A Family's Christmas Stockings

"Maybe," Jess said. "Maybe you did infect me with whatever you were feeling, like a virus. I like it, though. I feel like we can both give each other what we need."

"What we both need is major counseling and probably a ton of pills," Chad said.

"No, what we both need is to be loved. Accepted for what we are. To feel good without feeling any shame. There's no reason we can't give each other that."

"How about we're related and it's wrong?"

"We already crossed that line last night, Chad. The question now is what we do going forward. I know what your problem is. I read all about fetishism online last night. I know you want to wear them. It's okay. I want you to have that. I want to give you that happiness. I want us to wear them together while we give each other love," Jessica said.

Chad felt dizzy. His dick was hard in his shorts, and his face felt warm. What planet had he woken up on this morning? It certainly didn't feel like the real world anymore.

Jess smiled, looking at his soccer shorts as his cock bulged through the light material. "Come on, big brother. I can tell you want to."

Before he could even think to answer, they heard footsteps approaching. Chad quickly sat at the breakfast table to hide his erect cock while Jess went back to sipping her coffee.

"Hey, guys," their father said.

"Morning, Daddy," Jess chirped. Chad grunted a greeting.

"Spill something on yourself?" Gene asked absently as he went to the espresso machine.

Jessica looked down at her cum stained T-shirt. "Yeah, when I was foaming some milk for my coffee." Her delivery was perfectly nonchalant even as her face turned red. She winked at her brother who at that moment would not have been surprised if lightning from heaven hit the house.

Gene quickly grabbed some coffee as he turned on the radio. Jess sat down next to Chad at the breakfast table. The announcer said that the governor had declared a state of emergency. The National Guard was being called up to assist as power outages swept some areas.

"With all that going on, I don't think plowing these country roads is going to be a priority for the next week," Gene said grimly.

"So we're really trapped here?" Chad asked. Beneath the table, Jess rubbed her stockinged foot against Chad's ankle.

"Don't worry. We have supplies and a backup generator, if it comes to it," Gene said. He announced that he'd already did one pass of the driveway with the Hummer's plow early this morning, and was going to do another now, trying to keep ahead of the accumulation. Their father may have been afraid of life, but he certainly wasn't afraid of hard work, as long as he could stay on the property.

"Need some help, Dad?" Chad asked, leaving Jess at the breakfast table.

Outside, the temperature hovered in the teens. The snow kept coming as the wind whipped plumes of it up off of drifts. It was slow going with the plow over their half-mile driveway, but Chad was grateful to be outside. It felt easier to forget.

An hour into it, however, he started getting Jessica's texts.

"It's nice and warm in here," the first read. "Why not come back in."

He ignored it. "You can't stay out there forever, ya know."

Watch me, he thought. It wasn't much longer after that when the pic texts begin.

"Remember these? Jesus it felt good, didn't it?" read the message, the attached picture being a pair of ruined pantyhose that had to be the ones Jess had been wearing when he had raped her.

Another pic text, this one a selfie in Jess's bedroom mirror. She'd changed from her stained T-shirt to what looked like the button down shirt he'd worn the day before, but the coffee colored hose she wore underneath remained the same. "Mmmmm, I like this look. Can smell you on your shirt, btw."

His erection was becoming painful in his jeans. All the more so because he was sitting next to his father in the Hummer.

Another one, this time with her picking up the front of the shirt. The hose were sheer-to-waist. "You know you'd like to tear through these pantyhose too."

The next was a selfie of her pantyhosed ass. "You got me from the front last time. This is what you'd see tagging me from behind."

He knew he should throw the phone into the snow, or at least turn it off, but the photos... they looked so good.

Yet another, this one of a pair of black pantyhose laying on her bed. "I have a pair that will fit you. Cum on in and try them on."

"Who's blowing up your phone?" his dad asked, taking to plowing as he had to his driving games.

"It's Jessica. Something about her having some trouble jumping on WiFi and wanting me to talk her through it," he lied.

"Well, go on back to the house and give her a hand," Gene said, enough empathy in his voice it sounded like he considered an absence of internet access to be as serious as a heart condition.

