. I held out my hand and he pulled himself up. "Are you waiting up for her?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Good boy," he said and shuffled up the stairs.

I rushed into the kitchen in a mad search for those biscuits. Mom could be here any minute. I returned to the living room and sat in Mom's spot. I ignored the crossword book and watched TV instead.

I made three more pots of tea though I only drank the one mug. Each one got cold and the last one had also become decidedly warm when lights flashed on the windows from a car pulling into our driveway. A door shut and I heard Mom and Helen exchanging goodbyes. It was after midnight, almost twelve-thirty. I got up to meet Mom at the door but it opened before I could get there and she slipped inside, closing the door and leaning back against it.

"Whew," she exclaimed. "That was fun. Is your father still up?"

I shook my head. Mom held her purse out to me which I took and held while she unbuttoned her coat. She shrugged it off her shoulders and handed it to me to hold as well. With one hand on the closet door, Mom leaned over to slip a high-heel off her raised foot. It appeared to be even more of a struggle than it had been to put it on. One would have thought the opposite would be the case. Half bent over toward me the way she was, I noticed that her blouse had slipped a button or two since she had left. Immediately, my cock began to tingle and swell.

"We danced and danced. We had so much fun," Mom gushed.

She looked up at me and I blushed because she caught me looking straight down her blouse at her loosely hanging breasts. She was almost spilling out of the little black half-bra she was wearing. Mom smiled and switched feet, holding her hand out for me to steady so she could use the other one to remove her remaining shoe. Her tits jiggled and the blouse seemed to become even more revealing.

"I couldn't believe how many young men wanted to dance with me," Mom giggled. "I think Helen was a bit annoyed with me but she's the one who asked me to go so she wouldn't be alone."

Helen had been divorced for almost a year and was actively looking around. From what I could gather about Mom's comments, she was more interested in sex than finding romance. Her husband had left her for a younger woman and she seemed to be out to prove that her performance in the sack wasn't the reason. She had even flirted with Dad when she was tipsy at the last barbecue to which Mom reacted with hilarity rather than anger. She can have that part of him, she had said to me the next morning, to my embarrassment.

"Mom, any guy would rather dance with you than Helen, especially wearing that blouse."

Mom dropped her remaining heel and stood up. "Oh, do you like this blouse?" She pushed her heels up from the floor and straightened her back, thrusting her chest forward. Her hands pressed palm-in to her sides and she twisted slightly to and fro. "It's pretty isn't it?"

I gulped and nodded. It certainly was. Mom's smile grew, acknowledging my appreciation, and so did something else.

"Thanks for waiting up for me, sweetie. Did you make me some tea?"

She brushed past me and sauntered into the kitchen, giving me plenty of time to fill my eyes with her sassy figure. Mom had legs that would never need nylons. Funny I hadn't noticed them much before. They looked so quintessentially feminine, just the right amount of soft flesh, not too thick and not too slender... just perfect. I especially liked the way her skirt didn't hug her butt too tightly yet let it's ample presence be known.

Yep, Mom knew how to dress classy, but then, she had once had professional help in designing her appearance. Mom had been a local TV newswoman, slated for the anchor's job until she married Dad. She had always been good looking but professional enhancement made her a target for every self-described Don Juan around. She quickly tired of them and that's how she hooked up with Dad, a mild-mannered accountant type who couldn't quite understand how he managed to end up with such a beautiful woman. Mom married Dad and then quit her career when she became pregnant with Lynn and me. She hadn't returned to full-time work after Lynn and I entered school which became a bone of contention between her and Dad but Mom got her way.

The dyed blonde hair was long gone. It was now it's original dark brown but she still wore it shoulder length, down to the middle of her shoulder blades. And why shouldn't she? It was thick and full-bodied, kind of voluptuous, like the rest of her. I realized that I didn't just love my mom, or simply desire her, I adored her. I ran up behind her and hugged her from behind.

"You go sit down and I'll bring it in to you," I whispered in her ear.

Mom held my wrists, pressing them in to the top of her chest, above her breasts, in answer to my hug. After she left, I poured a mug of tea for each of us and put them in the microwave for thirty seconds. When I set them down on the end table beside Mom, she asked me how long the tea had been steeping.

"I poured it just before you came in," I lied. I didn't want to wait for another kettle to boil. I was eager to sit beside Mom and hear more about her evening. You believe that, don't you?

"Fibber," Mom accused. I blushed and she smiled. "Are these for me?" she asked, delighted, seeming to discover the European biscuits at that moment. Now who was fibbing?

"I don't know. They're for a special lady. Are you a special lady?" I flirted.

"I hope so."

I sat beside Mom.

"Oh no, honey," Mom said. Disappointment crashed through my head and began swirling down through my neck into my body as if traveling through a fast-action drain. "Your father's light is still on." Mom nodded toward the top of the stairs. I turned around and confirmed that there was indeed light spilling into the upstairs hallway. My heart sank. I slumped into the middle of the couch. Mom reached her hand out and patted mine.

"Maybe you could sneak up and turn it off?"

I was elated. I jumped up and quickly moved to the bottom of the stairs.

"Quietly," Mom urged. "And shut the door," she whispered.

I crept up to Dad's bedroom door as quiet as a mouse, pulled the switch down so slowly it didn't even click, waited for thirty seconds to make sure the sudden darkness hadn't bothered him, then started to pull the door closed without even disturbing the air. Halfway closed, I changed my mind and left it ajar. Quickly, but with silent feet, I descended the stairs to join my mother who was waiting for me with an amused smile surrounding her chewing mouth, mug of tea in one hand and biscuit in the other. I sat down beside her and this time there was no complaint. I was about to lean across her to pick up my own mug when she spoke.

"Before you do that, can you loosen my blouse for me? It's so warm in here and my hands are full."

I loved her smile and the dual explanation. The tea was forgotten as my hands sought the buttons on Mom's blouse. I had to dig between her breasts to find them because the first two were already undone. I quickly relieved the rest of their job.

"There's one more," Mom said. "but you'll have to pull the blouse out of my skirt to get at it."

I tugged the blouse up and relieved the last button of its duty. The blouse now rested on Mom's breasts, rising and falling with each breath, only it's grip on each swell keeping it together.

"I think it would be fair if I stood in for Lynn until she gets home, even though I fulfilled my promise to you. That is, if you promise to leave her alone forever. Do you?" Mom turned to regard me with a steady, serious look.

"Of course, Mom. I already said I would."

"Good boy," her beautiful smile reappeared.

"I'm not a boy, Mom."

"No, you're certainly not." She glanced at my lap and that triggered a flurry of sensations down there.

Mom made a face that effectively said, 'Well?' and that prompted me to move. I grasped the blouse and gently peeled it away from her chest, revealing the sexy black half-bra. Mom reached up to dim the light on the end table while I sought a way to open the bra. After a minute, I simply pushed the cups down, freeing her breasts in a bouncy release. Her nipples were already ripe and ready.

"I want to suck them," I gasped.

Far from resisting, Mom arched her back and my mouth accepted the nipple on Mom's left tit that she was pushing up. I flicked my tongue rapidly all around it for a full minute to stimulate it before sucking it in hard, jolting a satisfying hiss from Mom. I fondled her other breast and pinched and tugged its nipple while I sucked on the left. Mom's fingers pushed through my hair and her hand steered my head to her other tit.

"Do them both," she panted.

I dropped my hand and slid it back toward her knees, then quietly tried to slip it up her skirt unnoticed.

Mom kissed my temple and whispered, "I hope you don't have a pencil."

I shook my head, laughing with her nipple pinched between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Mom released a quiet moan and I pushed my hand deep into her skirt as her thighs parted before my probing fingers. How I had dearly wanted to exchange places with that pencil and now she was letting me without any fuss. I had meant to tease her inner thighs, to scratch and stroke that oh so tender skin just below her pussy in the hopes of gaining access higher but its proximity made me too eager and I thrust my hand right onto Mom's panties, fingers on her mound and thumb stretching underneath.

"No Ty. Not there."

"Please Mom," I begged, knowing it was the wrong thing to do.

"No. That's off limits."

Mom wasn't pushing my hand away but her order was firm.

"Just for one kiss," I bargained.

Mom relented. "Ok, one kiss, but just one."

"A long one," I husked, bringing my lips close to hers.

Mom didn't answer but her eyes acknowledged my request. I kissed her for as long as I could. I mastered her lips, hoping that she would want to kiss me again if it was the best one she'd ever had and all the while I massaged her mound with my fingers and rubbed her groove with my thumb. Mom was hesitant at first but then responded better than I had hoped, even pushing her pussy around to complement the movements of my feverish hand. I knew she loved what I was doing, knew she wanted more of it, but I also sensed that she would stop me as soon as the kiss ended. Mom was milking the kiss too, getting all she could while it lasted, and then she would deny me and herself too.

The kiss ended. We panted together, lips an inch apart, my fingers still on her panties and my thumb still embedded in her damp groove, now worked in between her lower lips, but unmoving, as if the decision was still pending.

"That's it," Mom panted. "Take your hand out of my skirt." Mom tousled my hair to make her command seem less harsh, as if she was telling her little boy he couldn't play with his favorite toy because he had to go for a nap.

"Come on now, leave Mommy's pussy alone."

"I left the door open," I hissed.

"What?" Mom's fingers went rigid in my hair.

"I said, I left Dad's door open." I lifted my thumb away from Mom's groove.

"What?" Mom's body went rigid. "You mean, you forgot to close it?"

"No. " I tapped Mom's groove with my thumb, lightly, just once. She didn't react.

"No? Didn't you hear me? I told you to close the door."

"I know. I left it open on purpose." I tapped Mom's groove twice.

"But he might have heard us if he woke up," Mom said.

"I know," I agreed, tapping Mom's damp groove three times, feeling pleased when she twitched on the last tap.

"And we wouldn't hear the door open if he got up." Her ragged breath sent the same signal as the twitch.

"I know," I whispered, landing my thumb firmly in her groove and giving it a long rub up and down.

Mom moaned softly. "Why did you do that?" Her pelvis tilted up, pushing herself against my rubbing thumb.

I lowered my mouth onto Mom's and kissed her. Seconds later, my thumb slid to the side of her panties and deftly slipped inside, seeking and finding her wet pussy, diving between her lips and pushing into her inner hole, her cunt. The long muffled groan Mom emitted was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. Her hips lunged up, impaling my whole thumb. I twisted my hand around so my fingers stretched down inside her panties toward her ass and tickled the inner bottom of her cheeks. Mom's arms circled my neck and squeezed me hard. I started pushing my thumb in and out, finger fucking, no, thumb fucking my mother with firm, definite force. She loved it, bucking her hips to meet every thrust. The tip of my longest finger found Mom's little rosebud and tapped it on each forward thrust, dipped inside when I felt it wink, and finally, lodged inside when I bent my finger at the first knuckle. I had learned a few things from watching hours of Internet porn. In fact, I was experienced far beyond my own reality.

The second kiss ended, then the third, and the fourth. Only then did Mom begin to say no.

"Tyson, I can't," she gasped.

"You can," I panted.

"No baby, we can't."

"We can. Cover your mouth."

I ducked my head under Mom's skirt and used my free hand to tug her panties down far enough to get my mouth on her mound. I found her slit and followed it up, searching for her clit, teasing it with my tongue and sucking it as my fingers jammed her two holes. Mom's cries became muffled and I knew she had done as she was told. Now I would make her come, harder than she had for years, maybe even better than she ever had. I set to it with a fervor previously unknown in anything I did. Mom's raised, shaking thighs and her hands on my head, one in my hair and the other pulling on my neck, informed me that I had given it a good go if nothing else.

After Mom had gasped her last gasp and twitched her last twitch, we cuddled together. I kept planting little kisses on her face, her nose, cheeks, eyes, and neck. Wherever I could.

"That was unbelievable," she said. "I don't think I've come so hard since..."

"Since...?" I echoed.

"Ever," Mom said. The sincerity in her tone made me feel more manly than winning any game, lifting any weight, or scoring any goal.

"Really?" I said, wanting to hear it again.

Mom looked at me, held my face in her hand and said, "Really."

I believed her.

"What were you doing back there?" she asked.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, but..."

"But what?"

"It's dirty."

"What does it matter if you liked it?"

"Nothing, I guess."

"And you liked it?"

"Yes. I said I did."

Mom scrutinized my face, I guess to figure out why I was persisting with this line of questioning. I did my best to reflect the look she had given me that had started everything rolling tonight: 'Well?'

"Oh," Mom sighed. "I see. I guess it is your turn."

I pulled away and scooted back to the far end of the couch, pushing my pajamas down as I went. Mom turned to follow me, crawling along the couch until she hovered over my hard, wavering cock. One hand circled its root and the other grasped my shaft but I pulled them both away. Mom glanced at me, unsure of what I wanted, then looked up the stairs and into the dark hallway above. I reached out to grasp her head, turned it back toward my cock, and pushed it lower. I loved the sight of Mom opening her wide, journalist mouth , almost as much as I loved watching my cock disappear within it.

Halfway down, I stopped and held Mom's head still. She tried to push lower but I held her head rigid. She tried to pull up but I stopped that too. I held her firmly until she quit trying to move. This was going to be my show and I wanted her to know it. We stayed still for a long moment, then I slowly thrust my hips up until my cock was three quarters embedded in Mom's mouth. I withdrew and slowly slid back into her mouth. Then again, and again, and again. I wasn't going to let Mom blow me. I had paid my dues and now I was going to fuck her face.

On each stroke, I pulled almost all the way out and then pushed almost all the way back in, each time nudging the back of her mouth, pressing on the gateway to her throat. Soon, Mom was drooling copious amounts of saliva all over my cock. My stomach and balls were completely drenched and a squishy, squelching sound filled the living room. I was moving faster now and moaning, it felt so good. I couldn't believe she was letting me do this.

Mom suddenly put her hands on my hips and held me down, putting her full weight into it. Catching me off guard like that, she managed to stop me in my tracks. I was about to thrust harder, to overcome her resistance, when she abruptly hunched her hips up. Oh, she's changing the angle of her neck so I can get into her mouth easier. I relaxed, waiting for her to get settled, but Mom's mouth suddenly descended. No, I want to be in control. I tried to stop her head but she already had my cock in to the back of her mouth, bumping against her throat.

Mom didn't pull her head away. Instead, she twisted it slowly around, grinding my cock gently into the back of her mouth. Then, it happened. Mom's throat opened and sucked my tip inside, then more, and more, the full head... she swallowed and I plunged inside until my root smacked against Mom's lips. She was deepthroating me!

Mom's head rose up, up, completely off my cock... tongue swirling around my head, then back on... sliding down, down to the back of her mouth, then teasing me at the doorway and finally that oh so delicious swallow and then, nirvana, I was in her throat again.

Working back up. Mom did it over and over. I lay flat on my back, arching up, trying to get in further, taking all she would give, and more if I could get it. But she was in control. Thank God, she was in control. Nothing could feel better than this, nothing, not ever. Well, until now, as I felt the thrill of my hot cum gushing into Mom's throat, the sensation of her neck vibrating around my cock, swallowing everything I had. Buckets, it felt like I was pouring buckets down Mom's throat. I had never come so much in my life.

Afterwards, with Mom sprawled on top of me, kissing my face, my nose, cheeks, eyes and neck, she whispered, "Did you like that, the way your Mommy sucked you?"

"Yes," I gasped. "It was the best ever, the best I'll ever get." I said it with conviction and I could see in her eyes that she believed me.

"I reckon so," Mom laughed. "You weren't exactly what I'd call dusty."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was Friday. The last day before Lynn came home with her friend Tessa. I guess I had gotten more than I had ever hoped for but I am a man and I now wanted more. But hey, another finger and deepthroat was fine by me if I could get Mom to oblige.

Breakfast was deadly. I couldn't wait for Dad to leave so I could get Mom to show me her tits and maybe get in a feel and suck before going to work. Once he rattled the paper as if to fold it to open the next page but looked back to read another story. I could have killed him. I had been awake since six with a huge boner. I needed to be alone with Mom. Finally, he put the damn paper down and picked his coffee up.

That's right, drain it and get the fuck out of here already.

But no. Oh no. He just took a sip and looked at Mom and she, for Christ's sake, started a new, full-fledged conversation! Couldn't they tell I was shuffling my feet for a reason? Mom knew. She had frowned at me more than once. I know she knew. She was torturing me. Ten to nine. I had to go.

Oh, now he's leaving, when it's too late to do anything. Look at him. Oh yeah, I've got to go to work. Ya think? Well, I have to be out of here too. I half-stomped to the door and bent down to put on my shoes as Dad opened the door and told Mom to have a nice day.

"You too, son." Dad left, leaving the door open for me.

Too late. You've already ruined it. I tied my shoes and got up, starting out the door without saying goodbye to Mom. I was angry at her too for starting up that last conversation with Dad.

"Ty? Come say goodbye."

"I'm late Mom. I've got to go," I barked.

"You have time to give your mother a kiss," she called.

"Ok but hurry." I actually stood in the doorway tapping my feet. She didn't come.

"Mom, come on. I've got to go."

"Come in here. My hands are full," she called.

I muttered under my breath, "Jesus H. Christ," and stomped into the kitchen in my boots. To hell with her floors.

I rounded the counter by the doorway and stopped dead in my tracks. Mom was standing in the middle of the kitchen, blouse undone and bare tits resting in the cupped palms of her upturned hands.

"They want a kiss goodbye because it's the last day you can," she cooed.

I put my lunch on the counter and took the two steps to reach those beautiful girls.

"I'm going to be really late," I said, interrupting myself with a mouthful of morning tit.

"It won't matter. Your boss won't miss you." Mom's hands were already rotating my head around her nipple.

I pulled off her tit. "Yeah right! He'll be pissed. He really reamed me out for being late yesterday." I sucked Mom's other nipple into my mouth. It looked so forlorn on its own.

"Well, he won't miss you today," Mom said.

Iignored her and kept sucking her tits, moving from one to the other. I was already in shit so I may as well get something out of it.

"I could call him and tell him you need to stay home to look after your mother today."

I stood up and put my arms around Mom. I wanted to kiss her properly before I left. "Sure Mom, like that would work." I lowered my mouth to hers but she spoke as I tried to cover her lips with mine.

