A Family's Christmas Stockings

He and Jessica had just beaten the storm, and walked into find their mother relaxing in the pool. She was clearly happy to see them, jumping out to towel herself off, then giving them quick kisses on the cheek while being careful not to get them wet.

It was as she kissed him that Chad noticed the clothes she'd left on a deckchair. Her skirt and blouse on the chair, and over these had casually been thrown a pair of her suntan pantyhose. He felt a rush at the sight of them, and felt his dick begin to get stiff. He didn't see any panties peeking out from the clothes pile. The thought of a woman wearing hose without anything between them and her pussy turned him on at any time. Evidently, his body if not his mind, considered it hot even when the woman in question was his mother.

He stuck his hand in his khaki's pocket so he could hopefully reach it to keep it down. He didn't think either Jess or his mom noticed, but becoming hard then had acted as a perverse radar. The kiss he'd just received from her seemed to linger warmly on him. He noticed the pleasant swell of her breasts and her wet, smooth legs, and felt sickened with himself.

"Where's Dad?" Jessica had asked before a deafening boom had risen from the basement media room.

Chad was grateful for the distraction. Medal of Honor?" he had asked.

"The latest SOCOM," his mother had fumed.

Her mom's anger upset Jessica. This wasn't a good start for the separate peace she was hoping to find here at home.

Jess and Chad had gone down to see their old man. It was obvious he too was happy to see them. He'd even paused his game to chat with them a bit.

"Well, I've already seen your grades, so I know you've both been good girls and boys," Gene had said with a laugh. "I can assure you, Santa and Amazon.com will be rewarding you appropriately."

"Another year of not having to leave the house for presents," Chad thought. He realized his father was trying to be nice, but there was something sad in how out-of-touch he was, telegraphing how he avoided leaving the house while not even realizing it.

After talking a little bit about the weather and the drive in, Gene had concluded their audience. "Well, I'll let you guys go grab something to eat," he'd said, and then returned to his game.

His mother had, as ever, been more involved and made them something to eat, but her frustration with their father was obvious despite her best efforts. To Jessica, it felt like the visit had already curdled. To Chad it felt much the same, made all the worse by the fact that his sister in her stockings had continued to distract.

Now he was sitting alone, alternating between listlessly watching the fire burn and the snow fall. The house was silent--Dad evidently had gone to sleep because he couldn't hear any explosions. He was on his third Sam Adams. He was reasonably sure another two were still in his future.

He heard some movement behind him. The kitchen was a modern, open-concept of stainless steel and granite that meshed elegantly into the living room. He saw Jess getting a beer from the fridge.

She had changed into an oversized USC T-shirt. But she had also left on her hose. And on top of everything, she sat herself next to him.

Really? Chad thought. If it's cold, why don't you put on a pair of flannel pants or tights? I do not fucking need this right now.

He was surprised at how agitated he was seeing her in them. The beer probably wasn't helping. He reminded himself that it wasn't a big deal for her--to her they were probably no different from socks. It didn't really make him feel any better. "Thought you went to sleep," Chad said evenly.

"Couldn't. Churned up." She folded her stockinged legs beneath her and stared at the fire. Her lacquered toenails shined in the firelight through her nylons. He probably would have gotten up then and there if his dick hadn't stiffened at the sight. Unsure if he could hide it quite as well as in the atrium, he just took another swig of beer.

"Mom and Dad's drama?" he asked.

"No, that I'm kind of used to."

"Then what?"

She didn't know how to begin. She didn't want him to know much she'd been slutted up this semester, but it was gnawing at her and the reality was she didn't have many friends that she could talk to about it. "I've really fucked up this semester," she said.

"Dad was impressed with your grades."

Chad watched her as she chugged half her bottle. "It's not that. It's that I... haven't been very chaste while at school."

"No one is."

"But does everyone feel as empty after?" She chugged the rest of her beer.

"Easy there," he said.