He walked back to the house in the snow, the area they'd plowed already covered again. Its lights burned warmly against the absolute white that surrounded him. It was so welcoming. His phone vibrated again in his jeans with another of Jessica's messages.

No picture this time. "Wish you would write me back. We could be so warm in here together." Another followed: "Could be so happy together too."

Inside the house, he could see his mother doing her laps routine in the pool. At the top of the stairs, he found himself turning towards Jessica's room instead of his own. He was trapped here. And he was tired of fighting. All he wanted was to feel good for once. Feel accepted and comfortable with himself.

He didn't knock on the door, just opened it, then kicked it shut behind him. She was sitting on the bed with her phone about to text him another message. She looked up startled, as though she thought he might be angry at her, even hit her.

He walked over to her quickly, and kissed her hard on the mouth.

Jessica tossed her phone aside, wrapped her arms him. He pressed her down on the bed, and it amazed her how right it felt. His hands reached for her pussy. It was already slick through her hose. She'd been thinking about it. "Oh my God, I'm so fucking turned on right now."

He pressed the material against her opening so it became even more moist as she bucked against him. "I am too, little sister."

"Do you want to fuck your kid sister?"

"More than anything."

"Okay, but first you have to put on your pantyhose. I want us to match."

She watched her brother strip, then pick up the black hose she had laid out for him.

"Excited?"

"Was my erect dick a dead giveaway? It'd be my first time wearing them. It feels... like I've been waiting for this so long."

"You're overdue then."

She watched as her brother put on the pantyhose, watched as his nude form's lower half was suddenly encased in the dark material. She could see his cock through the hose he now wore, see it straining to get free already. Straining to enter her, she realized.

He stood up before her. "What do you think?"

"I think you're everything I ever wanted in a man."

Jessica reached out and stroked his dick through the nylon. "Oh fuck," he breathed as she felt his cock, heavy and warm, in her hand. His precum glistened through the hose.

"I can't believe how much I want this in me right now, Chad. How much I want my big brother's dick."

He pressed her down, their hosed legs intertwining. "We're trapped here, sis. Snowed in."

"Will you keep me warm this week?"

"Yes," Chad said, reaching down for her pussy. Instead of a cotton panel at the crotch, these only had a simple, center seam. With a single finger, he pressed into Jessica's pussy, then tore the seam neatly. "Will you give me this pussy whenever I need it?"

"Yes," she whispered. "You can fuck your baby sis's pussy whenever you want. It's what I'm here for."

"Turn around."

She did as he asked, raising her ass to receive his cock. He pulled down his pantyhose's waistband, freeing his dick. His cock's head pressed into her, and for the second time in twelve hours, he was fucking his sister.

She turned around so that she could see the look on his face. "Do you like it, Chad? Fucking baby sister?"

"Christ yes," he said.

"We need sex, the both of us. We should give it to each other. That's what families do, right? Help each other?"

"Yes," Chad said again, almost mindlessly. The slick tightness of his pussy combined with wearing hose for the first time made him feel as though he might cum at any second. He wanted to pace himself accordingly, but Jess wasn't having it. She jammed herself against him in quick succession.

Chad slapped her pantyhosed ass at that. The pain heightened her own pleasure, subsumed her even more into the role of her brother's slut. She ran with it: "Girls my age just want to fuck."

"Yes," Chad said mindlessly.

"We love getting our pussies filled. But if we're not careful, we'll fuck guys that don't love us. Isn't that terrible?"

"Terrible," he groaned, holding onto her nylon covered hips for dear life.

"So it's also a big brother's job to give baby sister's sex so she doesn't go slutting around."

"Yes," Chad agreed mindlessly. "You should only slut for someone that loves you."

"And you love me, don't you, Chad? Love your baby sister?

"I love you, baby sister."

"But it's not just me that needs to cum. Big brothers need to cum too." The filth spilling from her mouth surprised her. She and the other boys she'd fucked had barely spoken during sex. But by breaking so profound a taboo, some other part of herself she never knew was there had also broken free. It was predatory, unsatisfied by ordinary sex, reveled in whatever could be perverted, and was willing to do whatever it took to get these new yearning met.

