The Sick Day

His head groggy, eyes feeling like they'd been glued together, George Foley eased from the welcome warmth of the bed, groping blindly for the phone. His brain a mess, the autopilot of rational thought reminded George to inform his boss that he was too sick to come in to work. Chin jutting, face feeling sorry for itself, a clammy hand reached for the receiver. Damn. The hollow, lofty sound, like the inside of a church, could mean only one thing: one of the kids was already using the downstairs extension. George growled beneath his furry breath.

He looked back longingly at the inviting bed, yet something stopped him from crawling back beneath the covers. Habitually the first to rise and depart, long before either Josh or Lucy had even risen from their pits, his presence in the house would undoubtedly come as a complete surprise.

On holiday again – of course – breathlessly, Lucy, his 18-year-old stepdaughter, addressed the phone: "Sorry about that, Tammy...the postman...now where was I?"

"Oh honey...Josh!" reminded Tammy, Lucy's best friend of the past decade.

"Oh yeah...Josh." Lucy's tone seemed to uplift.

Upstairs in his bedroom, the words registered on his addled brain, causing George to swallow hard, bringing a dry pain. He detested himself for listening in to his stepdaughter's private conversation, yet at the same time he was scared to put the phone down and risk being caught. Rivulets of sweat snaked their way down his fevered brow.

"You really, really, REALLY must promise not to tell this to anyone else," continued Lucy. "Promise, Tammy?"

"I promise," assured her friend. "I PROMISE. Okay?"

Lucy paused, as above her father held his breath simultaneously. The front of his pyjama bottoms were already bulging in anticipation. It was odd, but inevitably he was at his most horny when under the weather. There had to be a direct correlation in men between sickness and sexual arousal. And right now his cock was upright like a gearstick, poking through the fly-hole and pressing hard into his navel. Again he swallowed, sighing at the gravel-laden feeling in his throat.

"Well?" prompted Tammy.

"Um...I, um, I caught Josh yesterday..."

"You caught him? Caught him doing what?"

"You know...in his bedroom...playing."

"Playing...playing what?"

"Tammy, he was playing with his thingy."

Tammy gasped and spluttered, as did George, his outpour suppressed beneath a huge palm. He wasn't sure he could listen to this, yet his cock was throbbing like it had been stung by a bee. They were brother and sister, he had to remind himself, yet it did nothing to abate his huge erection.

* * *

George Foley had not been blessed with the kindest luck in his time on earth, having lost two young wives before the age of 25. His marriage to high school sweetheart Ann had been cruelly ended by a boating accident in the Algarve, though the one consolation was that she had borne him a handsome son, Josh. And whilst it had been hard coping, forced into a corner George had managed admirably in raising a child on his own.

That was until, by some welcome change of luck, two years later he met Sarah. A fellow single parent, their friendship blossomed from pushing their respective toddlers in buggies to nursery school. Sarah's daughter Lucy was a month or two younger than Josh, a little cutie with flyaway blonde locks tethered beneath a red bonnet.

Morning coffees led to romance and soon Sarah and Lucy were welcomed into the family. But then, just when it seemed George's life was rosy once more, along came the fateful bout of pneumonia that tragically ended Sarah's young life and made George a widower again. With no other family to speak of, Lucy was adopted and raised her as George's own. In fact, she and Josh were more like brother and sister than most real brothers and sisters.

For over a decade now, George had forsaken his own pleasure to ensure his two children had the best of everything. Now, 18 going on 19 he couldn't wish for two better kids.

In fact, two apparent innocents, George was shocked with what he heard. Both had had the odd boyfriend or girlfriend, yet he was as sure as a father could be that both remained virgins.

Lips pursing, George's attention drifted back to the eavesdropped conversation.

* * *

"So what did it look like?" enquired Tammy.

"It was huge," responded Lucy, "far, far bigger than Steven's," she giggled.

George's face clouded. Maybe he was wrong after all. That was the last time Lucy's so-called boy-friend would be allowed over at nights. Studying indeed!

"Yeah, but you and Steven never..."

"Oh gosh, no," spluttered Lucy. "I saw him in the shower once, that's all."

George gave a silent sigh of relief. He hated to admit it, but his feelings towards his stepdaughter had changed somewhat over the past year, somewhat alarmingly if the truth be known. In the past, his mates had ribbed him about having a 'ready made piece of tail', to which he'd gotten very angry and threatening. He didn't see her in that way at all, he protested. That was until the holiday in Greece.

George found himself reaching inside the drawer. Most of the women on the beach in Rhodes were going topless and some were even completely naked. George objected vociferously, but Lucy was her own person, arguing what shame was there in exhibiting her body? It was the first time George had ever seen his stepdaughter fully unclothed. Even as a young child she'd been independent during bath time.

As Lucy dozed on the beach and Josh headed off for a swim, George glanced around shiftily. Gratefully, no one was paying them the slightest attention – even to Lucy, her slender and firm young body stretched out on the towel. Hastily George took two snapshots of his stepdaughter, ones that wouldn't appear later in the family album.

