The Watching Game Ch. 02

"Apparently. That's what she told me - at least, that's my interpretation of the conversation."

"Why would she tell you that?"

Amie sighed. "It was months after they'd gone, Jack. She told me because she was racked with guilt at what she had done to them. Because she was lonely and a bit drunk, and she knew that I knew what had been happening, and because I was the only one in the whole world she could tell."

I stood for a few moments, thinking. Jesus! Mum was a voyeur too - and on her own kids. Getting pleasure from watching them fuck each other. If Amie had told me black was white I'd have believed her - but not that.

"I can't believe it, Amie. Not Mum -"

She gripped my hand. "Why the hell not, Jack! A week ago would you have believed that you'd fuck me?"

"No, but -"

"So stop being judgmental. Donna and Jim crossed a line, and so have you and I. Why shouldn't she? Mum's got needs and urges just like any of us. Why not that one?"

"Did she join in?"

"How the hell would I know!" she answered angrily.

"You used to watch as well. Did you ever see her join in?"

"No."

"Did you watch together?"

"Christ! No - we didn't, Jack. Did you think it was like a squash court or something, with a viewing gallery -"

"No, but I'm trying to figure out if you worked together at this." A thought struck me. "Does she know about us?"

"What are you saying, Jack? That I set this up? That you and I screwed for her enjoyment?" She stared at me for a moment, seeing the doubt and suspicion in my eyes. She released my hand and stood back, her face white with anger. "Well, fuck you!"

"Amie -"

"No! I knew I shouldn't have told you. I should have guessed at your reaction, Jack. Well - get this in your thick head, if you can. No, I didn't set it up. No, Mum didn't watch us and yes, I did it because I love you...or I did, you bigoted prick!" She stared at me for a moment or two and then spun on her heel and stomped up the track towards the house, her back stiff with anger.

I stood and watched her go, my mind in a turmoil. I felt as if I'd just been run over by a truck...standing in the open road with a clear view of the way ahead one minute and smashed in the gutter the next... with everything I knew about my family scattered like broken garbage around me. I stood for a few minutes trying to get my thoughts in order, but I needed time to think so I turned back and headed to the little office in the stables.

I sat on the cot in the corner and tried to collect my thoughts. The only illumination in the room came from the little window in the opposite corner - a hard, diffused light distorted by the streaks of dirt and dust on the glass panes so the room was cast in a sort of dappled radiance that accentuated shadows, like an old photograph. A scrap of material was lying on the floor at my feet and I picked it up: Amie's panties. I remembered how she had stripped them off and used them to clean herself up before we left the room, and I pressed them to my face to breathe in the scent of her body juxtaposed with the pungent smell of my semen. Her and me: our most intimate odours mingled together in the fine weave of the material, just as we were now interwoven in life.

And so I sat in that little room, trying to make sense of what I'd learned and what it meant. Amie and me...so much more than just a quick fuck - and following in the footsteps of our siblings. I imagined Donna lying on this very bed with her legs around her brother and her pussy full of his cock...did it change anything? And what about Mum, hiding in the shadows...touching herself as she watched her children fucking? Dad had been long dead by then, and she was alone. Was voyeurism the extent of her sex life or had she actually joined in? And what did that mean to me - and to my relationship with Amie? What would the price of staying together be - to allow her to watch us? To let her to join in?

The questions piled up up in my brain like autumn leaves against a fence and there were no answers. And so after a while I stood up and clambered down the stairs, heading back towards the house. Just about the only thing I was sure of was that I loved Amie - but I didn't yet know the cost of keeping that love alive, or whether the price would be too high.

*****

Dinner was a dismal affair. Amie was disengaged and Mum was trying too hard to be cheerful. I tried my best to engage both of them, but images of each kept appearing in my mind: Amie in wild orgasm as I fucked her, and Mum crouching in the shadows with bright eyes, watching us. She looked so innocent - was she really into watching her kids? I realised that I knew nothing of her private life...why would I?

Amie excused herself after the meal and I did the washing up with Mum. As soon as we were alone she turned to me.

"Is everything all right between you and your sister?" she asked.

I smiled. "A brother and sister tiff, Mum. We'll be OK in the morning."

She nodded absently, her hands busy in the sink. "I'd hate for you not to get on, Jack. It's important to me that you like each other."