Chad was being infected with something similar. "They need to cum even more than their sisters, college boys being so horny," he said, pounding her even harder.

"That's right," Jessica groaned. "And whenever my big brother needs pantyhose sex, he needs to come to me. Whenever you just want to wear them and be jerked off, you come to me. You want your cock sucked through them, you come to me. Do you understand, brother? Only me."

His dick throbbing inside her, Jessica was the center of his universe. "I understand. This is the only pussy I want."

"Don't pull out this time, Chad. Shoot your cum into my pussy. Every single fucking drop."

He gripped her nyloned ass hard. "Can't get baby sister pregnant." He almost came at every word he grunted.

Something inside her stirred at the thought of her brother fucking her pregnant. "Stop thinking, just let it go! All of it, all your seed, just fucking empty it into my pussy, Chad."

"Oh fuck, I can't hold it anymore!"

She was shouting now, so in the moment she didn't even think to be quiet. "Don't hold it, baby! Your sister wants all of it! Every drop you've got in that babymaker of yours - give it to me!"

He cursed, gripping her hips and jamming himself deep as he could inside her pussy, pouring all his cum into her womb. The sensation made Jessica buck even harder against her brother's spurting cock, and she came as the raging jet of his seed pumped into her. At the moment of her orgasm, she insanely thought about how she wished they had more siblings.

As her climax detonated from her pussy and rolled in a wave over the rest of her body, she felt the wonderful warmness of her brother's cum inside her. It made her feel complete. She knew she wanted to feel this warmth again and again. She was about to tell him after he pulled out and they lay together, whispering in their hose.

But then their father walked in.

***

Gene Holloway sat in his media room. The start screen for one of his shooter games was on the screen, its dramatic, military intro music rumbling through the room's speakers. But for once in what seemed like forever, he couldn't concentrate on the game, couldn't even get himself to press "start". Sipping at a rock glass of Johnny Walker Blue, what he had seen that morning had been burned into his memory, and it kept replaying in his mind again and again.

He'd sent Chad back in to deal with the supposed Wi-Fi problem, he'd managed to get the Hummer stuck in a snow bank. When Chad hadn't responded to his texts, Gene had walked back to the house to get him.

Passing his wife as she was getting out of the pool, she'd seemed impressed that he was doing something active in the real world.

"Helluva storm. I think it's getting worse. I'm going to go get Chad--need him to help me push the Hummer free. Have you seen him?" he'd asked.

"I think he went upstairs."

Jessica's room was at the crest of the stairs, and as he came onto the second floor, he'd heard some commotion in her room. It sounded like she was in pain.

It had happened so quickly, he hadn't been thinking to even knock--all he could imagine was that she'd managed to cut herself badly with a broken perfume bottle or maybe slip on her bathroom's tile floor. Things that would have been bad but manageable in ordinary weather when a medic could get here quick enough, but would have been life-ending now because the storm had cut them off.

Opening the door, he'd seen everything. His son was still inside his daughter. He'd been fucking her from behind. Their bodies were covered in sweat. The room reeked of sex. And they'd both been wearing pantyhose, and nothing else. In a way, that was the most unreal thing, a perverse detail that his mind kept latching onto.

They'd looked at him as he had rushed in in stunned, horrified silence. The shocked looks on their faces must have mirrored his own.

He hadn't said anything. What the hell could he have said? Nothing in all his years of being a parent had prepared him for this. Like the programs he'd once created, he lived his life assuming that reality ran within certain parameters. What he'd seen--his son and daughter having incestuous, fetishistic sex--was so far outside those parameters he could barely wrap his mind around it.

Gene had backed away slowly as though he'd accidently come across a murder scene, and closed the door behind him. He walked blankly downstairs, passing his wife as she finished toweling herself off by the pool.

"Oh, did you find Chad?" she'd asked.

"Yes," he'd said robotically.

"Are you guys going to be able to dig out the Hummer?"

"No. I just need to think."

She'd looked at him, wondering why he was acting so strangely. "What's wrong, Gene?"

"Nothing. Just need to think."

For a moment, she'd thought he was going to head to his all too infrequently used study, and she wondered if this was the moment when he would break out of his funk, create something amazing again. Perhaps that's what he'd meant by needing to think.