"It seemed to," she said.

I pulled back and stared at Mom. "It seemed to?" I repeated.

"Yes, it seemed to," she reiterated.

"What seemed to?"

"Well, I thought since this will be the last time we can ever do... anything, that you'd like to stay home and spend the day with me. So I called Mr. Thompson earlier this morning and told him I really needed you to stay home and take care of me, so to speak."

"You're kidding?"

"I kid you not," Mom said, a huge smile on her face. "And remember, I will not let you 'kid' me." She laughed out loud at her own joke.

"You mean, he was okay with that, and I get to stay home to... to, I mean..."

"Yes. You can stay home to... do... whatever, within reason." I loved the series of expressions that played over Mom's face as she struggled to get that sentence out.

"Mom, that's fantastic. I can't believe it. I don't know what to say."

"Well, I bet you can think of something to do," she laughed. "But not here. Pick me up and take me upstairs."

I did as I was told. I picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. She wasn't a big woman but I was breathing heavily when I put her down on her feet beside the bed.

"You can watch me undress if you like," she said in a husky, low voice that set a new mood for the room.

"I like," I said.

I sat on the edge of Mom's bed while she slowly removed her clothes. She didn't make it look like a striptease, she simply removed her clothes as I imagined she normally would, only more slowly. All too soon, she was completely nakedk and I immediately noted a change: Mom had shaved her pussy. My half-bent cock stiffened into a full-on boner and I grimaced as it straightened in my jeans.

"Something wrong, Ty?" Mom laughed.

"No," I replied, standing up and pulling on my jeans to relieve the pressure on my dick.

Mom crawled up on the bed and sprawled across it on top of the covers. She spread her legs and lifted her tummy to tuck her hand underneath. A second later, her fingers appeared reaching up along her bald pussy lips, the longest one stretching up to nudge between her cheeks. Mom lifted her ass up from the bed.

"Why don't you get undressed and do that dirty thing you did the other night?"

I didn't have to be told twice. I shed my rags in record time and was beside her on the bed in a flash. I cradled Mom's ass in my palms and pushed my thumbs between her cheeks but she turned onto her side.

"Kiss me for a while first."

We kissed for more than a while. Mom let me play with her buns and fondle her tits but as soon as I tried to get my fingers into her, in front or in back, she shoved my hands away. She wasn't shy about fondling my balls, though, or stroking my cockk but I certainly wasn't going to push her away. Our bodies pushed and pulled, exercising the old rub and grind, until we were panting heavily from the strain and stimulation. My tongue was even sore, I had kissed Mom for so long.

Mom twisted around and reached in the little drawer of the bedside table behind her. She handed me a tube and said, "I suppose you know what to do with this." Then, she lifted one knee up, propped it up high with her foot braced on the inside of her other knee, and directed my head down to her wide open pussy. As soon as I was level, her fingers tightened in my hair and pulled my face onto her moist pubes.

"Ahhhh, yeah. Lick me, Ty. Lick Mommy."

All I had to do was hold my head still and move my tongue. Mom's hips and her guiding hands did the rest leaving mine free to handle the lube. I reached between Mom's legs, pushed my oily fingers between her cheeks, and found her little hole on the first try. I pressed the goo against that already excited little asterisk and was surprised when my finger easily slipped inside to the first knuckle.

"Fuck, that feels good," Mom moaned. "I never imagined it would feel so fantastic."

I pulled my finger out to replenish the lube and Mom moaned her displeasure but when I re-inserted my finger, this time sinking deeper, her hips thrust hard onto my face, then just as vehemently lurched back on my finger, plunging it deep into her ass.

"Oh, god, Ty. Oh, god. It's so dirty. Make me be dirty," Mom groaned.

I pulled out, doused my fingers liberally, and plunged my finger back into Mom's ass. I finger fucked her ass, plunging deep, twisting my finger around, pulling out and pushing in. I refused to go fast though she urged me to with her moans and bucking hips. It seemed as if she couldn't decide what she liked better, my tongue or my finger, but when I inserted a second finger in her ass and pushed the base of my hand firmly against her pucker, the decision was made. Mom tried to impale herself on my hand.

I fingered Mom's ass until she came on my face, literally squirting her juice all over me. I didn't know a woman could flood like that or make such noises. Her wails permeated the house. I had never heard Mom make sounds like that. Come to think of it, I don't think I'd heard my parents having sex for years. It made me proud to think that I had made my mother come so hard. For the last five minutes, she had barely sounded human, resembling a grunting mass of flesh jerking out of control between my hand and my mouth than a grown woman.

When she was done, gasping and sobbing on the bed, I turned her flat on her stomach, pried her cheeks apart, and filled her ass with lube. In her weakened state, I started to really work on her ass with three fingers and, when she could stand to be touched again, inserted two fingers from my other hand in her pussy. I didn't rush, I wasn't harsh, but I was relentless.

When Mom's ass lifted off the bed to reach for my retreating fingers, I knew she was almost ready. I waited until her buns were regularly following my fingers, pulling them back a little farther than necessary to tease her up, then hooked my fingers in her hole and lifted her up onto her knees. Quickly, I got behind her, lined my cock up and exchanged it for my fingers. My full helmet was inside Mom's butt before she realized what had happened.

"No, Ty. No, you can't," she groaned.

"I can, Mother. I'm already inside you."

"Please don't. I can't let you fuck me."

"I'm not," I cried, sinking my full length into Mom's slippery ass. "I'm just in your butt."

"No, no," Mom wailed.

"It's not fucking if I'm not in your pussy," I rasped.

I managed half a dozen pumps in silence.

"It's not?"

"No," I gasped. She felt incredible. "I'm just making you play dirty," I said, trying to capitalize on the word Mom seemed to get off on.

"You're making me be dirty?" she husked.

"Yeah," I confirmed, then added for good measure, "So I don't have to make Lynn do it."

Mom groaned loudly. I humped her butt harder, resting my hands on her back to steady myself, straddled precariously above her. Mom's neck bent against the mattress with our to-and-fro movements. She bore me in silence for awhile and then began to emit little grunts with every thrust in her butt. I changed my routine, pumping fast for a few strokes, then slowly, then hard one-timers held plugged all the way in for a few seconds before withdrawing to jam it in again. Mom seemed to really like that.

Tiring of squatting over her ass, I pushed Mom flat on the mattress and nudged her legs together with my heels. Straddling her thighs, I began a regular fucking rhythm. Despite what I said and what she believed, I was fucking her for sure, fucking her in the ass. I gripped her shoulders and reverted to the slam and grind. I really liked the feel of that and Mom seemed to like it too despite how rough it seemed. In less than a minute, we were both grunting like animals. When I came, I released a primeval wail that I couldn't believe came from my own throat and collapsed on Mom's back, shuddering like a man who had just been pulled from the freezing ocean.

You won't believe what we spent most of the day doing. Baking. That's right, baking. Mom wanted me to help her bake a whole pile of stuff for Lynn and her friend Tessa. I told her they would hardly be around but she insisted. After what she had done for me that morning, I would have filled a Wal-Mart with bread baked in a toaster oven if that's what she wanted.

As the day wore on I started getting frantic that I wouldn't be able to have another crack at Mom. I mean, I was in my undershorts and Mom was wearing an apron and nothing else. It was the kind with a bib in front but that loose bit covering her tits just made them sexier. I was hard the whole time we were in the kitchen except for the first twenty minutes when I felt like my worn out cock would never get hard again. When the final tray was pulled out of the oven and set on the stove to cool, my cock was ready to break.

"I guess I better take care of you one last time before your father gets home," Mom said.

I grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Really?"

As Mom led me upstairs, I made a suggestion, "We could do something tomorrow morning too, while Dad's picking Lynn up from the airport."

"No, we'll all go to the airport together to welcome your sister home. This is the last time, Tyson. That's my last word on it and I expect you to keep your promise about Lynn."

"I will Mother," I sulked.

She wouldn't get on her tummy or let me touch her ass.

"I'm a little sore there. I don't know if I'll be able to sit down for a week," she laughed. "Don't worry, I'll fix you up. I think you'll like what I've got in mind."

Mom retrieved a vibrator from the same drawer she had got the lube from. No wonder she had lube. The vibrator told me bucket loads about Mom and Dad's sex life, probably nonexistent and the likely reason she was so tight for a woman her age. Mom got on the bed, lying sideways, and pulled her knees, held together, part way up. She inserted the vibrator between her legs and settled in for a nice rub-a-dub after adjusting her head for comfort on the pillow which she had puffed up. I watched her, perplexed, wondering why I was supposed to like this so much. I could spoon her, but she said her ass was sore, so that wasn't it. What the hell? I was supposed to just watch her get off?

Mom looked amused. She kept toying with her pubes, rubbing the vibrator all over the outside of her pussy. Finally, she patted the bed in front of her face. I guess I really was supposed to just sit and watch her. I crawled over and kneeled in front of her. I put my hand on her knee and ran my fingers up the side of her leg to her hip, caressing her outer thigh, then moved to take control of the vibrator. Mom shook her head so I sat back and watched, confused and more than a little bit pissed.

After a while, Mom reached out with her free hand, grasped my cock, and slowly stroked it. This went on for quite some time. I was getting really horny but this slow stroking wasn't going to make me come, not for a while, anyway. I looked longingly at Mom's pretty face, remembering how great it looked to see my cock disappearing into her wide mouth. I wished I could do that again. I wished... well, why not? I replaced Mom's hand with my own and leaned forward, pushing my cock down towards her face.

"You're the most patient man I think I've ever met," Mom said. "Except for your father. I offered him this once, years ago, but he didn't even catch on."

No way I was going to admit that I hadn't got it until just now. Being a very patient man sounded way better. I tried to fake her out.

"Yeah," I panted, "but my patience goes only so far," I grunted.

I pushed my cock between Mom's lips and shoved it into her mouth. She moaned sexily around my meat. I was slow and gentle for a few strokes but then, remembering how much Mom seemed to like it when I slammed my cock in her ass, I cupped my hand under her jaw and held her head still while I pumped more forcibly into her mouth. I watched carefully for signs of distress but the only change I could see was Mom inserting the vibrator inside her pussy so I kept fucking her face. I did take extra care when I pushed deep, trying to gain entry through the gate to her throat at the back of her mouth. Mom let go of her vibrator for a moment and helped me through.

"Yeah, take it deep, baby. Really deep," I husked, forgetting she was my mother. I had never had any girl — well, either of the two I'd actually had sex with — do this for me and I wanted it badly. Jeez, I wished Mom would consider doing just this for me from now on.

Fuck, the way she pulled me inside with that little swallow. Unbelievable. I couldn't believe I didn't come right away. I started moving my cock, afraid to pull back too far so I didn't have to negotiate the entrance to her throat again. Of course, I didn't control myself very well but discovered that I could easily move in and out with Mom controlling that part. I held Mom's head with one hand and her throat and jaw with the other and concentrated on pumping her face. Fuck, this was so fucking fantastic.

The vibrator had become louder. It must be variable speed, like a drill, and Mom must have turned it up. Her hips were making fucking movements and she was moaning constantly around my meat. She must be close. Well, so was I. I tried to time myself to where I thought she was but soon gave up. Mom suddenly started bucking her hips faster, more jerkily, and I thought she was going to come first but then she did something with her throat and it triggered a similar uncontrolled reaction in me. For the second time that day, we came loudly together.

I pulled my cock out of Mom's mouth and rubbed it all over her face. Why? Who knows, but it sure felt good and what felt even better was seeing her smile as I did it and putting it back into her mouth to suck me. If that was part of coming, then I came for several more minutes.

Mom and I showered together and enjoyed soaping each other off. It was a real special time. Both sated, we fondled and caressed each other without any intention of reinitiating sex. I had only one regret: Mom hadn't let me actually fuck her and, of course, all of this was now over. Downstairs, when we heard Dad pull into the driveway, Mom let me kiss her hard one last time.

When we pulled apart, she said, "Maybe you can still kiss me like that once in a while."

The door opened. Dad was home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There were no games that night. The afternoon had truly been our farewell.

The next day, we all went out to pick up Lynn and Tessa in Dad's car. It was cramped but that was the way Mom wanted it. She sat in the back, between Lynn and Tessa, who was even sexier in person. It was endearing to see how happy Mom was to see Lynn and I felt guilty playing on her fears and her instinct to protect her daughter just so I could use her body. As I watched them together, I realized how much I loved them both, especially Mom, and vowed to make it up to her.

I didn't have the heart to admit to her that Lynn had never meant to show me her tits. Not on purpose, anyway. Sure, I had tried to get her to flash me before but she just brushed that off as banter between sister and brother. If she wanted something from me, she wasn't shy about posturing herself to flaunt her assets, tits or ass, but she never offered to actually show me anything, let alone do something overtly sexual.

Nope. That day, I had been fleeing Mom because I knew she wanted me to cut the grass and I had run into Lynn's room thinking she was out and Mom wouldn't look for me there. I caught her right in the middle of changing, well, removing her bra, because she was going out with Chad and she thought she could sneak out of the house without Mom seeing her. Right there in front of me were the tits I had dreamed of seeing for years. They were stunning, absolutely gorgeous.

Lynn glared at me. "Don't you dare say anything to Mom," thinking the most important thing was hiding her bralessness from Mom rather than her tits from me.

"I won't," I stammered as Lynn negotiated her hands through her sleeves, not doing anything to hide her perfect tits. I took the casual way she put her blouse back on as payment for my silence and it would have been well paid too if Mom hadn't burst through the door at that moment. As it turned out, I was eventually paid far more than I could ever have imagined, for doing... nothing.

I spent the next week trying to be as nice as possible to Mom and Lynn and her friend Tessa. Tessa was a knockout: Tall and lithe with short, very blond hair. She was perky and cute and sexy, and she liked me. After Lynn returned to college, she called to say how much Tessa talked about me. Your brother is so nice, and so good looking.. Lynn made a face and laughed at the latter part of that sentence but wondered why I had been so nice to her when she was home. I'm a changed man, I had responded, and I was in ways she could never know.

Oh, you were wondering if Mom kept her word about the games being over?

Yes, she did.

For just over a week.

We were kissing for the first time since Lynn had come home. I had been kneeling on the couch and pulled her up to kiss her properly, with my hands fondling her ass outside her skirt. On about the sixth kiss, she let me run my hand under her skirt to cup her panties. After the eighth, very long kiss, I turned Mom toward the back of the couch and slipped my other hand up the back of her skirt. Within minutes, I had her panties around her knees and her holes filled with fingers. Mom had opened my robe earlier and pushed my pajamas down to release my cock, taking it into her hand. As I frigged her, she jacked me slowly with one hand.

When I moved behind her, Mom looked over her shoulder at the light spilling into the hallway from her bedroom. Dad had gone upstairs almost an hour before. Surely, he was asleep by now. I pushed my cock between Mom`s legs and slid it up between her thighs under her skirt until the tip nestled between her bare cheeks, already damp with her womanly excretion.

"I can't help it," she explained in response to my discovery. "I've missed you terribly."

"I missed you too, Mom," I croaked.

"Cover my mouth if I forget myself," she whispered.

"Ok."

I rubbed my cockhead up and down between Mom's cheeks, then pushed it underneath and up so I could rub it through her pussy lips.

"Tyson, no."

Mom tried to pull away but was stopped by the back of the couch. I hunched my hips, sawing my cock back and forth and slipped the tip of my thumb into her ass.

"I just need to make it wet because we don't have any lube down here."

I wiggled my thumb to indicate where I really intended to put my cock but I rubbed it back and forth for long enough that Mom began to seriously wet my dick. Her pubes were really swollen and my helmet was digging deep into her slit causing both of us to moan softly. This was not one of my finest moments, for I told an unforgiveable lie.

"This feels so great. It was all I could do not to take Lynn up on her offer."

"What?" Mom cried.

"Shhhhhh!" I jerked my head around to look upstairs, more for effect to keep Mom quiet than a real fear that Dad could hear us.

"Lynn wants you to fuck her?"

"Yeah, but I kept my promise. It was hard to do, Mom. I don't know if I can always be so strong, especially when I'm not getting any."

I angled my cock up and gouged my tip through her slit.

"Ohhhhhh, yes, it feels so good but... well..."

"Well what," I gasped, grasping my shaft and vibrating it in Mom's slit.

"Well... would you promise to never... I mean never... give in to your sister if I..."

"If you what?"

There was no answer. The suspense was intense, waiting for Mom to finish her thought but the look on her face gave me some idea of the struggle she was going through. I kept wiggling my cockhead in her slit to press my case.

"Just promise me you'll never give in to her," Mom barked angrily.

I stopped wiggling my dick. Had I gone too far? She was going to stop, to change her mind about what I hoped she was going to say, I just knew it. I tried desperately to recover lost ground.

"I promise, Mom. I swear. I'll never touch Lynn, ever!" I stated, strongly emphasizing the last word.

"Ok, then," was the quiet response.

Mom bent over the back of the couch and pushed back against me, sending my cockhead skidding beyond her slit. She reached under her skirt and I felt her grasp the end of my cock, push it back and guide it back into her slit. Mom paused with my tip being warmed in her wetness, then suddenly shoved her hips back, forcing my helmet inside her pussy. I grunted in surprise and ecstasy. What a wonderful feeling, so much better than her ass, like being dipped in hot liquid and squeezed by slippery, pulpy muscles. I shoved in deeper, seeking more of this fantastic pleasure, and was rewarded by the slippery grip of Mom's inner walls sliding along the length of my shaft.

"Oh my God," I cried.

"Shhhhhhh!" Mom hissed.

"It's so good. I can't believe it."

"Shhhhh, baby," she shushed me more gently. "Remember your promise."

"I promise, Mom. I promise. I won't touch her. Forever."

I was fucking Mom! I leaned on her back and slipped my hands around to grasp her tits, inside her blouse, holding her torso so it couldn't move away from my cock. I simply loved the feel of her cunt. It was unbelievably active, massaging my whole cock all the way in and all the way out. I had expected her to be loosre but she was really tight, like she hadn't been fucked for a long time.

Mom was moaning now. Her hands gripped the upper edge of the couch and she was pushing herself back onto my cock, forcing me to pull back to enjoy the longer, clinging thrusts through her sex.