"We'll be fine."

She sighed. "You seemed to be doing so well - last night, and down at the stables this morning."

I wondered if she knew just how well we'd got on, but I let it pass. "Why don't you ask Donna to stay for a while, Mum?" I asked gently. "Just for a week or two. I know you don't see eye to eye but isn't it time to bury the hatchet? And Jim?"

"I've no idea where Jim is," she said. "And Donna - well...maybe one day."

"No. Tomorrow. Ring her in the morning. Use me as an excuse to invite her down."

She smiled. "It's not that simple, Jack...she'd refuse, and I don't want to handle another rejection."

"Won't she even visit to see me?"

"I doubt it - her husband's forbidden her to bring the baby, for one thing -"

I stared at her. "Baby? What baby?"

"Didn't you know?" she smiled. "You have a little nephew...he's two years old."

"Jesus, Mum! Wasn't anybody going to tell me?"

"You had your own life, Jack, in another country - and Donna's cut herself off from the family. She doesn't want anything to do with us."

"Why?"

"You'll have to ask her, son."

"I'm asking you."

She smiled sadly. "And I can't answer. You must speak to her, Jack." She pulled the plug out of the sink and stripped off her gloves. "By all means ring her tomorrow and invite her down - but don't be surprised if she doesn't want to talk to you. Now...can I get you a coffee?"

"No thanks, Mum. I think I'll just go up to my room and read."

She smiled. "Right. Don't forget to make up with Amie."

"I will."

"And in the morning I'd like you to move to the end bedroom in the new wing. It's a much nicer room, and I've been thinking of redecorating yours anyway."

"No problem. Good night Mum."

She leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. "Good night, son."

*

Amie had gone off to do her chores by the time I was up, so I used the morning to prepare my old bedroom for painting and to move my stuff into the new one. Mum was right - the new room was much nicer. It was down the corridor from Amie and shared a little ensuite bathroom. It also had full length wall-to-wall mirrors on the wardrobes to one side of the room, and a bigger bed.

Amie came in for lunch dressed in her working gear. "I hear we are to be neighbours," she said.

"Pardon?"

"Your new room - next to mine," she explained. I was relieved to see her smile.

"Oh - yes. Mum wants to decorate the old one."

"She said that when she moved Donna into it three years ago. Still - it will be nice to have you close."

I touched her hand. "I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. I -"

"Forget it, Jack. I should have found another way to tell you that wasn't so confronting." She smiled and gripped my fingers. Would you like to go out for dinner tonight?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Sure. There's a nice little bistro in the village. Only if you want, though."

"I'd crawl there over broken glass to be with you."

She smiled. "Then that's a date....and could you help me this arvo?"

"Sure. What are we doing?"

"We're getting a new horse next week. I need to empty the tack room and make a new stable."

It was evident that the tack room hadn't been touched in years and had been used as a general storeroom for just about everything: old mowers, broken tools and the general bric-a-brac that collects over time. We spent the afternoon going through the piles of stuff and sorting it - rubbish to the skip behind the barn and the other items to the upstairs level. I resolved not to talk about any of the family issues, so we chatted about the farm and her university studies, and I told her more of what I had done in the States. The afternoon passed in a flash and by early evening it was done.

She stood back and scrutinized the work with a keen eye. "This is great, Jack. I never thought we'd get it done today."

"Just the hinges on the gate to fix. I'll do that tomorrow."

"Thank you." There was a smear of dirt down one cheek and a few strands of hair had escaped from her pony-tail, giving her a slightly disheveled look. She looked young and incredibly beautiful.

"Do I get a reward?" I rolled my eyes upwards, towards the office with its little bed.

She shook her head. "Later. I smell like a horse, and I've got dust in places where it shouldn't be."

"I'm really good at dusting."

She laughed. "I bet. I can just see you in a pinafore with a feather duster...or did you have some other implement in mind?"

"How much dust are we talking about?"

"Lots," she said. "In every orifice."

"Not a problem," I said.

*

The bistro was next to the village store, really not much more than a single room of a terraced house but the proprietor had done it out well and it was BYO, which kept the cost down. We sat in the table in the front window, and Amie told me about some of the other people in the room.