That night, as the two teenagers trawled the island's bars, George remained in the hotel, guiltily pleasuring himself over the two stolen pictures. Afterwards he sat, head-in-hands in the toilet, weeping gently.

But when a drunken Lucy arrived back late that night, a reinvigorated George undressed and helped her into bed, savouring her innocent nakedness. The kiss goodnight was deep, deeper than a father's tongue should venture, their two tongues clashing. He agonised as she pressed her young body into his and he squeezed an arse cheek. Yet Lucy would forget by morning, remained sober and dressed the remainder of the holiday, besides which George had fought the feelings strenuously since.

Until now, when once more he removed the two photographs from the drawer, running his eyes over Lucy's naked body in the picture, her firm, partly-tanned breasts standing proudly on her chest, the wisp of straw coloured hair between her legs. At the same time he listened to her voice on the phone.

"So what did you do, just watch?" enquired Tammy.

Lucy paused, before replying: "Um, for a short while, yeah. I was getting these really, really strange feelings in my...you know, down there. I just couldn't help myself, seeing him there, doing that. Running his fist up and down that thick shaft of his got me sooooooo hot. I just had to..."

Lucy paused, and Tammy begged her to continue.

"I just couldn't help but play with myself too, in the doorway."

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Tammy. "Oh my God, Lucy...what then?"

Lucy coughed. "And then...oh gosh Tammy...and then he looked up, straight at me."

"Nooooooo!"

"He looked really mad at first. I thought he was going to shout. I was really scared. But then he smiled...when he saw where my hand was. He gestured me over to the bed, and something made me go. I didn't want to but I was just...powerless. He took my hand and placed it around his cock. Oh Tammy, it was even bigger close up. My fingers hardly fitted around. Then he asked me to...you know...so I did. I started to stroke it up and down. He was moaning really heavily. I kept pumping it harder and harder till he cried out. Then...then he came, a really massive spurt, all over his belly. I was so embarrassed. I just dashed off to my room."

The normally talkative Tammy was dumbstruck. "Wow, Lucy!" she exclaimed eventually, "I can't believe you...and with your own brother too!"

"STEPbrother," Lucy corrected, sheepishly. "But yes I know. It's wrong, isn't it?"

Again Tammy was speechless, before Lucy added: "But that wasn't all..."

George blew hard, palm flat against the mouthpiece, almost subconsciously, his other hand working up and down his cock. His throat ached and his fevered brow cascaded with sweat. Despite the guilt-ridden pleasure, it was impossible not to wish he were Josh. How he envied his son.

"Oh gosh, do go on," prompted Tammy.

"Go on," George heard himself whisper.

Lucy took a deep breath. "An hour later he came to my room to apologise. You can imagine how embarrassed we both were, how we were saying it must never happen again. And we both meant it too. Then, almost without realising, Josh's hand was on my thigh, stroking so lovingly. It felt so good, so right. I just didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. I couldn't have found the words. Then he whispered that it was only fair that he returned the favour."

"Oh my, no way!" gushed Tammy.

"A-ha," assured Lucy. "It was like I was paralysed, Tammy, I couldn't have moved if I'd wanted to. He yanked down my shorts and started by stroking my lower belly, ever so softly. He felt incredible. His fingers stroked my pussy, teasing me like crazy till I begged him to put them inside me. It was amazing, a hundred, no a thousand times better than doing it myself. He has amazing hands, just like dad..."

George's ears pricked up and he sighed as Lucy spoke the words. In his mind he was fingering Lucy, watching as her eyes closed and ripples of pleasure coursed her naked body. "Amazing hands, just like dad..." The words reverberated in his brain.

"It was like Josh knew exactly what he was doing, precisely where to touch me. I was so wet his fingers just squelched inside me. They slid right over my clittie and I think I must have passed out. When I came round he was still rubbing. He whispered how much he loved me and I just came and came and came..."

"Oh wow, Lucy, wowwwwwwww."

George echoed the sentiment. Hand working busily, a huge ejaculation flung from the eye of his cock, coating the photograph of his beautiful, naked stepdaughter.

Suddenly there was silence. George dared not breathe. Then the front door opened with a scrape.

"Oh jeez Tammy, the door, I think...oh God, I think it's Josh. I gotta go."

George heard the receiver slam, tiptoeing to the bedroom door. The pair stood face-to-face in the hall. "Hi Josh," George heard Lucy say as he opened the bedroom door a crack, spying as his son buried his face in hers.

They embraced long and hard. "No, not here," she protested, pulling away.

Taking his hand Lucy led her stepbrother up the stairs, straight past George's door. Clothes were scattered up the landing. In their haste, the door to Josh's room remained ajar. Still in his pyjamas, George tiptoed out onto the landing, his heart racing.

*

Keep an eye out for a possible follow-up to this story and please feel free to add your comments and suggestions.