"Cover my mouth," she gasped.

I put my hand over her mouth in the nick of time, squelching a loud groan. I answered her with a huge lunge into her cunt and then another, and another. I jammed my cock in hard, loving the gasping, vibrating grunt it produced in my palm. I was rocking her so hard now that my hand and her mouth became disconnected so I used my other hand to push her head into it. Slamming now, really slamming. Holy fuck, so good, so very, very good. Mom, oh Mom! I was heaving, blasting my cum inside her, jerking around like a spastic until I collapsed on Mom's back and we eventually fell to our sides on the couch.

Mom let me enter her a second time before she went to bed, this time face to face. I loved the feel of her legs entwined around mine, loved looking at her face, eyes closed and face strained, as I slowly ground my cock into her. I loved fucking her like this. Hell, I just loved fucking her!

I didn't work the next day. Mom made me fuck her in the ass. I mean it, she wouldn't let me do her pussy again unless I did her ass first. Mom really liked it in the ass and had masturbated for the whole week thinking about my cock in her butt. That's why she'd been so horny, why she had sat on the couch doing crosswords until Dad went to bed. She confessed to me that she had sat on the couch, doing her crosswords without any panties on under her skirt, for the entire week until last night. She had changed into her least sexy panties after supper, sensing that she was too near the edge and that momentary desire could carry her over the precipice into a sexual abyss from which she might not be able to escape.

Mom thought the panties would give her the breathing space to avoid getting carried away so far that she would actually let me fuck her but the threat of Lynn chasing me, and her fear that I couldn't resist my sister, pushed her over the edge. Deep down, I think Mom knew I would keep the promise I had already made about Lynn and she didn't really need to do anything more. I think Mom just needed an excuse to give in to a desire she couldn't deny.

Anyway, everything worked out perfectly for me. I fucked Mom for years. She blew me at least once a day and sometimes twice. She knew I loved doing her mouth and coming on her face. She acted like she didn't like it but I think that was because I seemed to get off more when she did that. If I didn't ask her, she would initiate it and always pulled my cock out to spray on her face if I didn't do it myself. Somehow, that doesn't match up with really disliking it and acting like I was 'making her' do it. In fact, Mom loved to act like I was 'making her' do things.

Sex was more difficult when Lynn was home in the summers but we managed. At first, she wouldn't do it if Lynn was in the house but one night, I swore I'd visit Lynn's room, I was so horny. That led to a really hot fuck on the old couch in the basement. After that, I was guaranteed to get a quickie if Lynn was somewhere in the house.

Dad had a heart attack and passed away a few years ago. I thought that would give me a free hand with Mom but she insisted I start living my life and made me move out. I lived with a girl for three years and almost got married but then Mom got the big C and died a few months ago. I left my girlfriend and moved back home to a house that is empty except for memories. Sometimes, I sit all night in the living room, staring at the end of the couch next to the table with the unfinished book of crosswords.

I haven't worked for months. My life is a shambles and now Lynn is forcing me to leave. She's the executor of Mom's will and is selling the house. I can't afford to buy Lynn's half but she says I can stay with her untlil the estate is settled. She even jokingly threatened to have me committed if I don't (her husband is a doctor). Lynn says being around her kids would make me feel better and reconnect me with life. I always liked her kids but they're older than my favorite age range of two to five and are both in school now. I guess I'll take Lynn up on her offer. I don't have much choice until the estate is resolved anyway. 



Crosswords Ch. 02
"Is that all you're taking?"

Lynn's face matched the tone of her voice and also the arms stretched out to her sides, an expression of incredulity.

I shrugged and looked in the trunk at the two plastic bags and a couple of taped up boxes. There were two suitcases in the backseat but those were Lynn's. "Yeah, well, like you said, I shouldn't be dwelling on the past." I slammed the trunk closed and walked around to the driver's door.

"There must be more than that, some keepsakes, or something," Lynn said.

"Nope, I gave some of my stuff to friends and threw the rest of the crap away. All Mom and Dad's stuff is still in there," I waved at the house, the only home I'd ever known.

"You're not going to stay and sort through it?" Lynn sounded understanding with barely a hint that she was pissed off.

"Nope. You want to sell the place, so sell it." I didn't try to hide the fact that I was pissed off.

"Tyson, you know it's for the best. We've been over this. "

"I know, Sis. I know I've got to get out of here, it's just that, it's just..."

Lynn stepped close and threw her arms around me, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Ty," she cried, hugging me tight and starting to cry.

"Don't, Sis. You'll get me started," I patted her back and stroked her hair.

Lynn drew back, smiled, sniffed, and bravely wiped the tears from her eyes. "Right, you're right." She took a big breath. "Ok, then."

"Look, how about I go have my last burger here and you take a look inside and see if there's anything you really want to save. If there is, I'll help you go through it."

"No, Ty. I've already been through everything. I was just surprised there wasn't more that you wanted."

"Just those two boxes. The rest is just furniture and stuff," I said.

"Okay, then. Let's go have that last burger together." Lynn started around the front of the car.

"You're not really going break down and ruin three years of work, are you?" I laughed.

"One burger isn't going to kill me," Lynn laughed back.

My sister had had a hard time shedding the weight she gained after her second child. The first hadn't been difficult. She had been careful about what she ate and exercised throughout her pregnancy but with the second, she just couldn't find the time or energy with another kid to look after. She had gained a lot more and hadn't lost it, not until recently, that is. Now, she looked great. She wasn't much heavier than she'd been in college, maybe even lighter than she was in high school. She was a pretty good-looking thirty-three year old, especially one that had two kids in school. In fact, the maturity wrought from bearing children made her even better looking, more appealingly feminine than before. Motherhood had been kind to my sister.

I got in the car. Lynn was snapping the seat belt shut. Even her breasts were better, I thought, noting how the belt separated her breasts as it crossed her chest. They were larger than before but I supposed that was to be expected after two children.

"I'll drop you at the airport after the burger," I said, "and then get going."

I backed the car out onto the road.

"I'm coming with you," Lynn said.

"You're coming with me? It will take two or three days to get there."

"I'm not in a rush."

A car honked it's horn and swerved around us. I ignored him instead of offering my normal salute.

"What about your ticket?"

"What about it?"

"Can you get a refund?"

"I'm not worried about it." Lynn said. "You better get going before you get a ticket."

"What about the kids?"

"What about them?'

"Don't you have to get back to look after them?"

"Rosita will look after them. Quit stalling and get the show on the road."

I got the car moving. I knew better than to argue with Lynn once she had made up her mind. I knew what she was doing. She was worried about me and wanted to make sure I made it to her place and didn't wander off somewhere which is what I had intended to do. What the hell. I'd take my sister for a nice relaxing drive for a few days, avoiding the interstate as much as possible, stay at her place for a week or so, and then bugger off.

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I sat reminiscing about the afternoon's drive. The TV was on and I appeared to be watching it but I wasn't. I was more aware of the sound of the shower than what the talking heads were saying. That was a great burger. I hoped there would be somewhere they could make something half decent in West Palm Beach; not great, just something more than passable. That burger had been the start of a very nice afternoon. After that, we blew out of town in my baby, a rebuilt, red with black stripe and black leather interior '68 Camaro hardtop that ran like it was brand new. Quite a few miles had gone by and we had left the interstate when Lynn rolled her window down and shook her hair out in the passing wind.

"I can't believe you still have this thing," she yelled over the wind and the roar of the engine. "It used to be such a piece of shit."

"It's been completely rebuilt, a frame-up restoration," I yelled back.

I started to itemize the work I'd put into it over the years, the time and dollars spent always a bone of contention with my girlfriend, but Lynn smiled and turned away, uninterested. I rolled my window down too and turned the music up so we could hear it. Lynn's head nodded with the beat and her hand tapped the top of the door. "Yeah," she said.

Some miles down the road, Lynn looked less the harried young mother and more the attractive young woman she was despite her conservative dress. The tension had drained from her face and her whole body seemed to be more fluid though she was just gazing out the window. Lynn kicked off her shoes and lifted her feet up to brace them on the dash on either side of the glove box. Her loose skirt skidded down her thighs and Lynn trapped it, pushing the extra material between her legs. She turned to look at me and I quickly looked back at the road.

"Do you mind?" she asked, nodding at her bare feet on my dash.

"It's cool," I answered.

Lynn turned back to the scenery and a few seconds later I did too. I had forgotten how nice Lynn's legs were. Whenever I thought of her, I always remembered her breasts, those gorgeous things I had seen so fleetingly years ago. Sometimes, I had to admit, I had pictured them when I was huffing and puffing over my ex-girlfriend and several women before that. However, I hadn't done that since the birth of Lynn's second child. She had kind of let herself go during her second pregnancy. Looking at those legs now, that was clearly well behind her and I knew I would be dreaming about her tonight.

It wasn't just because Lynn had shed weight. Lynn had a nice body, again, true, but the problem really lay in how much she looked like Mom when she was in her thirties, a time when my voice changed, I shaved for the first time and, yes, I almost wore out my cock masturbating. I thought that was a teenage thing then but I still did it, a lot.

Despite my objections, Lynn refused to stay in a cheap motel. She booked us in as Mr. and Mrs. Thompson.

"It's easier," she explained as we rode the elevator up to our room.

The room was large and expensively decorated. The two king-sized beds were each fronted with flat screen TVs. I went straight to the minibar but Lynn picked up the phone and asked, "What do you want? I'm having wine."

I said that I'd go for that too. What the hell, there was no reason for me to be an impolite guest.

"For the tip," Lynn said, handing me a ten. "I'm going to freshen up."

"I can afford a tip," I said, refusing to take it.

"Suit yourself," she said, dropping the ten on the bed and brushing past me to the bathroom.

After she closed the door, I changed my mind. When the guy arrived, I directed him to put the wine and glasses on the table between the beds and gave him a five. I grabbed a beer from the minibar, kicked off my shoes, and settled in to watch some TV.

Lynn was in the bathroom for quite a while. When she finally emerged, she had one towel wrapped around her body and another piled on her head covering her hair.

"What are you watching?" she asked, sitting on the edge of her bed nearest mine.

"Football," I answered, as if it wasn't obvious.

Lynn swung her legs up on the bed and settled back into the pillows. It wasn't long before I lost my focus on the game. The distraction was Lynn smoothing lotion down her lower legs and onto her feet, and then touching up the polish on her nails with a little brush. She asked questions about the game like she used to do, only now I didn't think she was doing it to be annoying. I think she really wanted to talk to me.

"Oh shit," Lynn suddenly exclaimed. "We forgot about the wine."

I nodded and waved my beer bottle at the wine.

"You're having beer? I can't drink a whole bottle of wine by myself," she complained.

"No problem, " I said, tipping up my bottle and finishing it.

I poured us both a glass and Lynn got me talking about the old days during half-time. I muted the TV and didn't notice when the game started up again. Lynn leaned across several times to clink glasses which rewarded me with a view of the upper part of the breasts I used to fantasize about, except now they were bigger, like Mom's. I noticed by the third quarter that I had forgotten about the game but by then I didn't care. Lynn mostly looked straight ahead as she talked, which allowed me to admire her legs and to really take in how much she looked like Mom. After a while, I just enjoyed listening to her voice.

As I refilled our glasses, Lynn got up and told me to close my eyes, which I did. I heard the towels falling to the floor but kept my eyes closed tight. After a lot of rustling, Lynn told me I could open my eyes again. I handed her a glass of wine and she thanked me for being a gentleman.

"I'm not a kid anymore," I responded, thinking about that day I had burst in to find her topless.

"No, I guess not," Lynn replied wistfully.

We drank that glass more quickly than the first but with fewer clinks which was too bad because it was awkward for Lynn to keep the bed covers pressed to her chest as she leaned across and there was always the chance of an accident. Well, I suppose that wouldn't have been a good thing, really. It probably would have just embarrassed us both. I knew it would embarrass me. Still, I couldn't stop thinking that Lynn was naked lying in the bed next to mine.

While I poured the third and final glass, Lynn pulled her knees up under the cover and leaned forward, ruffling her hair. Positioned the way I was, I could see her entire naked back and the side of her left breast jiggling as she shook out her hair. Lynn's narrow waist dipped in under her breast and then flared out to her hips and buttocks. I spilled the wine, overflowing her glass.

"Hey, keep your eye on the job, buddy," Lynn laughingly admonished me.

I was wrong. I wasn't embarrassed. The casual way my sister handled catching me cruising her body made it all part of brother-sister banter, like in the old days. I felt quite relaxed as I handed her the glass and then poured my own. We took up our conversation where we left off and talked long after the wine was gone.

Eventually, we decided to hit the sack and turned off the lights. We hadn't closed the curtains so the room was dimly lit by the ambient lights of the city below. I went to the bathroom to wash up and do my teeth. Lynn was lying with her covers pulled up to her neck facing my bed. I thought she would turn around when I started getting undressed but she didn't. I stripped down to my underwear and got into bed. Her eyes were closed but I was sure I had seen a glint there while I was undressing.

During the night, Lynn got up and went to the bathroom. I watched her shadowy form go but couldn't make out any details in the semi-darkness. After the toilet flushed, I waited with slitted eyes for her return. The gods shone on me that night as Lynn forgot to turn out the bathroom light. Her heavy breasts swayed beautifully in the gloom and I could make out a dark triangle that must have been her pubic hair.

"Damn," she whispered, turning around to get the light.

Ah, what a lovely derriere. My brother-in-law was a lucky man.

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Dale was a heart surgeon and fourteen years Lynn's senior. This was his second marriage and second set of kids. He had missed the early years of his first set and, like many successful men his age, succumbed to the attraction of a younger woman and eagerly embraced her desire for a family, one that, this time, would be enjoyed. But the attraction often waned and Dale seemed to be following the path that had led to his first divorce — work was his primary focus.

I was surprised that Lynn hadn't talked about her husband and kids. I hadn't noticed it the night before but thought about it the next day while Lynn drove. Yes, I let my sister, the one whose driving I had always criticized, drive my baby. She loved it and I had to say, she looked beautiful driving my classic Camaro. They could have sold a lot of these using her in a commercial.

Somehow, Lynn didn't look anything like the efficient mother that had arrived ten days ago to settle up the house. She seemed free as a bird as we sped down the county roads. She was gorgeous with her hair lifting from the open window and her loose dress billowing from the same wind. She had long since stopped trying to smooth it back up to her knees and let her long legs stay bare. Yep, I thought, my sister was definitely Camaro material.

"Be good," Lynn laughed, looking over and catching my eyes running over her legs.

I was a bit amazed by how unruffled she was by my attention to her physical attributes and how little it seemed to bother me at getting caught. In fact, it seemed almost like a game. Lynn caught me several more times that day and I think she enjoyed it. She almost glowed after catching me and seemed to bask in my admiration. I think my attention was good for her, as was the glances she attracted when we stopped to eat for lunch and dinner. There was something about Lynn that made her more fun than her usual self and I think she was aware of it, and liked it, That, and the attention she garnered, probably took her back to the old days, before kids.

We shared a bottle of wine at dinner before going upstairs to our room. Lynn ordered a bottle before going in for a shower and I settled on one of the beds, queen's this time and just one TV, after it arrived to browse through the movie offerings. Lynn exited the bathroom in the same garb, a towel around her body and one covering her hair. When I asked which of several chick flicks she wanted, she took the remote from me, found a football game, and tossed it back to me. I shrugged, and picked up one of the glasses. Lynn ignored hers and set about getting ready to paint her toenails.

"What color do you like, Ty?" Lynn asked, wiggling her toes at me and holding up two bottles of nail polish.

"That one," I said, pointing to the one on the left.

"You don't like the pink one?" she seemed disappointed.

I looked back. "That one, then," I said, pointing to the other one.

Lynn smiled and started painting her toes. She held them out and wiggled them once in a while, waiting for me to acknowledge their presence and to nod approvingly, which I did. I pretended it was an annoyance but, truth be told, I enjoyed it and I think Lynn knew it. I liked the way she held her leg out, the way her pretty foot curled, and the way her toes wiggled for attention. I looked over to monitor her progress a few times between the toe-wiggling and admired the muscles in Lynn's calves and the tender underside of her left flank that was, as far as I could see, completely devoid of cellulite. If this woman wasn't my sister, I would be all over her in a flash.

Lynn finished her toes and flaunted them in front of me but I pretended to me more interested in the game. She got up from her bed and circled around to the end of mine, then sat on it blocking the TV.

"Look, Ty. Aren't they pretty?" she flexed her toes, laughing because she knew how annoying she was being.

I held the remote out so it could see the TV around her and shut it off.

"Ok, let's see them," I said, sounding exasperated.

Actually, I was kind of excited. The way Lynn was sitting, I could see the back of both thighs all the way to her... panties. Lynn was wearing panties under the towel. I was sure she had been naked the night before. If fact, I was positive. When she had leaned forward to ruffle her hair, I had seen all the way down her back and there had been no sign of panties then. Still, this was great. I could see Lynn's plain white panties stretched tightly over her sex as I pretended to examine her toenails.

"Hmmmm," I mused. "I'm not sure I like this color after all. It's not really pink, is it?"

Lynn leaned forward to look herself, opening her legs wider and causing the towel to fall toward her hips. I dipped my head to get around hers which was now partially blocking my view. God almighty, the panties were stretched so tight now I could clearly see the groove between her lower lips. I had never before been treated to such an intimate display of my sister's charms.

Lynn's head snapped up.

"Well, it is pink and I like it," she said.

Lynn shuffled over beside me, fluffed a couple of pillows up and leaned back against them.

"Pass me the remote and pour me a wine, little brother," she instructed. "It's chick flick time."

We drank wine and watched a movie which Lynn soon tired of. We ended up talking about anything and everything as we finished the bottle. After the second glass was gone, Lynn got up to go to the bathroom. I was still refilling our glasses when she returned. The towels were both gone and she was wearing bra and panties and nothing else. She settled in as if nothing had changed but thankfully browsed for another movie so I didn't have to uncomfortably avert my eyes.

After the last glass was done, Lynn leaned across me to put her empty glass on the bedside table instead of asking me to do it. Her breasts brushed across my chest and caused an instant reaction, stiffening my already semi-hard cock in my jeans. Lynn settled back to watch the movie but a few moments later suggested I get comfortable too.