"That's Mrs Treleven, the post mistress," she said. "In the blue dress, near the door? She's the village gossip - she knows everything about everyone, and what she doesn't know she'll find out." She smiled and waved at the florid faced woman who regarded her with distaste. "When she finds out you're my brother she'll tell everyone, so we'd better behave. No holding hands or gazing into each other's eyes."

"So I suppose a fuck on the table is out?"

Amie smiled "Probably a little bit of a giveaway."

"French kissing?"

"Nope."

I reached under the table and touched her thigh. "How about a little grope, then?"

"That's just fine, Jack, until I have an orgasm about the time main course arrives. That might be a giveaway too."

"I'm getting the impression you don't like the village much."

She shrugged. "It's a small community, Jack, and I've chosen not to become too involved. That makes me a stuck-up outsider in their view." She smiled. "If there's any gossip to be had they'll put a negative spin on it, that's for sure."

"So how do you know them all?" I asked.

Amie shrugged. "I occasionally go into the shops and the pub. They're always here. Most would never have left the village in their whole lives." She turned her eyes on me and changed the subject. "Did you speak to Mum last night?"

"I did. She was very concerned that you and I should get on."

"I bet. That's part of the reason she's given you the room next to me."

"And the other part?"

"She wants to paint your old room." She smiled. "What else could it be?"

"She can see both our rooms from hers. Maybe she's keeping an eye on our sleeping habits."

"Don't get paranoid, Jack. That's what curtains are for."

I opened my mouth to answer, but thought better of it. I'd decided that afternoon that the only way to deal with the situation was to roll with it, and see what happened. There wasn't anything more to say at this point, and I didn't want to upset Amie again.

"Mum also told me that Donna had a baby."

She picked up her wine and twirled the glass, watching the amber liquid sparkle in the candlelight. "So I hear."

"Whose is it?"

She smiled. "Her husband's, of course."

"But the dates suggest otherwise. It could be Jim's."

Amie set the glass on the table. "Yes it could, Jack. It could also belong to any one of a dozen guys in the village - but there's no point in speculating." Her tone made it clear that she didn't want to talk about it, but I could see she knew more than she was letting on.

There were so many secrets in this family...like layers of paint on an old table, each hiding the crude brushstrokes of the one below. I wondered if one day somebody would research who had been up whom in the Harrison family: how Jim and Donna had become lovers, and Jack and Amie too; and how their mother loved to watch their children as they fornicated. We'd be judged harshly, no doubt - but they wouldn't ever have known Amie, with her mysterious golden eyes and smoldering sensuality. She was gazing at me and I could almost feel the sexual energy radiating from her, oozing from her skin like an aphrodisiac, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. I realised that I could no more resist her than I could stop breathing, and no price was too high to take what she offered.

The meal was hardly cordon bleu, but it was good and wholesome and afterwards we walked back along the same bridle path that had led me to Amie's bed. Was it only four days ago? There was no certainty then: I had wondered what might be in store for me on that night, but tonight was very different. Her arm was tucked under mine and even though we had already fucked twice there was that breathless excitement about us - knowing we were about to do it again...that nothing short of Armageddon would stop us from joining our bodies together. And this time it was pre-meditated - a deliberate act to seal our union and join together as lovers rather than simply to rut. After tonight we would never be able to pretend that we'd just got carried away in the heat of the moment.

Mum had turned down the sheets on my bed and left a bedside light on, and for a few moments we held each other, both aware of the consequences of what we were about to do. Her head was cradled into my shoulder and her face was pressed against my jacket. I could smell the crisp freshness of her hair and feel the warmth of her body through my clothes. My cock was already hard - just the knowledge of what was about to happen was enough. She felt it pressing against her belly and looked up at me, her eyes shining in the dim light.

"Is that for me?" she asked softly.

"You bet."

"Then I'll take it," she said simply. She broke from my embrace and dropped to her knees, her hands deftly unzipping me and drawing me out. My cock was as hard as it had ever been, the turgid flesh pulsing in her hand and the helmet fully exposed, a gleam of moisture at its eye. She bent her head to it, gently rubbing her lips over the tight purple flesh, her fingers small against the swollen shaft. She had positioned me carefully so she could see herself in the mirror: watching the image of the young girl crouching before her older brother, subjugating herself to his desires - his cock in her hand and her mouth touching it, drawing out a silver strand to string between them. Her lips were dry and she rubbed the bulbous head over the soft pink flesh, smearing his juices so they gleamed in the soft light, and she slipped his cockhead between them and took him in her mouth.