But instead, he'd turned down the stairs to the basement media room, and she'd felt her blood boil.

In the hours since, though, he hadn't played. He just kept turning the image of his children fucking in their pantyhose.

What had made them do it? He honestly wished he understood. He wondered how long it had been going on. And even though he felt disgusted, he couldn't deny the scene's power.

Their bodies were both young and firm and beautiful. Both had taken pride in their appearance growing up. Along with exercise, good genes had made that easy for them.

But it had to be more than just their bodies. He'd seen them both swimming in the pool before. And he could find attractive people to watch fuck online whenever he wanted.

No--it was the wrongness of what he'd seen that was so compelling. It had been wrong on so many levels. And it made him feel more alive than he had in the decade he'd been hiding here in the house.

Part of it was the pantyhose. What the fuck was it about them? His wife and daughter wore them a lot, and while he liked the look of nice legs as much as any straight male, he'd never looked at nylon-specific porn.

Maybe it just added more wrongness. His daughter wearing them... and his son. It sickened him thinking about it. It sickened him too that it made him hard replaying it in his mind's eye while he sipped his scotch.

It was late afternoon now. He'd never bothered going back out for the Hummer, and by now with the amount of snow that had fallen since the morning, there was probably no point even trying now. But he had left the media room once today. To go to his daughter's room.

He had watched them on the internal cameras off-and-on during the day, studying their interactions, saw them sitting in the living room by the fire. They had dressed, although Jess was still in a skirt, still wearing coffee colored hose. Gene wondered if they were the same ones that her brother had fucked her in. He wondered if he was wearing his under his jeans and socks.

They had been holding one another. They looked sad or fearful. It hurt him seeing them like that.

He would have expected though if they had been truly ashamed they would have hidden not just from their father, but from each other. Instead, they held each other. From time to time, Jess would kiss him tenderly on the neck, and Chad would rub her pantyhose clad legs.

While they had been in the living room, Gene had found himself taking the back staircase up to the second floor, found himself going into his daughter's room, found himself going through her drawers until he found where she kept her stockings. It felt like another person was doing all these things, including pulling out a black pair similar to the ones that his son had been wearing, and then slipping back down to the media room. He could always blame it on the scotch.

He downed the rest of his drink, then held the hose noticing how his hands looked transformed beneath the semi-opaque material.

His daughter was almost as tall as he was. Gene was a trim guy. They'd probably fit him, he realized. And then... his dick could be held tightly in the material. Right where the hose had previously been rubbing against his daughter's pussy.

The scotch made him feel warm, reckless. The door was closed, but there wasn't a lock on it. Oh well--it wasn't like his kids had standing to say jack shit to him about being perverted. And he had a feeling Rachael probably wouldn't waste her time coming down here--yesterday's confrontation had been an aberration set off by the kid's impending arrival. As long it was nothing about the kids, he was safe down here.

He took off his pants, feeling vaguely ridiculous but the alcohol helped quiet his ego.

They were a little tight on him, but that only seemed to heighten the sensation. They hugged his balls and his ass. He felt bizarrely sexy. Gene could understand now why his son would be turned on wearing them.

His dick was hard in them. He began to stroke it, imaging the scene of his kids fucking. His cock became all the harder as he imagined himself in the scene. Precum was beginning to stain the material. It shimmered even in the media room's subdued lighting. He moaned.

He barely noticed it through his half-opened eyes, but his wife had come into the living room, was now talking to Jess and Chad. Rachael's legs looked nice and tan in the hi-def image in the screen's corner. Wearing suntan pantyhose, no doubt. His own experiment in paraphilia making him more noticing of these things.

She looked agitated in the video feed, but before he could cut on the sound, she was already leaving the room. His pantyhosed dick in his hands, he didn't have time to switch the view to see where she was going, but he figured it out when he heard the upstairs door open.

"Gene, do you know what's wrong with the kids? They're acting as if someone killed their puppy or something."

Terrific. Pointless trying to hide--no time. And three glasses of scotch in, having seen his children fuck, and being cut off from civilization in a monster blizzard, he didn't really give a damn if she saw him.