"No, I'm fine," I declined. If I got down to my underwear, there was no way I could hide my erection.

Lynn slumped against me after that but it was at least twenty minutes before I realized she was sleeping. I turned off the TV and the light. I got up and turned the covers of her bed down, then turned and leaned over to pick her up. I didn't pick her up right away. Instead, I let my eyes rove over her underwear-clad body. She really was quite a beautiful woman. Reluctantly, I slipped one hand under her back and the other under her thighs. Picking her up, I swiveled her around to her own bed despite every bone in my body, and one in particular, screaming for me to keep her in mine. After setting her down, I took one last, long look, then covered her up.

In the dark, I undressed to my underwear which was tented up with my huge erection. I sat on my bed, swung my feet under the covers, and stretched out. I wanted to relieve myself in the bathroom but refused to go. It was going to be a long night. I turned my head and looked at my sister. I could see her eyes glinting in the dim light.

"I love you, Ty," Lynn whispered, then turned around. "Goodnight," she said.

"Goodnight, Sis."

I couldn't visualize Lynn's breasts that night. My dreams were filled with her white panties, stretched tightly over her mound, the shadowy groove dividing it beckoning to me. I awoke in the night to a soaking pillow: I had bunched it into my mouth and was sucking it. I flipped it over and turned around. Lynn's eyes were glinting again.

"Are you having trouble sleeping?" she asked.

"I guess," I answered. "Are you?"

"No, you woke me up. You were talking in your sleep."

"I was? What was I saying?" I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"I don't know, you were kinda moaning. You were saying something but it was too garbled to make out."

Thank god for that, I thought. I didn't doubt I was calling her name in my sleep. Then, Lynn said something odd.

"Do you miss Mom at night?"

I wasn't sure what to say. Why would she think that after hearing me moaning in my sleep?

"Yes, I guess so. Why?" I asked.

"I just wondered," Lynn replied. "Goodnight, Ty."

"Goodnight, Lynn."

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We arrived at Lynn's late the next afternoon. She lived in a swish neighborhood, nicer than I had expected , and the house appeared to be one of the best on the street. After passing through the electronically controlled gate, we drove up a curved drive through a tunnel of overhanging palm trees before bursting upon the rambling, two-story house with stone-walls blocking the view of the back yard on one side and a three-car garage hiding it on the other. The thick wooden doors opened as soon as we stopped in front and a middle-aged Latino couple emerged to greet us. Manuel took Lynn's bags and allowed me to carry my own while Rosita peppered Lynn with assurances of the children's well-being and questions about her trip.

Lynn's house was fantastic, sprawling and obviously designer decorated, befitting a prominent heart surgeon and his wife. Manuel led me upstairs to one of the guest bedrooms. It looked over the backyard, complete with large pool and gardens, from its own balcony. Except for the palm trees, it reminded me of pictures I had seen of villas in Tuscany. It must have been hard for Lynn to leave this paradise for two weeks to go home. Or was it? Mom had often told me how happy she was that Lynn was doing so well but there was a tension in her voice that hinted of another worry, that like her own, Lynn's life was full from the material satisfaction but wanting in other departments.

The children department certainly wasn't one of those. My niece and nephew were great kids and were now old enough to be interesting in their own right. Each had their own hobbies and, after dinner and a brief visit, they disappeared upstairs to indulge in them. Dale, for his part, adjourned to his office which was off to one side of the living room.

The living room was a large, tiled affair facing the backyard. Dale's office was to one side. Centered in the middle of the back wall was a large stone-work with an integrated natural gas fireplace. This was surrounded by three plush leather couches set around a large stone-tiled table, all of which sat within a sunken floor. Sitting on one of the couches, I could see along the floor into Dale's office through his open door. The 'wall' on either side of the stone encompassing the fireplace, was actually a set of floor to ceiling windows except for the sliding glass doorway near the corner behind me.

Lynn smiled apologetically as Dale walked away. "It's not," she explained a moment later, "that he isn't pleased to see you. He does this every night except twice a year for holidays." She paused, then added, "He's up for Chief of Surgery."

I changed the motion of my head to a nod from the horizontal shake it had adopted when she first spoke.

"So, here we are, alone again," Lynn laughed. "What should we do now?"

"Why don't you show me your yard?" I suggested. "Or should I say, grounds," I laughed.

Lynn laughed with me. "Tomorrow," she said.

"Right. You're probably tired. Well, don't let me keep you up."

"I'm not tired at all," Lynn stretched her legs out on the couch she was sitting on. I was sitting on the couch opposite her on the other side of a large, square, stone coffee table. "Why don't you sit over here so we can talk?" Lynn pointed to the end of the couch stretched between us nearest to her. As she did, she changed her position to sit on the other end of her couch.

"Actually, I think I'll call it a night, if you don't mind," I said, getting up and pretending to stretch.

Lynn looked disappointed. "Ok Ty, but I hope you'll stay for at least a few days. I need to talk to you." I nodded my commitment. "I wish our trip had lasted longer," she said, a wistful expression gracing her face.

I don't know why I ran away. I had thoroughly enjoyed our past two nights together but Dale's presence thirty feet away beyond the partially closed door of his office robbed this evening of the earlier intimacy I had experienced with my sister. I wanted to be with her, but by ourselves, free of potential interruption. At the same time, I was relieved that I wasn't spending another night with her alone in a hotel room, with the promise I had made to Mom so long ago to leave my sister alone hanging over my head. I felt excited just being in her presence and I didn't trust myself to be alone with her.

I went upstairs to bed but I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed remembering Mom's body next to mine. I was surprised by how well I could remember the warmth and texture of her skin. I could even smell her and sense the tremors she emitted when I stroked her breasts and thighs. I hadn't felt that for some time. Was it because of being so close to Lynn, because she looked so much more like Mom than she used to or was it Lynn's apparent availability? When we were teenagers she hadn't been above flaunting her body when she wanted a favor but I knew then, deep inside, that she wouldn't actually do anything. But the past two nights, while Lynn hadn't exactly flaunted herself, I had the uncomfortable feeling that she might and that worried me because then the onus was on me to be the responsible one. I wasn't used to that.

Lynn was almost ten years younger than Mom was when I was first with her. Did she look so much more like Mom because she was now a mother too? That was the one true source of happiness I had observed in Lynn. True, she seemed to love her home but the look on her face when she observed her kids talking to me, telling me about their hobbies, was truly revealing. Lynn's whole body seemed to glow in those moments and I could almost physically feel her love for her children, but I sensed nothing similar when her attention was directed to Dale or, for that matter, from him. His mind was on his career and it seemed she accepted that.

I got up, naked, and walked to the balcony overlooking the back yard. It was after midnight but the moon bathed the grounds in an gentle light. I slid the glass door open as quietly as I could and stepped outside. I breathed the warm air in deep. Lynn had seemed desperate for me to stay and I thought about how lonely she must be. I decided to stay for a while instead of buggering off as soon as possible like I had planned. I stared serenely across the lawn to the trees at the end of the yard, barely moving in the very light breeze.

The movement startled me. There was no sound. It was like something that had been there all along suddenly began to move. I quickly stifled the fear response that burst through me, probably because I realized I was safely on a second floor balcony, and peered into the night to see what the intruder was. A deer, or coyote, or even a burglar? It was moving toward a slash of moonlight that extended from the pool almost to the house. Six more feet and its identity would be revealed. If it was a burglar leaving the house, should I jump over and take him down, or just raise the alarm? Wouldn't they have a security service for a place like this? If I jumped down, would I be mistaken for one of the culprits in the dark?

The shape moved slowly but its motion was more graceful than stealthy. The moonlight burst upon its head and upper body. It was a woman, dressed in a form-fitting black leotard! That surprised me. I had expected the burglar to be a man. She stepped fully into the moonlight and stopped.

My god! She was naked. She stepped forward two or three steps and stopped again, turning her head aside as if to listen for any sign of discovery from behind her.

It was Lynn!

Several more steps and she stopped again. Rather than turning her head to the side her whole body twisted on her feet, bringing her breasts into profile and emphasizing her left buttock as it torqued to push her body around. The moonlight washed around her, defining a halo around her form but leaving her back dark, yet I could still make out the topography of the muscles in her legs and back, and the divide between her buttocks. Her head turned and looked directly back at me. I froze on the balcony, afraid to move, impaled by two glinting points near the top of her head. Could she see me?

Lynn turned and moved eloquently toward the pool. She paused at the edge and I readied myself for her disappearance, expecting her to dive into the water as suddenly as she had appeared below the balcony. She stepped forward and down into the pool, surprising me. Of course. This was the shallow end. Lynn waded into the water and didn't stop until it washed around her thighs just below the swell of her buttocks. Her arms rose and lifted her hair high above her head, pausing to let it fall piece by piece. I could see the swell of her breasts peeking from her sides, bulging from the narrow waist that flared so sharply out to her hips but still in a quintessentially feminine manner. She was luscious.

She was gone, her presence only hinted at by the moonlit ripples spreading over the surface of the pool until the water was still. Was she standing in the middle outside the slash of moonlight or clinging to the side? I leaned forward, peering intently into the dark. Ripples. She was coming back, wading into the light, arms still held high, breasts swaying from side to side as her legs pushed through the water, her dark form disrupted only by the two glints near the top.

I ducked down, crouching behind the stone railing until only my eyes peered over the top. Lynn stepped out of the water and stretched, arching her back and thrusting her naked breasts toward the evening sky. I imagined, even at this distance, that I could see her nipples piercing the night, drips of moonlit liquid dripping from their points. She was coming. My breath caught in my throat and my mouth went dry. Those piercing glints were directed straight ahead as she walked confidently back, but not on the ground. They looked up, directly at my balcony.

I peered through the slats when she got too close to see over the railing. She paused there in front of me and I strained to see her bare breasts and her naked pussy, probably still shedding water from the pool. She moved forward and out of sight.

I stayed in my crouching position until my cramped muscles screamed for release. I stood and leaned over the balcony but couldn't see anything below. Lynn was gone. I looked out over the yard to the pool and imagined I could see her again, walking slowly out, pausing to display her beautiful figure, continuing on to the pool and entering the water, then strolling triumphantly back.

My cock was in my hand. When Lynn's imaginary figure stopped below the balcony, the strokes grew longer and faster. I was pulling it hard now, huffing and puffing, whispering my sister's name, "Lynn... oh god, Lynn... so beautiful," I gasped, frantically yanking my pud. I dropped my left hand onto the railing and leaned forward, stretching up on my toes to get past the railing. I was close. My body went rigid and my balls launched my load into the moonlight. "Lynn," I whispered hoarsely, a scream in everything but sound. "Lynn," I whimpered twice more as more streams of spunk lurched over the balcony, catching the light of the moon as they fell silently until they hit the patio below with a splat.

Chest heaving, I stood up straight and dropped my cock, my head falling back as I stared at the moon. If only Mom hadn't made me promise, I thought, and then, Thank god she did.

I was about to turn around and go to bed when I heard the soft click of the glass door below.

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I was afraid to meet Lynn's eyes the next morning. Dale was long gone by the time I got up and the kids had gone to school. Rosita bustled about the kitchen and I could see Manuel moving about in the backyard as I approached the large, curving granite counter where Lynn sat, drinking her coffee and reading the morning paper.

"Sleep well?" she asked.

"Yeah, like a log from the moment my head hit the pillow," I lied.

Lynn smiled as she looked up. "Me too," she said. "Rosita left you an omelet," Lynn waved at a covered pan on the stove.

I retrieved the omelet, poured myself a coffee, and pushed onto a stool two down from Lynn's near the rounded end of the granite counter. As I ate, I noticed that Lynn drank hers black like me but my attention soon wandered to my sister's body which I had strained so intensely to see last night. She was wearing a simple pale orange dress with a daring neckline that narrowed as it wrapped around her neck but billowed loosely over her partially exposed breasts. The dress didn't hug her body but it didn't have to. I knew it was there and it was stunning.

As my eyes moved over her breasts and down her legs, I wondered why Lynn had done that last night. I was sure she knew I was watching. She knew I'd always had a crush on her. Though she was only a few minutes older than me, she had always been the 'older' sister. That was especially true in high school when the older boys always took the best looking girls and we in turn took the best ones from the year or two behind us. Lynn and her friends weren't shy about letting the guys in our grade know what we couldn't have and that extended to the homefront when Lynn sometimes took perverse pleasure in displaying her wares. But we were adults now. Why was Lynn playing with me? Even the outfit she was wearing now was a provocation.

"You're dressed a little summery," I said.

Lynn looked up and flashed a smile. "Well, I thought you might take me for a drive and I wanted to look like a Camaro girl." She pushed one hand down in front of her and stretched the other above and behind her head, arching her back and pushing her chest forward, giggling.

I looked away. "I thought you'd be tired of driving by now."

"Nope," Lynn said. "I want you to take me away for the day."

"So we can talk," I asked, suspiciously.

"Not unless you want to," Lynn countered. She stretched her hand out to grab mine just as I was about to lift the fork to my mouth. "Let's drive around, just the two of us."

She didn't bat her eyes but she may as well have.

So we ended up driving up the coast. We drove for a couple of hours before turning inland. I didn't know you could find anywhere in Florida without people but Lynn found a small park with only a few people wandering around. We sat down in the grass and ate the lunch Rosita had packed for us. It was very pleasant. When we were finished, Lynn took our empty juice containers and sandwich wrappings to the garbage containers. I watched her all the way there and back.

Lynn lifted her arms and pushed her hair up on the way back, like she'd done when she returned from the pool the night before. My cock immediately began to swell and the memory of losing my load over the balcony, and the soft click of the sliding door below, rushed into my head, making me blush. In my confusion, I thought for an instant that it was Mom walking so sexily back to me, smiling wantonly, her blue eyes glistening in the sun, bracketed by a head full of dark, brown, messy hair. I blinked and stared. No, it was Lynn, her pale reddish hair surrounding her lightly freckled face and green eyes. But she looked no less sexy, and her smile didn't look like one meant for a brother.

She dropped onto the grass beside me but instead of sitting down, she fell onto her stomach. Strange I hadn't noticed until then that Lynn's tanned back was almost completely bare. To make things worse, the hem of the dress had fallen high on Lynn's thighs as she had thrown herself down.

"Could you tickle my back like Mom used to?" she asked.

How could I refuse? I trailed my shaking fingers over my sisters skin, tentatively at first, then with more confidence, and finally with a lighter, almost teasing touch. Stop it, I scolded myself. You promised. But I couldn't help myself. I tickled Lynn's back like no mother ever would. I caressed her skin and visited every inch of it that I could reach, running my fingertips around her shoulder blades and down along her sides, and even dipping underneath the edge of the dress a little. I returned often to the places where Lynn twitched and emitted minute sounds of pleasure.

At one point, I changed hands and for a while even used both. Changing back to one hand again, I noticed that several strands of dried grass had spilled over the back of Lynn's legs and gently brushed them away. Lynn lifted her head and smiled sleepily at me, then dropped it onto her arms with a pleased sigh.

"That feels wonderful," she murmured. "We like that."

Encouraged, I began caressing the back of her legs from the hem of the dress just inches below her bottom to her knees and back. I knew I shouldn't be doing this but rather than stopping I imbued my strokes with extra attention and was pleased when Lynn turned her toes inward which shifted her legs apart to enable the new deportment of her feet. She likes it, so I'll just do this for a while and then we'll go home and I'll leave tomorrow.

Twenty minutes later, I thought, She's so much like Mom. How can I leave her when she seems so lonely? Lynn looked like she was sleeping. She hadn't made a move or a sound for at least five minutes, maybe even ten. That's when my fingers first strayed under her skirt. Lynn twitched and I froze. I got ready to yank my hand away but Lynn moved her feet apart a little more and continued breathing normally. I started tickling her legs again but moved my hand downward toward her knees. I stayed down there for the next few minutes but soon began straying higher, all the while admonishing myself for doing so. Eventually, I pushed my fingers under her dress. There was no reaction, not even a twitch.

For Christ's sake, stop it! You promised Mom.

I never had listened to anyone much, so why should I listen to myself? I stroked up and down Lynn's thighs, along the back and up the tender insides. At the end of each stroke, I ventured higher and let my fingernails scratch more slowly near the apex before returning to her knees. I loved touching her forbidden skin. The very thought of my hand's presence under her skirt was a tremendous turn on, a feeling I hadn't experienced since Mom had passed away.

Oh, Mom. Did you really mean I couldn't touch Lynn forever? You know she did, I answered myself angrily.

If she was awake, I wondered, would Lynn like what I was doing? Did her husband do this anymore? Had he ever? I felt sorry for my sister. She needed someone to truly love her, someone who always had, who always would. If I wasn't her brother, wouldn't she want a man to spoil her like this? Would she want it anyway? My cock stiffened painfully in my shorts at the thought.

My fingers bumped against Lynn's panties. I stopped, panicked, my hand frozen between her upper thighs, knuckles still grazing her panties. Lynn's thighs twitched, then closed on my hand. I stared at her face. Lynn had sucked in a long breath and stopped breathing. Her legs loosened around my hand, quivered, closed, then opened again. Lynn exhaled and began breathing regularly again, shallow, but steady. 

I pulled my hand back out of danger and held it still. Lynn continued to breathe regularly, eyes closed, and relaxed. I pushed my hand forward, fingers stretching out to tickle the inner sides of both thighs. Lynn 'slept' on. My hand moved back and forth, resuming its former path. The crisis was over. I would just do this for a few more minutes and then stop as if nothing had ever happened.

But then I did it again. I curled my fingers into a ball and pushed my hand up until it pressed against Lynn's panties. Her thighs immediately closed over my fist, clutching and releasing rapidly, three or four times. I pulled my hand back and let my fingers deploy, scratching down the inner sides of her thighs, relishing in their trembles, ecstatic in their appreciation of my loving touch.