I tried to be still but the sensation was just too good so I held her head and began to thrust into her, watching her mouth stretch around me, watching the gleam of her spit on the shaft as I slid in and out. I remembered her story of Jim fucking Donna's face and how he jammed it deep in her throat and came, spurting gouts of his cum so deeply in her neck that she almost choked. Perhaps I would try that one day, but for now I wanted her lips and tongue on the head of my cock: her lips to nuzzle and tease it, gripping one moment and soft and loose the next - and her tongue to flicker over the purple flesh to tease the rim. My cock was pulsing, each twitch delivering a trickle of my juice to her mouth, eel-slippery as it oozed down her throat. God, it was good! She was working me, her eyes watching her reflection as she bobbed onto my shaft, drawing it out one moment to see the strands of pre-cum stringing from her shiny lips and then plunging it into her mouth the next, rubbing the soft insides of her cheeks against the frenulum and curling her tongue over the great swollen head.

I could have stood there for hours, letting her service my cock until it burst into her mouth like a fire hose - but I wanted to do so much else, and so after I while I drew her to her feet. Her lips were soft and wet and I kissed them, tasting myself on the shiny flesh, wincing as her sharp little teeth nibbled me. She helped pull off her clothes as we kissed: the blouse first and then the little lacy bra. Her breasts sprang free - firm and round, the nipples as hard as pebbles. She groaned as I pinched them, teasing them in my fingers to draw them out further, encompassing the firm roundness of each breast to acknowledge its shape and wondrous plasticity. Her fingers were at her skirt and she pulled it away, stepping out of it. In the mirror I could see she was only wearing her little white panties now - the delicate filigree lace hugging the delicious curves of her buttocks and clinging to her mons. The lips of her cunt were pressed against the fabric, each clearly defined, and I felt my cock twitch at the sight. She stepped back and slipped her fingers under the elastic, sliding them over the peachy flesh of her thighs and stepping out of them to stand before me naked. With trembling fingers I stripped off my clothes, tossing them aside until I was naked too; and for a few moments we stood and regarded each other.

I had eaten Amie on our first night but it had been rushed - but now there was time to fully enjoy myself as I knelt at the altar of my sister's cunt. The lips of her pussy were shiny and pink, drawn apart with her excitement and with a gleam of pearly juice between them. I touched her lightly with the tip of my tongue, lapping at the portal to her body, curling the tip between the fragrant lips to scoop her discharge into my mouth. The flesh of her thighs touched my cheeks like velvet and her hands were in my hair to guide me, and I could hear her moaning as my tongue delved into her secret passage. She pressed hard against me, releasing a flow of fluid that bubbled over my lips and chin like the juice of a luscious fruit, sweet and fragrant, smearing over the smooth golden flesh of her thighs and staining the sheets below her crutch.

I could smell her too: the essence of a young, healthy woman in full arousal, the aroma filling my mind and seizing my senses with the singular yearning to bury myself in her as deeply as I could, to be as one. Time ceased to have any meaning - there was only me and Amie, my tongue lapping at her cunt, shimmering over the trembling lips of her labia, delving into her steaming vulva and then spearing deeper to wriggle inside her as far as I could.

I could have eaten her all night, I think: taken the main course she was offering and swallowed her for dessert as well, but she could take no more. I became aware of her pulling at my head, lifting me and her voice was soft and insistent. "Jesus, Jack. Stop...stop. No more." Her cheeks were flushed and her lips pouting, swollen from where she had bitten them in her passion, and she regarded me with heavy-lidded eyes. "Fuck me now," she said. "Fuck me all night."

The initial penetration was exquisite: the nudge of her labia against my glans... the first touch of our swollen flesh. I eased forward lightly and the head of my cock entered her body, easing aside the lips to slide into her tight wet flesh. She rolled languorously beneath me, her hips arching to suck my shaft deeper, to open the channel for the maximum depth. Her face was against mine and I heard her growling deep in her throat as she felt herself stretched open.