I pulled my hand away and let it rest on the back of Lynn's left knee. Her ass tensed underneath the dress and strained upward. I slid my hand forward a couple of inches, producing the same response. I looked around the small park. The few elderly people present were far away, sitting on benches and gazing at the gardens. I moved forward, trying to keep my fingers away from the sides of Lynn's thighs but I failed several times, barely grazing her skin. Her legs quivered. In anticipation? Did my sister know what I was doing, at some level. I scrutinized her face. She looked like she'd been sleeping for hours.

I closed my hand into a fist and pushed my arm under Lynn's dress, all the way, until my knuckles thudded into the underside of her panties. Immediately, Lynn's thighs clutched my fist in a spastic series of rapid hugs varying in tempo and duration. Courageously, or foolishly, I kept my hand in place, pushing it more firmly against my sister's panties. The quivering clutches intensified and I moved my fist up and down, rubbing my knuckles over Lynn's panties, and the excited pussy underneath.

Suddenly, her legs went rigid and her thighs literally vibrated around my hand, causing her whole body to shake. It continued for at least a minute but I held my ground until the tremors subsided and Lynn was still. As her legs relaxed, I withdrew my hand, pulling it up to my face and breathing in her scent, gazing at the blue-hairs admiring their own flowers from the benches. Gently, I tugged Lynn's dress down and waited for her to 'wake up'. I waited and waited but Lynn didn't give any sign of waking. She really must have been asleep. I patted her on the bum and, with some difficulty, stopped myself from clutching her cheeks.

"Lynn, wake up. We should go."

I repeated myself but didn't pat her ass again. I didn't trust myself not to grab a handful. Instead, I grasped her ankle and gently shook her leg until Lynn lifted her head and groggily looked back at me.

"Did you let me fall asleep?" she asked.

"I did," I said. "Guilty as charged. You left me all alone with nothing to do but commune with nature and the raisins over there," I waved at the bench and laughed.

"Be nice," Lynn laughed, getting up onto her hands and knees.

I stood and reached down to give her a hand up, thinking about how great it would be to just get down behind her. I wiped the image from my mind with some difficulty.

"Come on," I said. "We should get going."

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Lynn was in an excellent mood that night at dinner. The kids picked up on it and the banter around the table was considerably more active than the night before. Even Dale kicked in with an enthusiasm I hadn't noted in him before. After dessert, Dale and I were left alone. Lynn had gone to the kitchen to discuss something with Rosita and the kids had performed their normal disappearing act, though later than usual. Dale had poured us each a glass of twenty-year-old port.

"I hope you'll stay with us for a while," Dale said after taking his first sip. "Lynn's been a little depressed since your mother passed away but she's like her old self with you here."

Dale held his glass toward me before taking another drink.

"I'm glad to hear that, Dale, but I'm not sure how long I can stay."

"You'll stay at least until the estate is settled, won't you? You can use the cottage if you don't want to stay in the house, I mean, if you need your own space. Manuel and Rosita don't live there anymore. We only use it for guests."

"That's kind of you but no, I'm fine in the house. I don't know how long I'll be staying. I'm feeling a little restless myself."

"All the more reason for you and Lynn to be together," Dale said, pressing his point.

Our heads turned as Lynn's footsteps sounded in the hallway coming from the kitchen. Dale looked back at me and spoke in a confidential tone.

"Well, think about it anyway. I'd really appreciate it and I'm sure Lynn would too."

"I will," I said as Lynn rejoined us.

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That night, I struggled with what I had done in the park. Lynn had had an orgasm. Clearly, something was lacking in her life but I was thankful she hadn't woken up. Getting felt up by her brother, someone she should be able to trust more than almost anyone else, wasn't something she needed to deal with. I hammered my fist into my thigh to emphasize my anger for endangering our relationship and my resolve not to let it happen again. Just because I wanted it didn't mean she did too and I needed to stop deluding myself. It was hard, but I stayed away from the balcony that night, not that Lynn would have been there but I stayed away nonetheless.

It was the weekend. I hung around with kids and took them out for the day. It was a beautiful day and they were excited to go for a drive in the Camaro but soon tired of it. We ended up going to a matinee of all things. That night, we all played Monopoly. Even Dale played for a while but he was he was quickly eliminated.

After the kids went to bed, I sat in the living room and read a book. Well, I stared at the fireplace mostly, but I had a book with me. Dale was working in his office working under the light of a single, jade lamp. Lynn had gone upstairs with the children but soon joined me. Instead of sitting on her regular couch, she sat down beside me with a crossword puzzle book.

"I thought you hated crosswords," I said.

Lynn didn't look away from her puzzle when she answered. "I did but I started doing them after Mom went and I've been doing them ever since. I kind of like doing them now."

I left her to it, picking up my book and trying to read in earnest but my attention was soon distracted by Lynn's bare feet next to me on the small couch. Loveseats, I guess they were actually called. Lynn had tucked her feet up on the couch beside her and was leaning over the arm where the puzzle book rested while she filled it in. I couldn't help glancing at her legs. The sight of them reminded me of the incident in the park and I was about to get up to remove myself from temptation when Lynn stretched her feet out and wiggled her toes under my thigh.

"Are you cold?" I asked. "I can get you a blanket."

"No," Lynn replied.

"No, you don't want a blanket?"

"No."

"Do you want me to turn up the fireplace?"

I started to get up but Lynn stretched her hand out and pressed on my leg, pushing me back down.

"Stay," she said.

I settled back into the couch but I was anything but relaxed. The warmth of Lynn's feet transferred to my flesh. It was more excitement than heat. I kept my face in my book, afraid to look at her legs or her hip and the curve of the tight brown tweed skirt she wore. But I was weak and my eyes soon roamed over her bare lower legs and onto her skirt and even up to the bulge in the side of her textured white blouse. I turned, guiltily, and looked across the floor into Dale's office. He was looking at me and smiled when my eyes met his. I smiled back and quickly looked away, at the fireplace and then at my book and, a moment later, at my sister's feet. She wiggled her toes as if in appreciation.

I tried hard to get into the story, flipping back a few pages to re-read what had transpired — the words having entered my head without comprehension — jaw tensed with determination. I succeeded, to my surprise, and was soon swept up in the action. The hero was on the chase, about to save his lover's life. I turned the page, and lost it.

Hesitantly I dropped my hand onto my thigh and stared blankly at the fresh pages. I tried to rebuild in my mind what had happened, not in the book but on the couch, for my hand hadn't lifted from my leg to turn the page, it had risen from the side where it had been cupping the back of Lynn's ankle. My skin prickled. Lynn's hand found mine, and dragged it off my thigh and onto her heel, then pushed it up to her ankle before returning to her crossword.

I kept still. All I could think of was pulling my hand back but instead my fingers closed around my sister's leg. Lynn wiggled her foot and I started to pull my hand away but she grasped it once again and pushed it back onto her ankle, then moved it up and down to indicate what she wanted it to do before releasing it. I repeated her prescribed motion and Lynn's hand returned to the puzzle book.

So I started rubbing the back of Lynn's calves. I moved up to the part where her muscles thickened then traveled back to her heels and around to the bottom of her feet, tickling her soles. I moved slowly, not just because that was the way I would normally do it, but also because I wanted to avoid detection. I glanced toward Dale several times, feeling guilty, like I was doing something wrong and violating his trust. But my obligation to my sister won over that and the fear I felt within myself about my own weakening resolve. I continued stroking Lynn's legs.

Lynn shifted her weight and wiggled her legs about when she turned the page to start a new puzzle, causing her feet to pull away from under my leg. I lifted my thigh, expecting her to push her feet back underneath but instead she pulled them, and my hand, toward herself. My hand was suddenly pressed between Lynn's ankles and the bottom of her tweed skirt. I sat still, wondering if it was an accident and whether I should extricate my hand. I looked at Dale's office and caught him looking at me again. He smiled and I smiled awkwardly in return. He was still watching when Lynn's hand dropped onto mine and urged it to continue its stroking caress along the back of her legs. I thanked the architect that had designed this house with a sunken living room. Dale was straight across and slightly back from my line of sight looking behind Lynn so he probably couldn't see anything on the couch anyway, just our heads and shoulders.

I looked down, briefly mesmerized by her instructing hand, then looked back at her husband. I smiled and Dale smiled back before looking down at his desk. Lynn's hand released mine but hovered above until its continued motion was assured. I was acutely conscious that my hand, stroking the back of Lynn's ankle and calf, was also rubbing along the bottom of her brown, tweed skirt.

I don't know how may times my hand scraped along that rough material before I realized that when Lynn had changed her position she had cocked her hips. The one nearest me was turned up so my hand was rubbing between her legs and bottom more than it was scraping down the side as before and, at the end of each stroke, my hand briefly left the roughness of the skirt to stroke the underside of Lynn's bare thighs. I must have been unconsciously lengthening my strokes because I began sensing more and more skin. Looking down, I confirmed that I was almost reaching the back of Lynn's knees with each stroke but I noticed something else too. With each stroke back to her heels, my hand tried to drag her skirt along too, and it was meeting with some success. I looked up quickly to see if Dale was watching but he was sitting back, face buried intently in a large reference book.

As I looked back at Lynn, her puzzle book caught my eye. It wasn't a new one; it was tattered and old, and looked strangely familiar. Just then, Lynn shifted slightly and my hand, caught in mid-stroke halfway down her leg, suddenly slipped up, slightly between her thighs with the arch behind my thumb pressing against the hem of her skirt. There was no reason for my thumb to be extended like that between my sister's legs but it was and as my hand continued stroking back, my thumb dragged Lynn's skirt along with it.

Lynn's leg muscles were tense and I realized that she was holding herself up from the couch, making it easier for the skirt to travel. My hand slid back along her calf, this time caressing more than rubbing, all the way to her knee. On the way back, I consciously flipped my thumb up high and pulled it between the press of Lynn's thighs, hooking and dragging her skirt way back. Lynn's leg muscles relaxed and she sank into the cushion, her thighs closing over my thumb. I jerked my head toward Dale. He was still reading. I leaned toward Lynn.

"Are they hard puzzles?"

My voice was unintentionally hoarse, reflecting the feelings coursing through me at that moment. My thumb pressed deeper between Lynn's thighs and I knew from the heat it was near her panties.

"Yeah. It's one of Mom's."

My breath caught and I stared at the book, searching for clues but I didn't recognize it as the one that had started us on our path of love. Of course not, idiot. She wouldn't have left that one for someone to find. I breathed again and realized that Lynn's breath had caught too when she inhaled. This wasn't a park and Lynn wasn't sleeping. We were sitting together and my hand was between her legs. Why wasn't she jumping up and slapping me? Why wasn't she at least angry? I mean, her husband was only twenty feet away!

I wiggled my thumb and Lynn shuddered but her hand began filling in a word as if nothing had happened. I pushed my hand deeper between her thighs, ignoring her calves, and moved it back and forth in short strokes, worming its way back toward her panties. Lynn finished the word and looked up and away and I knew she was looking at Dale. I looked up and saw him smiling at us. I smiled back and pulled my hand until the back of my extended thumb contacted the front of my sister's panties. I looked away and Lynn's thighs tightened around my hand. She was still looking at her husband as I wiggled my thumb across the crease in her panties. Her grip tightened, so tightly it would have been difficult to pull my hand away, even if I wanted to... and I didn't, despite the screaming morality center of my mind.

After a long look at Dale, Lynn finally looked back at her puzzle. I dropped my book and moved the hand that had been holding it toward her crossword puzzle book, keeping the thumb of my other hand pressed firmly against her panties.

"Which puzzle book is it?" I asked calmly, still pretending that nothing unseemly was happening.

"They're all the same, aren't they?" Lynn said, her voice sounding more tense than mine.

"No, Mom liked some better than others. I imagine that's why she kept this one, unless it was just one of the last ones she was working on," I theorized.

Lynn brushed my hand away onto the top of her skirt.

"It's not the one you're thinking of," Lynn said, her voice turning husky.

I was shocked.

"I wasn't thinking of any one in particular," I stammered.

"Oh, weren't you?" Lynn asked, her tone now teasing. Her hand dropped onto mine where it rested on top of her thighs, near her knees, and pushed my fingers over until they drooped between her legs.

"No. Why would I?" I responded, feeling excited about where her hand was directing me, vying with the fear generated by her hint about the secret crossword book.

"I don't know," Lynn said, using her hand to pull mine into her lap and dragging the top of her skirt back to be more in line with the bottom. I rubbed my lower hand up and down, pressing it even more firmly against her panties. "Maybe it's something we should talk about," she said.

"I'd rather not," I replied thickly. I was violating my promise to Mom not to come on to Lynn but I had already convinced myself — I was learning how easy that was to do while in the surging throes of passion — that Mom had really meant back then, when my sister and I were both young. Surely, now that Lynn was a grown woman with children of her own, it should be her own decision. The last thing I wanted to discuss with Lynn now was any hint of the promise I had made to our mother and its clear message that we shouldn't be doing what we were doing.

I leaned forward to peer closely at the crossword puzzle, feigning a struggle to find a clue in aid of my sister. Part of my problem-solving process, it seems, required my left hand to descend between Lynn's legs until its fingertips met those of my right. I cupped her pantied pussy and moved my lower hand back, pressing its edge into the fleshiness of Lynn's ass, thrilled to find that she favored the tiny, thong type of lingerie. Amid several small gasps, I worked my hands, front and back, across and under Lynn's pussy and used the ridge between my thumb and index finger to scrape over her ass. It was overly rough but, judging by Lynn's suddenly harsh breathing, exactly what the doctor had ordered. Well, except for the doctor in the nearby office.

My bliss was shattered by the click of darkness as the light in Dale's office abruptly vanished. I lurched back and leaned over to my own side of the small couch just as Dale emerged from his darkened den. Lynn was pulling the bottom of her skirt down and pushing the top toward her knees with her other hand as her husband approached. The evening was effectively over.

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I fought with myself that night. Far from the excitement of the moment, my morals were holding more sway. By midnight, I was almost to the point of reaffirming my vow, the feel of Lynn's thighs clamped tightly over my hand and the smell of her heat fading from my fingers, when she reappeared in the back yard. The moon was less full this time but I could still see her naked form, walking more seductively than before to the edge of the pool, then sauntering slowing into the water until she suddenly dipped in and disappeared. Standing naked on the balcony with my erection launched at forty-five degrees to salute her imminent return. I waited and waited for Lynn to emerge from the water until, finally, I caught a sudden movement to the northwest.

Lynn was standing under a tree, watching me. She must have swum to the end of the pool, got out there, and circled around to the side near the cottage. The moonlight reflected off her naked breasts, which glistened with trickles of water from the pool. Her face was hidden in the shadows beneath the branches but the glints of her eyes looked directly at me. Her head turned and I knew she was looking at the cottage, then they turned back to me.

If you go, you're doomed, screamed the voice in my head.

I looked over the edge of the balcony to see if I could jump down. If it had been lawn, maybe, but it was a patio. I started to turn toward the door, wondering if I could sneak through the house without setting off the alarms.

On the memory of your mother, screamed the voice.

I stopped in my tracks and turned back to face the yard, and my sister. For a long moment, we stared at each other, neither of us moving. Then, my right hand dropped to my erection and grasped it firmly as my left arm lifted toward her. I stroked my cock. The glints burned brighter, then became even more fierce as Lynn extended one hand toward me while the other moved between her naked thighs to cup her sex. I began stroking faster.

This is wrong, the voice whined.

Shut up, I rasped in return. Give me this, at least, just this.

I stared at those glinting pinpoints as my hand moved faster and faster. When my chest began to heave, my eyes dropped to my sister's lowered hand, working feverishly between her legs. She had bent slightly forward, allowing me to see her face in the moonlight, strained yet ecstatic. I dropped my arm and leaned forward to brace my hand on the rail, my facial expression now matching my sister's. Low moans were ripping from my throat and though I was too far away to hear Lynn, I was sure the same was happening to her. I was yanking my cock so hard it was almost ripping off my body. Only seconds left. I tried to stifle it, wanting to come when she did, but I couldn't wait. It was coming, coming.

"Ohhhhhh, yeah," I groaned aloud. "Yeah, yeah... yeah," I grunted, more subdued, wanking slower but just as hard, my legs clenched, crouching over the railing as spurt after spurt arced through the night, flashing in the moonlight, and falling with audible splats on the patio below.

Lynn was hunched over, both hands between her legs, convulsed in her own orgasm. She fell to her knees on the lawn, her whole body shuddering through her climax. I released my drained cock and let it diminish, still half hard but becoming increasingly feeble between my legs. I leaned on the stone railing with both hands and watched the twitching in my sister's body slowly subside until she was still.

Lynn straightened up and stretched beyond her full height, on her toes, before relaxing to her normal stance. She smoothed her hair back and walked slowly toward me with the same seductive gait she had adopted earlier. I couldn't see the color of her eyes in the dark but her hair seemed to strangely flip from the dark brown of our mother's to the soft red of her own. As in the park, one moment it looked like Mom walking toward me and the next, Lynn.

I straightened up as she approached the balcony immediately in front of me. Why didn't she look up? Was she ashamed? That couldn't be, it flew in the face of her confident, sexual stroll toward me. As I pondered her submissive posture, Lynn looked up, smiled, and then immediately looked down again, at her feet. Her right foot moved, scraping over the patio, then lifted to rest, braced against her left knee with the bottom of her foot twisted up. Lynn looked up again and laughed. I couldn't see it but I knew she was showing me that she had purposely stepped in my wasted semen.

Her foot dropped, and she slipped under the balcony into the night.

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Lynn looked positively radiant the next day. She was dressed in a little print dress that accentuated her narrow waist and was equally flattering for her hips. The light material followed every curve of Lynn's body despite the looseness of the skirt. In short, the dress didn't hide the fact that Lynn had a very nice bottom distinctly constituted from two sculptured lumps of feminine flesh which were definitely not held rigidly in place. A similar situation was evident above her waist. She was a joy to watch.

A day of family relaxation was planned around the pool but Dale was called in to an emergency surgery just as breakfast was winding up. There was a quick kiss goodbye and a "be good for your mother" to the children before a nod to me. "Think about it," Dale said.

"Think about what?" Lynn quizzed me after Dale had gone.

"Nothing," I said.

"It isn't nothing. What is it?" Lynn persisted, poking me. "You know I'll bug you until I find out," she said.

"Yeah, spill it," Gordon said, echoed by a louder chant from his sister and an even more boisterous plea from their mother.

I relented under the combined assault. "Your Dad asked me to stay for a while."

The kids started chanting, "Stay, stay, stay."

"He offered the cottage if I wanted my own space," I added in the din.

"Stay, stay, stay."

"Ok," I laughed. "I'll stay for a while."

The kids cheered and crowded around my chair to hug me. Lynn reached out and put her hand over mine.

"Thanks, bro. You don't know how much it means to us."

After the kids left, I poured myself another cup of coffee. Rosita came in and started clearing away the dishes. When she left, I spoke in a low voice to Lynn.

"It won't be easy for me to be here," I said, looking meaningfully at my sister. "I think we both know that things have gotten a little crazy." Lynn nodded and I appreciated that she wasn't going to pretend that nothing was going on. "But you need to know," I went on, " that I made a promise and I intend to keep it."

Lynn smiled and squeezed my hand. "We should all keep our promises," she said.

"So we understand each other, then?"

"Yes, little brother. We do."

I was surprised that she wasn't more curious about what promise I had made but I left it at that. I briefly wondered if Mom had said anything to her about it but quickly rejected the idea. There was no way Mom would have told Lynn what she and I had done. No way.

"Alright then. I'll move into the cottage today."

"Great. I'll get Rosita to make sure it's clean and have Manuel move your things."

"No, you won't. I can clean it myself and move my own stuff."

"But...,"

"No buts. I'll look after myself or it's no deal.

"But...,"

"And no visitors, unless they're invited," I said.

"The kids will miss you."

"The kids can come over anytime."

Lynn was miffed at that. "What about dinner?" she asked tartly.

"I'd love to come for dinner." That was timed perfectly as Rosita returned. "I love Rosita's cooking," I expounded. Rosita grinned.

"So do we all," Lynn said.

Rosita scooped up the rest of the dishes and left.

"And I'll eat breakfast alone," I said.

"Suit yourself."

Lynn softened later and it turned out to be a very pleasant day. While she tanned, the kids and I swam in the pool. We had lunch and then all of us piled into the Camaro to find an ice cream place for dessert. Dale called to say he couldn't make it for dinner and asked if I would take Lynn and the kids out for dinner, his treat of course. Lynn insisted we go to IL Bellagio's, one of her favorites. When we got home, Dale was in his study. He made it home in time for dinner but let Rosita rustle up something for him to eat rather than trying to catch up to us.

After the kids went to bed, we watched some old family films that Lynn had converted to DVDs. I was shocked to see how much Lynn looked like Mom at Lynn's age. Of course, the dress helped. Lynn smiled, pleased with herself, when I recognized the dress she was wearing. It didn't look nearly so risqué on Mom, but then it wasn't designed to be worn over such tiny panties and a half bra. We had started on separate couches but when Mom appeared in the same dress Lynn was wearing she moved to mine — so she could see better she said — but kept her distance.

"Didn't she look great in this?" Lynn asked, bending her wrists and waving her hands down the front of her body while nodding at Mom on the screen.

"Yes, she certainly did," I replied.

Lynn paused the film with Mom walking toward the camera, the still frame profiling Mom's mid-thirties figure perfectly for a detailed comparison. I knew what Lynn was doing but despite myself, I ran a slow comparison between her and Mom. Lynn kept her eyes on the screen, either to allow me all the time I needed for an uninhibited assessment or to perform her own evaluation. She allowed her body to stretch and relax, lift slightly and relax at all the proper moments as my eyes appreciated the vibrancy beneath her skin, at once both herself and a live version of Mom. I had to confess, between the two of them, it was a tie.

With a throaty chuckle, Lynn unpaused the DVD and seemed pleased when my attention didn't return immediately to the screen. A moment later, I found myself watching Lynn's legs. She had crossed the one nearest me over the other and was slowly bouncing it up and down. I stared blankly for a few seconds at her feet, crested with a strange tone of red paint over her toenails which were visible since Lynn straightened her leg at the top of each swing. My eyes soon refocused, however, when I noticed the muscles along the side of her thigh, now almost completely bare because she had pulled the hem of her skirt way back. The flesh under her thigh alternately tensed and relaxed with each swing of Lynn's leg. I don't know how long I looked at her leg but the tightening in my shorts indicated it was for more than a few seconds. I was about to call it a night while I could still escape when Lynn suddenly blurted out.

"Look," she cried, unfolding her leg and leaning forward, pointing at the screen. "This is my favorite part."

I jerked my face away from Lynn's leg in time to see Mom run over and try to pull my sister off me. Lynn had me on the ground, straddling my chest and holding my arms to the side with her knees. As Mom pulled her back my head raised up, still calling for help, but my eyes shifted down and it was apparent where I was looking. Lynn rose up on her knees but Mom kept pulling her back. She struggled but Mom won, at a cost. Both of them tumbled backward, rolling onto their backs and shoulders as I sat up, eyes still locked between my sister's legs, but the camera soon caught their lateral movement to my mother. I was still staring, mesmerized, when the camera shifted to Mom and Lynn, shrieking and pushing their dresses down, yelling at Dad to stop filming.

"See, you always were Mom's favorite, and she yours," Lynn asserted, looking at me intensely as if waiting for a challenge.

I had no doubt that Lynn knew exactly where I was looking, not just at her but at Mom, too. As if to confirm my suspicion, Lynn turned her eyes down and I realized that my erection had grown substantially during the scene and was suffering further impetus under my sister's admiring gaze.

Dale's chair suddenly scraped back and I turned to look. He was straightening up, mug in hand, and turning toward his door. I sucked in my breath and froze for a second then turned frantically to find something to cover myself with. I reached for the cushion at my side, but it was gone. I jerked my head back. Dale had made it to the door and was searching for the light switch. Lynn was silently laughing, her eyes glinting mischievously. She was holding the cushion and as soon as I saw it, she tossed it back onto the couch behind her with an accompanying increase in apparent amusement. Her eyes dropped to my errant erection, proudly announcing its presence half way down the right leg of my shorts, unaware of the imminent peril. The light in Dale's office went out and he walked through the doorway, turning to pull the door closed.

Lynn suddenly lurched forward and threw herself across my lap, covering my shorts, and my stiff cock. I stared at the screen, sitting stiffly as Dale approached, jaw set, desperately trying to get my feelings under control but the pressure of my sister's breasts on top of my stiff member made that technically impossible. Fear of her husband's discovery and the feminine warmth of Lynn's body forced my mind to follow my eyes' piercing attack on the screen, hoping Dale couldn't see Lynn lying atop me and that he would simply courteously walk by and go upstairs to bed . I was gritting my teeth so hard, I thought they would shatter when Dale's voice startled me. He was standing right behind me.

"Too much for her, was it?" he inquired.

I looked back, saw the direction of his gaze, and looked down at Lynn lying across my lap, my hands hovering awkwardly above her back.

"Uh..."

"Was she upset?" Dale asked.

"I don't... uh, I..."

"She often gets that way when she watches this but likes to be on her own," Dales voice kind of dwindled off.

I let my hand fall on Lynn's back and gently rubbed her shoulder, more to buy into Dale's interpretation of what was going on than to comfort Lynn. Her body trembled and I knew it was from tightly held laughter. Anger welled up within me. This wasn't funny!

I gripped her shoulder and the situation immediately became worse. Lynn's hand, which had being hanging listlessly over my knee, bent and, under the cover of her body, threaded its way between my knees and into the leg of my shorts. Her fingers wiggled up the inside of my thigh and tickled the underside of the tip of my cock just as her husband spoke again.

"She likes to watch this by herself," Dale expanded on his previous statement as Lynn's hand moved higher. "It makes her quite melancholy and she always wants to be alone afterward."

Lynn's finger stretched out and her nail scratched back along the underside of my cock. I cried out in surprise but managed to convert my outburst into a cough, which was repeated several times because as I leaned forward to hack away, I unintentionally thrust my hard cock along the length of Lynn's palm which immediately squeezed it against my leg while her fingers curled around my shaft. When I leaned back Lynn's soft hand pulled the skin over the head. I coughed again, but remained upright.

"Are you alright?" Dale asked. Lynn's hand pushed the skin back over my shaft and her fingers stretched out to tickle the underside of my balls, before dragging the skin back over my cockhead and capping the stroke off with a gentle, loving pinch.

"Yes, I'm fine," I gasped. Lynn's fingers were tickling my balls again.

"Would you like some water?" Dale asked. She was on the upstroke and squeeze.

"That would be great," I croaked.

As soon as he turned away, I thought, I could shove Lynn's hand out of my shorts. But Dale ignored his offer. He was leaning over, looking down at his wife.

"I guess she just couldn't watch it anymore, hey?"

I looked down at Lynn, wondering why he couldn't tell that his wife was jacking me off right in front of him but now that I looked, knowing that her hand was slowly sliding up and down my cock, I couldn't see any evidence of her outrageous behavior either. Lynn looked like she was peacefully napping on my lap.

"She just can't make it through the whole thing, poor girl," Dale said.

I looked at Lynn's head. "Yeah, I guess so," I said.

Lynn was facing me, her head pressing against the plushly cushioned arm of the leather couch. While her husband's attention was on her face, sweet Lynn scratched her nail along the underside of my throbbing cock, shoved her palm aggressively down my shaft, and folded her fingers around my balls. I managed to turn my groan into a strangled gulp.

"Oh, your water," Dale exclaimed. "I forgot."

He turned away and I tried to push Lynn's shoulder up so I could reach under to shove her hand off my cock but she resisted, her couch side hand grabbing my shorts and pulling them higher up my leg, exposing my cock. Or it would have, if I managed to push her off or she got up. I changed my tactic, wrapping a hand over each shoulder and pulling her down. I was surprised by how easily her body moved. It was so quick, her rump hunched up and her head slid back onto my lap. Her free hand pulled my shorts up even higher while her engaged manipulator, still holding my cock, lifted it from my leg and guided it into her mouth.

It was strange how I could be intensely aware of two situations at the same time. I heard the tap running in the kitchen and could picture Dale there, filling a large glass several times and dumping it out, waiting for the water to cool. At the same time, I was blissfully aware of how fantastic his wife's mouth felt sliding down my organ, rendering it slick with her hot saliva. If I was so adverse, why did I let Lynn's head advance and retreat half a dozen times before trying to push it away.

The water had stopped running. I could 'see' Dale returning, slowly, trying not to spill the glass he had filled too full. I needed more time to get my sister off my cock but why had my hand curled around the back of her neck, why had the other closed its grip on her hair, and why was I pulling her onto my cock and groaning out loud. I could hear Dale's slippers shuffling over the tiles in the hallway now. My hips lunged forward and I was perversely pleased that I had caught his wife by surprise, her wet gulp like music in my ears. I held her head, denying her retreat, nudging her throat in revenge. Take that, you ballsy little bitch, holding my cock firmly against the back of my sister's mouth and releasing her head only when I heard her husband's feet rounding the corner.

Lynn pushed up to her former position and my only thought was to ensure that she had adequately covered my cock, not that she had let it go. In fact, I didn't want her to release my cock and I wished Dale had taken longer so I could have enjoyed her mouth for longer.

"Here you go," Dale announced his arrival.

I twisted around to capture the glass of cold water from his outstretched hand. Lynn's hand was twisting tightly around the head of my cock and her other one, taking advantage of the lift of my twisting body, slipped under my ass, inside my shorts, and curled up to grasp my balls. Lynn started slowly jacking me off while the fingers of her other hand repeatedly clasped and released my balls. I held the glass up in my left hand and dropped the right onto Lynn, lightly brushing her upper back in a tender, brotherly caress. I ignored Dale and looked at the screen.

"It's amazing how much she looked like Lynn at that age," Dale commented.

"Yes. The other way around, actually," I said, taking a long sip of cold water which didn't dampen the heat I felt throughout my body the least bit.

"Of course," Dale said.

We watched in silence as Dad filmed Mom getting up and sauntering down the sandy beach while little Lynn and I played nearby. Even in the old two-piece suits of the day, it was impossible to hide the fact that Mom had a very nice body. Lynn's stroking hand and fingers were almost an afterthought. Dale and I both watched a very sexy looking woman slowly wade into the water until the waves covered her bottom. Only then did Dale speak, awkwardly, as if he shouldn't have been watching.

"Well," he paused to give a little cough. "I guess I'll go up to bed."

I downed the water and handed it back to him.

"Don't let her stay down here. She won't sleep well."

"I won't," I replied thickly.

Lynn was really starting to get to me, maybe because the screen had reminded me of how Mom's hands and mouth felt on my cock. Weird, the effect of genes. The movements of Lynn's hands were almost identical to Mom's.

I turned to watch Dale walk away and transferred my hand automatically to the back of Lynn's head as it moved down onto my lap, sucking my cock into her mouth just as her husband disappeared around the corner. I didn't try to shove it into her mouth hard. I was in no hurry and knew I had lots of time now. I relaxed into the back of the couch as Lynn's mouth worked my stiff prick, content to let my hand move back and forth with the movements of her head, fingers gently twining in her hair. Mom was swimming lazily back and forth amongst the other swimmers. She looked good, and her daughter's mouth felt wonderful.

Lynn began sucking more earnestly. I knew she wanted to make me come. She had been flaunting herself in front of me constantly since we'd left home despite knowing about my promise. She must have some idea of what it was about, yet she wanted to taste me, in a sense, right in front of Mom.

I no longer cared. I didn't have the will to keep my promise to Mom, not if it meant denying the person I most loved in the world. I didn't have the heart to say no.

I twisted underneath Lynn, resting my back against the cushion and holding her hair back so I could watch her mouth plunge up and down on my cock. She seemed so happy and I did too, not terrible like I felt I should. I turned to look at the screen just as Mom waded out of the water, rivulets running off her body as she walked, arms pushing her hair up high before letting it fall. She looked gorgeous. 

I grasped Lynn's head firmly and started thrusting into her mouth. Lynn's eyes strained toward the screen, seeking understanding for my sudden urgency. She mumbled something, gargled really, but I couldn't understand what she said. Come? Maybe. I shoved my hips up and made her gargle again.

Yeah, like that, Sis. Like that.

I began thrusting regularly with full strokes, pulling almost all the way out of Lynn's mouth before shoving deep inside again. I stretched my head back and lunged, time after time, into Lynn's sweet face.

Mom was speaking. I turned to look. Stop it," she giggled, waving the camera away but not moving out of its way. I strained my head forward, firmly holding Lynn's, and thrust harder, watching Mom dance around in front of the camera.

"Unnngghhhh, unnngghhh, unnngghhhh," I groaned, pulling Lynn's head hard on my cock, my own bouncing up and down with the effort, hanging over the arm of the couch, eyes straining not to miss a single erotic movement of Mom's breasts and legs, or a single flash of her eyes, or the tinkle of her playful laugh. Lynn's face was straining sideways too, just as unwilling to miss an instant of Mom's presence.

No, really. Stop it! Mom cried, just as I exploded down Lynn's throat.

"Oh Mom!" I cried. "Oh Sis," I wailed, pumping my seed, slowing, my head falling back and Lynn's following, keeping her mouth on my cock, not too save her furniture, I knew, but loathe to break our illicit contact. My cock popped out of Lynn's mouth with a loud sucking sound.

"We're here," she soothed, immediately capturing my wavering dick and folding her lips around it, sucking in the last of my seepage as I lay, gasping, back arched and head flung back.

Lynn's mouth slid off my cock a moment later and her arms tugged on mine, urging me back onto the couch. She pulled me up and let me fall back until my head hit the arm properly, then scrambled up my chest. I thought she was going to take me then, to insert my cock within her womb while the new scene of Mom played out, now in our old backyard. That's ok, I thought. I'll fuck you now. But it wasn't to be.

"It's our turn now," Lynn husked, her knee pressing between the couch and my head as the other leg stretched over the arm. She pulled her dress up with one hand while the other pulled my face toward her outstretched leg and bare pussy. I couldn't see the screen but I could see that Lynn was watching it as she lowered her cunt onto my mouth. "Lick us," she said.

We. Us. Why the plural. Was Lynn really losing it? Did she really think Mom was inside her? I didn't think she was referring to Mom's presence on the screen because she had made the reference before. Maybe Lynn needed to feel that Mom was still here. Maybe that's how she handled her loss. I opened my mouth and pushed my tongue up hard. Lynn's cunt squeezed tightly around it and she moaned.

"Ohhh, Ty. Lick me, lick us," she purred.

I lapped up her juice, my hands coming up to cup her ass, such a lovely ass. I tried to hold her still so I could direct my tongue around her pussy but soon gave up. Lynn knew exactly where she wanted me and steered her nether lips around my wet digit, gripping my head firmly, like I had controlled hers.

"Eat me, eat us," she urged, venting her confusion in gasping commands, her hips rubbing, lurching, lunging, and squeezing my head.

"Do you want it?" she moaned. I tried to nod my head, or shake it, I wasn't sure. "Do you want to fuck it?" she cried, grinding on my face.

"Yeah!" I yelled, my muffled cry drowned in her soaking cunt.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh," Lynn wailed, yanking my head up tight, her legs shivering, soaking my face. "I want you to fuck it," she cried, pulling back, rubbing her pussy across my nose. One final gasp, and Lynn sprawled back onto my chest and legs. She lay there, breathing hard, one foot on the floor to steady herself and the other stretched out beside my head, curled over onto my face. I kissed it.

"I love you," I whispered, but I don't think she heard me. I turned away. Mom was staring out of the screen, an odd expression on her face. What was she looking at?

I ignored Dale's instructions. I left Lynn on the couch. The last thing I was going to do was carry her up to his bed, reeking of sex.

Passion subsiding, I promised myself I would leave soon. At least, I'd think about it.

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I didn't join them for breakfast the next day. Instead, I stayed in bed, lolling around, listening to the birds singing. I heard Dale leave early. An hour later the children's voices graced the morning air but soon, they too, were gone. I expected to see Lynn coming across the lawn right after that but she didn't appear. Still, I didn't get up.

Manuel appeared, clippers in hand, and trimmed the small, shaped hedges peppered around the lawn. He moved slowly in the hot morning sun. I dozed off and awoke with a minor start. She was coming, an almost transparent robe billowing about a flimsy summer dress that didn't look like more than a slip. As Lynn came closer, I saw that it was a slip. Her hair varied again as she walked, from light red to deep brown, a trick of the morning light. There was almost a bounce to her step but not quite; it was more like she was flowing, as if in a dream. Was I awake?

She passed by Manuel, saying something and he turned to answer but she was already past. He made the sign, his hand crossing over his chest in several passes before rising up to his forehead. Quickly, he turned away.

Lynn burst through the open glass doors into my bedroom, the filmy curtains draining over her body until she was completely inside. She was wearing a slip. Just a slip, nothing more. The curtains had been the billowing robe, fooling my brain. She raised one sexy leg and placed a knee on the edge of my bed, her hand pulling back, holding the hem up on that side, fully exposing her gorgeous thigh. Lynn tossed the book she was holding in her other hand. It landed on my chest. As I drew myself up onto my pillow, she arched her back and thrust her breasts against the silky slip. My sister was definitely naked underneath, at least, above the waist.

"Mom never told me about your promise but I know all about it anyway. I'm not stupid, you know."

I picked up the book and Lynn swung her other knee onto the bed, holding the hem up on that side too. It was the crossword book that had started it all, worn and dog-eared. I leafed through the pages until I found it: 'tits', 'pussy', 'showme', followed by 'leave her alone' and 'PROMISE'. I looked at Lynn. Did she really understand what I had done, what a louse I really was?

"So what about it? So what if I wanted you to show me your tits and pussy. You never did, until that day I ran into your room."

"Yeah, I know, but you might remember that I threw this away."

Although her words were accusing, Lynn's voice was soft.

Still, I was defensive in my response, "Well, it wasn't yours to throw away. It was Mom's."

"So you took it out of the trash so she could find it?" Lynn demanded.

"No. She hadn't finished it. You know how she was with her crosswords. She would have looked for it and but she never would have looked back at the puzzles she'd already finished so it would have been safe," I justified my removal of the book from the trash in Lynn's bedroom.

"But she did, didn't she?"

"I didn't think she would," I said firmly, feeling like I was getting in too deep in an argument I couldn't win, just like every argument I'd ever had with Lynn.

"I think you knew she would."

"Give me a break. Why would I purposely risk getting caught with that," I jabbed my finger at the offending puzzle.

"You tell me," Lynn purred, settling down on her rump, the slip riding higher as she did.

"There's no answer to that. It was just an accident that she saw it, that's all."

I couldn't hold Lynn's eyes and mine fell away, to her shoulder, and then onto her breasts which, with her hip cocked to one side, bulged against the thin slip.

"I think you wanted Mom to find it," Lynn's voice was barely audible.

"Why would I want that," I demanded.

"So you could force her into a promise," Lynn pointed at the book, now closed but I knew she was indicating the bold word: 'PROMISE' after 'leave her alone'. It was pretty incriminating.

"What did you make her do for you to keep her promise."

I shook my head.

"Tell me," Lynn demanded in her soft tone.

I looked up defiantly. Lynn dragged the hem of her slip up to her hips, revealing the absence of panties as well as bra. The slip delved deeply between her tanned breasts and I realized, as if it was a revelation, that Lynn tanned in the nude, or nearly nude. Manuel must love that, I thought.

"Tell me," she repeated.

I shook my head.

"I want to know," she insisted, pushing her hips forward, forcing her knees apart. Her pussy lips still looked ravaged, even though it must have been twelve hours since they had rubbed so roughly across my face. "I'll tell you what I promised her if you tell me about yours," my sister purred convincingly, pulling the hem of the slip up her sides, exposing the underswells of her breasts.

I shook my head. Lynn pulled the slip over her head and tossed it on the bed, shaking her hair, swishing it back and forth across her face.

"Tell me," she said coquettishly, her hands, now free from holding the slip, stretching forward to grasp the sheet covering me. "Tell me," she repeated, clawing the sheet back, drawing it down my chest until it caught on my erection. I hadn't even been aware of getting excited but all at once, I felt incredibly horny. I should have left early. I should have gone. The sheet, tented up by my rising erection, was still caught on my tip but a small tug from Lynn sent it cascading down my shaft and over my heavy balls.

Lynn tittered, "He will if you won't."

"I can't keep doing this, Lynn. You know what I promised Mom."

Lynn yanked the sheet down to my feet and quickly straddled my legs. She placed her hands on my hips on either side of my throbbing cock and leaned over it.

"Tell me," she whispered, close enough to blow her hot breath over my tip. "I know you promised not to fuck me but what did Mom do for you so you wouldn't?"

I shook my head and Lynn expelled a longer breath.

"Did she touch it for you? Like this?"

Lynn slipped her hand under my balls and grasped my shaft with her other hand, slowly jacking my cock, shaking the tip under her open mouth. She raised her lashes and gazed directly into my eyes.

"You asked for more, didn't you? Something like this?" Lynn's tongue flicked out and pasted itself against the underside of my helmet, then slowly licked up and off the tip. I groaned, helpless. "Did Mom have to suck you to protect me?" Lynn hissed, dropping her mouth over my cockhead and sliding it halfway in before jerking her head off.

"It wasn't like that," I gasped.

"But she did suck you, didn't she?"

I nodded and lifted my hips up, pushing my cock toward Lynn's mouth. Whether or not I should have left, I needed her now. One more suck and lick and I'd make my escape. Lynn granted my wish, dipping her head and taking me into her mouth again, her fingers twisting around my shaft, but she withdrew before I could get in deep. She repeated this over and over until I was lifting my ass off the bed at least a foot trying to shove my aching cock into her mouth. Lynn kept applying her sweet torture, never letting me get in more than halfway. She even helped by pushing her knees under my ass, letting me rest it on her thighs while she worked magic with her mouth. The surprising thing was that I didn't try to hold her head like I had the night before, not once. It was as if, deep down, I wanted to be tortured, wanted to be forced to confess.

Lynn pulled back and held her mouth just beyond my tip, licking it.

"Did she let you fuck her, for my sake?"

I bit my lip.

"Tell me baby brother," she cooed, swirling her tongue around my head. "Tell me and I'll let you push it way in, even into my throat," her voice became appropriately husky.

"Yes, yes, yes," I cried. "She let me... fuck her."

"Good boy," Lynn purred. "That wasn't so hard, now was it. Now big sister's going to take care of you."

Her mouth dropped over my shaft to the halfway mark, then slowly forced its way down, shoving more and more of my cock into her mouth until her lips grazed my hairs. Lynn wiggled her head, squeezing her lips around my root, then withdrew, quicker than the advance but still slow. She hovered over my cock again.

"Did you fuck her every day?"

I nodded.

"Did you fuck her on the couch while Dad was upstairs sleeping?"

I nodded and Lynn smiled.

"Did you fuck her in their bed?"

Another nod.

"And yours?"

"Yes, for Christ's sake," I yelled.

Lynn dropped her mouth and descended slowly, agonizingly slowly, down to my hairs again, squeezed her lips and shook her head, then withdrew, releasing me with a loud pop and a huge groan from me.

"I already knew," she said. "Mom told me."

I was shocked.

"Mom told you?" I asked, incredulously.

"Sure," Lynn replied, as if it was no big deal. "She had to in order for my promise to make sense."

"What did you promise?"

Lynn laughed. "Not so fast mister. First, you have to do me. "

Lynn rolled off me onto her back and spread her legs wide, pulling her knees back to bare herself lewdly.

"If you do it well, I'll finish you and tell you what I promised Mom."

How could I refuse an offer like that? It was no worse than what I'd done last night, so I wasn't really breaking my promise to Mom, technically, anyway.

I rolled over and put my face between my sister's legs. She was ready. Despite her commanding control of me just seconds before, Lynn began moaning as soon as my tongue slipped between her lower lips. However, she was surprisingly resistant to coming and I had to work really hard for a long time before she flushed my face with her oil and then she made me wait another fifteen minutes while she recovered. Finally, she rolled onto her side, grasped my cock, and started talking.

"Do you really want me to finish you first, or would you like me to tell you what I promised?"

"You won't leave me hanging, will you?"

"No," Lynn purred, trying to sound very sexy, and succeeding. Of course, her fingers lightly tickling my balls didn't hurt.

"I promised Mom I would look after you," she said. The way she said it, you'd have thought it was a world saving revelation.

"She made you promise to look after me? That's it?"

"Yup, that's it," she nodded, a huge smile on her face. "I told her it was a huge sacrifice, but I promised to do it."

"I can look after myself," I said, indignantly, "despite what you and Mom think. I didn't marry a rich woman, but I can manage not to starve."

"Especially with half the estate," Lynn added.

"Even without Mom's money," I insisted.

"Well, little brother, I'm sure you can, but that's not what Mom meant."

Lynn's hand was traveling up and down the full length of my cock and my mind was returning to what Lynn had promised me, about not leaving me hanging. I didn't want to ruin it by arguing.

"Whatever," I said. "It's no big deal."

"Oh, but it is, sweet brother. Mom said you were ruined, that no other woman would be able to give you what you really need. She was heartbroken that she had done that to you."

"What do you mean, no other woman can give me what I need? Other women can fuck."

"Not like your mother. You'll never get that again and Mom said you won't ever get even close to that kind of thrill again, fucking your own mother in your father's house, unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless you could fuck your sister in her husband's house."

Lynn suddenly swung on top of me and hung her head close to mine, her thighs straddling my hips, and her pussy hovering over my cock.

"You liked what I did last night, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I hissed.

"Yes you do. You loved it, sitting there, talking to my husband while I fondled your balls and stroked your cock. I could feel the excitement surging inside you when you sent him away to get some water, could feel your power when my mouth slid over your cock. That's why I let you held my head, so you could push some of it into me, right down my slutty little throat."

"Lynn, I can't. I promised Mom," I begged.

Lynn lowered herself until her slit contacted my eager tip.

"Mom wants you to. I want you to, but you have to do it."

I shook my head. "No, I can't."

"You know it's right. What are you going to do, where are you going to go. You know you belong right here, inside me. Fuck me. Fuck me every day for the rest of our lives," Lynn hissed.

"Oh God, oh God."

"That's it. Push up, take it, take me, take us," she goaded.

I pushed into her slit, felt it's slickness give way. I squeezed my cheeks and popped inside. With an agonized wail, I thrust up hard, digging my cock forcefully into Lynn's swollen cunt. She was raining kisses all over my face, whispering, "Oh yes baby, fuck me, fuck us, we love you."

Lynn slammed her hips down and ground herself around on my root, impaling herself on my shaft, forcing it as deep as it could go. I didn't have to thrust up after that. Lynn put my hands on her tits and her mouth on mine, and then proceeded to fuck the daylights out of me. Not once did her mouth leave mine, her tongue swirling around and then sucking mine into hers.

As Lynn milked my manhood with her grasping, devouring womanhood, I massaged her breasts and sucked her nipples, then pushed my face between her breasts when my hands left to slide over her squirming, undulating body which always seemed to be in perpetual motion. Her soft yet resilient skin grew slick with sweat born of her herculean, loving effort which I struggled to match. I plied every inch of her intoxicating flesh that I could reach, especially the small of her back, the inside curvature of her waist out to her hips and over the swells of her buttocks into the crease between her cheeks and, of course, her lovely breasts. Lynn's nipples I left to my mouth. We remained joined, writhing from head to toe, until we both came in a huge, simultaneous climax. I thrust up so hard I almost unhorsed my beautiful sister but she refused to be dethroned.

I realized afterwards that I hadn't had breakfast. I was starving, but I rolled on top of her and fucked her again before leaving for the big house to have lunch. Lynn went upstairs to have a shower and I followed a little later. She was already out and dry by the time I entered her bedroom. She was kneeling beside her marital bed but she wasn't praying. She leaned over onto the bedspread when I came in and knew what she wanted. Without ceremony, I entered her from behind.

I was surprised but such arrogant possession seemed to be exactly what Lynn wanted at that moment. We didn't talk, we just fucked, silently except for moans and groans and wheezing, and one brief exchange. That happened after I picked my sister up and deposited her on the bed, pushed her forward onto her shoulders and clambered up to mount her from behind. This wasn't an issue, just a continuation of what we had been doing while she kneeled on the floor and leaned over the edge of the bed. It simply achieved better access leading to deeper penetration. The difficulty surfaced when I moved one of my hands, both of which had been holding her hips, to the center of her back and then slid it back along her spine to the top of her rump, leading with my thumb which I tried to insert into her ass as I rocked her with slow, lunging thrusts.

"No! No way!" Lynn shouted, reaching back to bat my hand away.

"Hey," I responded, a little freaked out. "Don't have a kitten. I was just fooling around."

"Well, don't," Lynn barked.

"Ok, ok. I won't."

I hadn't stopped screwing her. I quickly regained my rhythm and all was forgotten, especially after I reached under Lynn to grasp her breasts. She had magnificent tits which I had really appreciated during our morning fuck when she sat astride me. They were about the size of Mom's, maybe a little smaller, but still perky with longish nipples a little on the thick side, perfect for tweaking and sucking. They were also quite sensitive and Lynn really liked having them pinched, rolled and tugged which I did with a passion, trying to make up for my unfortunate probe of Lynn's ass.

As I kissed Lynn's back and nibbled her neck, fondled her tits, and screwed her from my hunched over stance, it struck me that it wasn't really unfortunate that she wasn't into anal sex. I had forgotten how much Mom had loved it and what a treat it was to be in her pussy. Well, Lynn was the answer to my prayers. I pushed her flat onto the bed, straddled her thighs and hooked my toes behind her knees to spread her legs, and really got going on her. When she started moaning and gasping almost constantly, I grasped her hair and gently tugged her head up and to one side so I could see her face. It was a truthful painting of her mind, pure ecstasy. I rocked into her more slowly, thrusting deeper with harder lunges. When she started her monologue, I knew she was close and removed the brakes from my own mind.

"Oh Ty, fuck me... fuck us... yeah, oh, oh, fuck us, fuck... yeah, yeah, yeah, ohhhhhhh, unghhhhh."

Lynn pulled her head forward and I let go of her hair, letting her drop her face into the mattress, where her groans were muffled beyond comprehension. It was a gentle climax, not as raucous as the two earlier ones, but it was longer with more revivals. After lying quietly on the bed, close and cuddling but not looking at each other, Lynn suddenly turned to face me.

"You can fuck me anywhere, but not there," she said matter-of-factly, then got up and went to have a shower.

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After that day, Lynn made the journey from the familial home to my cottage every school morning, usually greeted by Manuel as she passed with a smile and a brief, courteous exchange. Lynn seemed very happy. Her world was complete: two beautiful and well-balanced children, a wonderful home, a successful and loving husband, and a live-in lover, who just happened to be her brother, to make up for her partner's shortcomings in the sex department. Weekends were a respite so the sex on Monday mornings was always raucous, frequent, and fervent. As the week wore on, the sex became tamer, more languid and, comfortable.

The indiscretions, however, continued. They could happen anytime but were more likely to occur toward the end of the week. I thought they would have stopped now that we had all day throughout the week to indulge in our sexual fantasies but it didn't turn out that way.

That mistaken belief may have been born in the expectation that, having sex so often, my interest would have waned but when Lynn began dropping unmistakeably playful hints, I became instantly aroused. Typically, it would start just before or after dinner so that by the time we had some time alone, I was already hard or predisposed to quickly become so. Usually, such teasing simply resulted in a sleepless night for me anticipating my sister's arrival the following morning but sometimes she would take pity and suck my cock before banishing me to my lonely bed.

Almost always, the teasing played out in Dale's nearby presence, sometimes even in the same room. The former instances were always the more rewarding because only then could I receive a satisfying treat. On the other hand, if Dale was physically present in the same room but not looking, Lynn might stroke my leg or flash her own, but she would never do anything which had the remotest chance of revealing the true nature of our relationship. The outrageous behavior Lynn indulged in while Dale stood behind the couch that fateful night, when Lynn fondled and then sucked my cock for the first time, was never repeated.

However, Lynn loved touching my cock when Dale was working in his office and, once in a blue moon, she would even fish it out and lean over to give it a teasing kiss or two and a few quick sucks. That's just what happened one Friday night when Dale was working particularly late on an especially difficult case. It had started before dinner, when Lynn arrived downstairs sporting a new aroma, an old perfume she had uncovered in her bathroom. Did Dale remember it?

Evidently not, but it was a trick question. Poor Dale. The perfume was one I had bought her while killing a Wednesday afternoon shopping. She wore it the next day, all over, demanding I lick the scent off her perfumed body as penance for buying such an 'offensive' odor. That was a fun morning.

Later, after the kids went to bed, Lynn and I watched an old family video which always got us both very aroused. Lynn began putting her feet in my lap and rubbing my crotch with her heels, then turned her feet inward and rubbed the length of my hardness with the curved sole of her foot.

She was driving me crazy, flashing me sexy smiles and pouts, and whispering that she could hardly wait until Monday. Her timing made me think back to how things had progressed with Mom and made me wonder if she had the same penchant for adventurism within a safe environment. Let's face it, Mom had first responded and then initiated improper behavior when Dad was around, when nothing too far out of line could occur, or shouldn't have been able to happen. In a sense, Lynn was getting off on the same thing but possibly with a practical purpose. She got me worked up when she knew I had to wait a whole weekend to satisfy my urges, two empty days when I could take it upon myself to leave but wouldn't, held back by the promise of the particularly lewd sex Lynn liked to engage in on Monday mornings. Was Lynn insecure? Was she afraid that I would tire of her and go?

I didn't know but I suspected it as her motive. I wished I could think of some way to put her at ease, to let her know that I truly loved her and would never leave, not now, not after comprehending the wisdom of Mom's message that I could never be happy with any other woman in the world. I also knew that no other man could satisfy Lynn like I could. It was apparent in the simple way she tensed up beneath me, lying full length during our slow fucks, her body melding to mine, hips lifting as I withdrew to keep her pussy rubbing against my groin.

That's when I settled on a self-serving answer to my quest. I knew exactly what would convince Lynn that I would never leave: that she would give me everything I wanted, whenever I wanted it. In her mind, I reasoned, that would mean I'd never have to look anywhere else. So why was she insecure now? Because she was holding back. That was the core of my male reasoning and I set about to fix my sister's problem.

Back to the couch. Despite Dale's proximity, Lynn managed to hook her toes in the elastic waistband of my shorts and drag the front down over my swollen cock, freeing it to waver about in the dim light. I immediately snapped my eyes on Dale, working diligently to some patient's benefit in his office. Lynn actually laughed out loud at my surprise and discomfort. I couldn't believe she was behaving so dangerously and making so light of it. Before I could put myself back into my shorts, Lynn had wrapped her bare feet around my half-hard staff and started worshipping it with her colorfully painted toes and soft soles.

"Don't get your panties in a twist," she whispered. "I've covered for you before."

Her teasing laugh was annoying but her footwork was divine. In no time, my cock hardened, expanding to full height and thickness in response to Lynn's accompanying, teasingly whispered, "oohs" and "ahhhs" and "what a manly steed".

Annoying, but it made me harder too.

"If I was a woman," she whispered, "I would do anything to get that inside me. Oh, fair knight, won't you ride me tonight?" Titter, titter.

Her giggling brought her husband's attention. He looked out his door at me, smiled and waved, then turned back to his work. Lynn didn't stop rubbing her feet up and down my cock for a instant. Abruptly, she leaned forward, stretching out on the couch to lean over me.

"Put your hand on my ass and pinch me if he gets up," she whispered.

The words were barely out of her mouth when my cock replaced them. Lynn made love to my cock. She worked intensely but without hurry, licking up and down my shaft, tickling my balls one minute and squeezing them hard the next if she thought I was getting too excited. She obviously didn't want me to come, she wanted to play with me, to tease me mercilessly so I would think of her all weekend.

My hands weren't allowed to guide her head. Each time I tried to hold her head in place, she squeezed me hard until I let go. My sister was in control. I wanted to lean my head back on the couch and let go, free to moan my pleasure to let her know how good her mouth felt, but I struggled to look like I was watching the video in case Dale looked up again. Lynn clearly felt no such obligation. The only sacrifice she made was to suck me quietly unlike her sometimes noisy and sloppily wet performances. This was the best, neat suck, I had ever had.

My hand roamed all over Lynn's ass. The only risky thing I did was to pull her skirt right up so I could slip my fingers inside her panties to fondle her cheeks and tease the crack in her butt. I had been doing this for some time before I realized that Lynn hadn't rebuked me for dragging my finger up and down through her crack, something I would normally be sure to avoid. Perhaps it was Mom's presence in the video as a reminder of the many times I had loved her ass that made me so careless. I don't know but for some reason, perhaps her concentration on making me horny for the weekend, Lynn didn't notice either.

I decided to test the situation. The next time I got too excited and Lynn clamped down on my balls, I pushed the tip of my longest finger deep between her cheeks and scraped it over her tiny butt hole. Lynn flinched and squeezed her cheeks but didn't squeeze me harder or try to pull her ass away, nor did she release my cock to brush my offending finger away. Interesting.

When my excitement abated to Lynn's satisfaction, she eased the pressure on my balls and starting sucking me again. I, for my part, kept my finger in place until the third bob of my sister's head. Then, instead of removing it, I rubbed it back and forth across her anus. No reaction! No tirade! Nothing.

Encouraged, I reached farther down to dip my finger into the rear of Lynn's pussy. She was already wet. I pushed my finger in, then out, and back in a little further, again and again until it was all the way in. Lynn mumbled her appreciation around her mouthful of meat so I pushed a second finger inside. Later, I dragged my finger out and slid it through her crack, parting her supple cheeks until I reached her bunghole, and rubbed her juice over her wrinkly bud. I was surprised when, rather than a rebuke or no reaction at all, Lynn mumbled a similar sound to her appreciation upon my entry to her pussy.

I returned to her slickness but was soon back at her rear hole. This time, after a brief rub, I tentatively inserted my fingertip and pushed in to the first knuckle. Lynn's only reaction was to suck me harder. Could she really be unaware? Was she concentrating so hard she didn't know I was violating her ass, her one, single taboo? I leaned forward, as close to her bobbing head as I could without getting a black eye, and whispered, "I love you."

Lynn didn't even react to that. I glanced at Dale to make sure he was still working. I had completely forgotten about him which was very foolish. I looked down at my sister's ass and pulled her skirt up because it had fallen down over her beautiful round rump. I admired her ass. I missed Mom's and I wanted Lynn's. I sucked my finger into my mouth, coating it with as much saliva as I could, and quickly dropped it onto Lynn's cheeks, then pushed it through to her hole and straight inside.

"Ummmphhhh," Lynn moaned over her mouthful of cock.

I had plunged past the tip, right up to the second knuckle. Gently, I worked my finger in to the hilt, then held it still, satisfied with my progress and content to watch her head working over my cock and the invasive presence of my finger in her butt. Soon, I bored of being the passive observer and started applying pressure against Lynn's ass, backing off, them pushing in again. I didn't pull my finger out and pull it back in. I left it fully plugged into Lynn's ass but pressed my hand in, then eased the pressure, then applied it again, and again, and again.

I finger-fucked my sister's ass for a long time. Several times, Lynn stopped sucking and squeezed my balls hard. I guess I was getting close and wasn't even aware of it. I didn't still my own hand, I kept finger-fucking her ass without a single protest from my beautiful sister. Once, while squeezing my balls, she dropped her head on my lap under my cock and breathed long and deep, in time with my shoving finger and flicking her tongue over the top of my balls. I realized then she wasn't just tolerating me, which she may have been doing at the beginning, she was really enjoying it.

The only thing that stopped our suck and ass fest was the lurch of Dale's chair away from his desk. Lynn immediately threw herself across my lap and pretended to be sleeping and I pulled her skirt down to cover her bare, pantiless ass. Dale simply glanced at us and smiled on his way past. He returned a minute later, tall glass of water in his hand, and headed straight to his office. Upon the scrape of his chair, Lynn pulled back but before she could recapture my cock, I yanked my shorts up.

"It's getting late," I said. "I think I'll go to bed."

I leaned over, gave a surprised Lynn a quick kiss and got up, then walked quickly away.

"Wait," Lynn whispered, glancing at her husband. "Wait."

But it was too late. I turned left around the corner and started down the hallway to the kitchen.

I stopped as soon as I was out of Lynn's sight and waited. I heard her frantic footsteps scurrying across the tiles trying to catch up to me. She burst around the corner and slammed right in to me. I picked up her shocked body and physically pushed her against the wall, holding her feet right off the ground. I was prepared, my shorts already down to my knees. I lifted her knees up to my hips and searched for her slick slit with my hungry cock, quickly found it and slid in to the hilt, filling her with my meat.

"Oh God," Lynn moaned, before clamping her own hand over her mouth.

I quickly launched a series of serious lunges up her cunt, banging her against the wall, sliding her up and down until she managed to clasp her legs around my back.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard on Monday," I whispered thickly, "in every hole you've got."

I jammed my cock in hard to emphasize my point.

"Everywhere," I gasped. "Everywhere."

"Everywhere," Lynn echoed, submissively.

Then I did one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. I pulled out and set Lynn down, then quickly walked away. I looked back at my sister as I turned right into the kitchen. She had slumped to the floor, her skirt in disarray around her hips, bare legs open and askew, exposing her inflamed pussy, and her face in absolute shock. I didn't smile, I didn't gloat, I just left.

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I acted like everything was normal over the weekend but Lynn was tense and withdrawn. I felt kind of bad but I wanted to take control of our relationship, had played my cards well, and now needed to keep the pressure on. She had been teasing me to get her own way, I had just put the shoe on the other foot. The benefit would be possessing Lynn completely, including her luscious ass. Now that I had freed myself of my promise to Mom, or rather that Lynn had superseded my obligation with her own, I felt free to make the most of the situation. I found myself admiring my sister's ass on every opportunity and had to chide myself when my excitement wound up too high. The last thing I wanted to do was become too eager and thereby lose my hand.

By the end of the weekend Lynn had softened, especially after supper on Sunday but I maintained a casually aloof manner. I didn't stay long after dinner, making a tactical decision to withdraw. I had trouble getting to sleep. I kept second-guessing myself because I felt bad about treating Lynn like that. The more I thought about her, the more I felt like a cad and I wanted to rush back to the house to apologize.

Truth be known, anal sex wasn`t a big thing for me; it was Mom's predilection, so why was Imaking a big deal about it? I knew why — control. So why did I need to control her? I loved her spontaneity just as much as I loved the fact I knew her better than probably anyone else on the planet. The fact that she could still surprise me was astounding but she did so, often.

I fell asleep remembering small things, the walks we went on to pass the time of day; shopping, something I hated but had grown to enjoy with Lynn; relaxing in the yard; sitting together on a bench watching boats go by; reading; and talking about our past. I realized, as I drifted off, that I didn`t want Lynn`s ass, I wanted her. I loved her. Tomorrow, I`ll make things right, I vowed.

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The birds woke me up. I groggily lifted my head, surprised due to my sleepiness that the sun was streaming through the windows, all bright and cheerful. I shook the cobwebs out of my head and got up to relieve myself, splashed some water on my face and returned to get dressed but instead flopped down on the bed again. The trip to the bathroom hadn't lost my morning piss-hard, a point made known to me when I landed on the mattress. I groaned and turned over onto my back, allowing my manhood to rise up.

What a night. I had slept so soundly I couldn't even remember dreaming. I remembered vowing to make up for my treatment of Lynn. I looked out the door at that moment and saw my sister approaching. She seemed happy, almost dancing across the lawn. She smiled and waved to Manuel as she skipped by, speeding up as she passed him. My cock hardened. Why not become nice after the first one? A bit of ass for nostalgia's sake wouldn't hurt anyone. Lynn burst through the French doors and leapt onto the bed, shrieking in delight at the sight of my eager hardon.

"Well, I can see I'm appreciated by at least someone around here," she laughed, reaching out and grabbing me.

"You are definitely appreciated in cottageland," I confirmed.

"You didn't seem so appreciative Friday night," Lynn accused. "Or all weekend for that matter," she huffed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," I said, pulling her over on top of me.

Lynn held herself up with one hand on my shoulder while she guided my stiffy to her entrance, rubbed it through her already wet slit, and then slowly rode it down until she was sitting on me.

"Oohhh," she sighed, "I shouldn't have eaten so much for breakfast.

"Feeling a little full, are we?" I laughed.

"We are now," Lynn replied, moving up and down as she squatted over me.

I put my hands behind my head and we chatted about where we should go that afternoon. It was a very relaxed conversation which surprised me given how excited Lynn seemed when she first burst through the curtains. Even when she began moving quite quickly, the conversation proceeded at a normal pace, albeit interspersed with small gasps, pleased sighs, and brief moans. Every once in a while, Lynn would lean forward and kiss me for a minute or two before sitting back on her haunches but she never stopped moving. She was a constant, fluid, fucking machine. 

I alternated between rubbing her legs, from her hips down to her bent knees and around to her feet and back, and massaging her breasts which were particularly perky that morning. At some point, we stopped talking and concentrated on what we were doing. It wasn't much longer after that that Lynn leaned back and rode me at a gallop, head tipped back, holding on to my outstretched hands to keep herself from falling back. She was still shuddering from her orgasm when she leaned forward and stretched out full length atop me, skin to skin from head to toe. I waited until she was breathing normally before finding her rear hole and pushing the tip of my finger inside.

"You really want to do that, don't you?" she asked, her voice surprisingly normal despite the presence of my finger in her virgin ass.

"Yes." My own voice was hoarse with sudden desire.

"Is that why you left me hanging, you cruel bastard, so I'd need it so badly and let you do it?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Then you shouldn't have let me do what I just did. You've lost your leverage," Lynn laughed.

"Damn," I replied, wiggling my finger about to loosen her up.

"So you're relying on my good will to let you have a sympathy ass fuck?"

"I guess that's the plan now."

"Ok, little brother. Get behind me. I'm ready now," she husked.

Lynn pulled herself off my cock and flopped down on the bed beside me. I rolled around and she spread her legs, lifting her ass up a little.

"Wait," I said. "Don't move."

I scrambled off the bed and went to the bathroom, returning a minute later with a tube of lube I hadn't used since nailing Mom's bum. Kneeling behind her, I squeezed some between her cheeks and started working it into her butt hole with one finger. Lynn tolerated this apprehensively for a minute or two, then seemed to relax and almost enjoy it. I applied more lube and continued fingering her ass.

"Play with yourself," I whispered.

Obediently, Lynn pushed her hands underneath herself and her fingers appeared, stretching through her slit. When Lynn seemed to be getting off on her own manipulation, I leaned over her back.

"You're going to really love it. It was Mom's favorite."

Immediately, I felt like a real asshole for saying that. What woman wants to do something with you because another woman liked it? Nevertheless, I pushed a second finger into Lynn's ass, meeting some resistance. I was positive Lynn was an anal virgin and that excited me. Slowly, Lynn's ring accommodated to the extra girth.

"We like it already," Lynn cooed, moving her ass around on my fingers.

She was ready. I moved closer, bringing my tingling cock into position for the rear entry.

I guess Lynn didn't seem to mind what I'd said, probably because it was Mom and Lynn was trying to replace her for me. That thought struck me hard. Lynn was sacrificing her own identity to please Mom and me. She said 'we' or 'us' more and more, as if Lynn didn't matter anymore. It wasn't fair, to her. Suddenly, I remembered what I'd been thinking just before I fell asleep. I had to stop this, and more, I had to get Lynn to stop trying to be Mom for me.

My cock was less than an inch from Lynn's butt. I pulled my fingers out and barely stopped myself from pushing inside her when her slightly gaping hole appeared, waiting for my assault. My cock inched closer. God, her ass looks so hot, I thought.

Lynn pushed back until my tip nudged her yawning hole. I was lost, I started to push in.

"Will it hurt, Ty?"

She sounded so fragile. A lump formed in my throat and I stopped.

"It might," I admitted. "Let's not do it this way."

"No, I want you to," Lynn insisted. "We want you to fuck us," she purred, sounding sexy again. "Fuck us in the ass."

"No," I said, curtly, pulling away and falling onto my back on the bed. "I can't."

"Why?" Lynn asked, stretching across my chest. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But, then why..."

"It's not you, babe. It's 'we'."

"I don't understand."

"I don't want you to be Mom for me. I want you to be you." I forced myself up onto my elbow, pushing Lynn off, and leaned over her. "I loved Mom but I love you too, not more, differently, but just as much, and I love you as you. Can you understand that."

"I think so."

"I love you, Lynn, and I want to make love to you, just you, and I don't want you doing anything because you think Mom would have done it. Okay?"

"Okay."

I kissed her, pulled back, smiled, and kissed her again.

"I love you," I said.

"I know, you already said that."

I kissed her again, for longer.

"Will you make love to me?" Lynn asked, pushing my face away.

"That's what I had in mind," I said.

"I want you to do something else first."

"Okay," I said, starting to move lower and pushing Lynn's legs apart."

"Not that, although I wouldn't mind some of that this afternoon."

"Then what?" I asked.

"Will you fuck me in the ass?"

"Lynn."

"No really. I want to know what it's like."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"It might hurt a little, at first."

"I'm sure it will," Lynn insisted, turning onto her side and then onto her stomach, "but I can take it."

I got behind her as she lifted her ass up and opened her legs.

"No more fingers," she said.

"Okay, but I don't want to hear 'we' or 'us' anymore, just 'I'."

"It's a deal."

"Deal," I grunted, unable to keep my voice even as I pushed into my sister's innocent ass. "Oh God, Lynn. I love you," I moaned, the head of my cock spreading her virgin ring.

"Do you love my ass?" Lynn gasped.

"Yes," I admitted, "but I love you more," I groaned, pulling out and falling to the bed beside my sister.

"What's wrong," Lynn asked, her voice a mixture of disappointment, concern and relief.

"Nothing," I replied, sighing, a sigh of true peace and happiness. "I just realized that I actually do want to hear a lot about 'us', just you and me, from now on. Can we do that?"

Lynn put her arm across my chest and around my neck.

"We sure can," she said, just before she kissed me.

"I want to remember Mom, but I don't want you to be her."

"I got it, Ty. I wasn't really trying to. I just wanted to please you."

"I just wanted to be clear." I kissed Lynn's upper lip softly.

"So, do you want to make it crystal clear?" Lynn said in her playful voice.

"Absolutely," I replied.

"Then give me a baby."

"What?"

"You heard me. I want your baby."

Lynn's hand slid down my chest and her fingers curled around my cock.

"I can't do that."

"Of course you can. Just put your cock in me and come."

"It would be too confusing."

"No it won't. All Dale wants is his career and neither you nor I will be happy with anyone else. It makes perfectly good sense. If you leave, I'll chase you, and this will keep the family together and happy."

"I don't know, Lynn."

She was stroking my semi-hard dick which was already agreeing with her.

"I do," she said, fitting me between her lips and forcing me into her cunt. I gasped in pure pleasure.

"And I do want you to fuck my ass," she whispered, "but not until you've proven that this job is done. She grasped my hand and pulled it around behind her, guiding my long finger to her butt hole. "Make me pregnant," she hissed.

Three years later, Lynn put little Tyke down and patted him on his behind.

"Go see Daddy," she exclaimed.

Tyke ran across the patio, shrieking with his usual enthusiasm, straight to me. I picked him up and whirled him around. On the second time around, I realized what had just happened and looked anxiously at Dale. He was oblivious, reading an article, as usual. Lynn was laughing sheepishly, realizing her slip, and Rosita was smiling with approval.

I whirled Tyke faster for the third trip around. I was a little giddy, partly because it was Mom's birthday. Twice a year, on her birthday and at Christmas because Mom loved that time of year, Lynn and I brought Mom into our circle. We celebrated her memory by doing it the special way that she loved. It had grown on me and it certainly had on Lynn who was already lobbying for us to celebrate Mom on Easter, Halloween, and the day she passed away.

I put Tyke down and sent him on his way. Thinking about the celebration was making me conspicuous so I sat down. Lynn twisted sideways on her lounge, pointing her luscious derriere my way, which only made things worse. She cast a naughty glance over her shoulder and twitched her bottom to let me know she that knew exactly what I was thinking about, and that she was too. Oh, how I loved family life!

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