She was beginning to tear up. "I thought that being away from school would help, you know? But lying in bed, I just relive all the mistakes I made, and I realize that it's not something I can run away from."

Chad put his own beer down, placed his arm around her. "That's not true. Whatever happened, you can start again."

She wrapped her arms around him, sobbing. "I don't know if I can. What if I'm just like that? Some dumb slut that's always going to be alone, always be the girl that gets used."

As she pressed against him, her nylon covered legs brushed against him. He wanted more than anything to comfort his hurt sister, and yet his body was reacting to hers. He put his hand onto her leg, and feeling the material was like an electric charge buzzing through his arm. He'd thought his dick was hard already, but now it was becoming painfully so.

He focused as best he could. "It's okay, Jess--it's okay."

"I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me," she said.

"Come on--nothing's wrong with you," Chad said, rubbing her back. Despite himself, he felt that she hadn't any bra on beneath her T-shirt.

Jess was fighting a losing battle to contain herself. It was all coming out now. "I just want to be loved, you know? I mean, it's normal for a girl to like sex, right? Why can't it be with someone who, you know, gives a shit about me?"

"I care about you," Chad said dumbly. His hand continued to rub her knee. He breathed her in--she wasn't even wearing perfume and she still smelled amazing, like something mixing the sweetness of honey and the cleanness of linen. He'd never noticed it before, but then they'd never hugged this long either.

The beers made everything feel less real. The firelight helped as it played over her long legs, the nylon's sheen making them look inhumanly perfect. The snow was already accumulating on the decks, and added to the sense of isolation. The otherworldliness felt real, as if he was someplace where normal rules didn't apply.

In the days to come, Jessica would think about what happened next, and how it had changed everything.

She felt something brushing against her leg. She was no lightweight, but pounding a whole beer in a minute still made her head swim. She felt less in control, more like she was simply reacting to stimulus.

How many times had this happened to her previously while over at a guy's apartment? Feel, reach, stroke. It's what sluts like her had been trained to do. Without thinking, she reached down to feel what it was.

It was her brother's hard cock, bulging through his khakis. Automatically, she rubbed it twice lengthwise before remembering herself, and pulling back.

Yet it was too late. Whatever precipice Chad had been balancing on, feeling her touch his cock had tipped him. He kissed her full on the mouth then.

Jessica's slut past caught up with her again, and her mouth opened for Chad's probing tongue. The beer on his breath tasted sweet to her, as it had so many times before with so many other boys.

His hands felt her ass. If he'd still been capable of stopping before, feeling that she wasn't wearing panties beneath her hose made what was about to happen inevitable.

Chad thought about seeing his mother's pantyhose draped on the deck chair. The thought that she didn't bother with underwear while wearing pantyhose had seemed so sickening then. Now it made finding his sister did the same thing all the more hot--like mother, like daughter.

He pushed her down on her back, then laid on top of her. Her shirt hitched up, and he saw that the hose she was wearing were sheer-to-waist. She was exposed, unprotected, the only thing hidden from view was her pussy itself behind a cotton panel. It wouldn't be hard to tear through.

Looking up at him, it was a familiar position for Jess, finding herself on a couch and suddenly a guy positioning himself between her legs on top of her.

His hips pinned hers. He was still kissing her, and Jessica could feel his dick pressing against her through his pants and her hose.

She broke the kiss. "No, don't," she said. Yet just as in far too many apartments that she'd found herself in the semester before, the words came out almost beckoning--long and whispered, almost coyly--instead of a short, sharp command for him to stop.

"No," she said again, and it surprised her it came out in the same hushed whisper. She had to be afraid or embarrassed of waking mom and day. That had to be it. It couldn't be that she wanted this, like she'd wanted the other men. "Please don't do this."

"I need this," he said in a baritone so deep it could have been a wolf growling over a fresh kill. Then he pressed his mouth again to hers, stabbing his tongue into her mouth. She tried to turn her head away from him, but his mouth followed hers. Again she found herself responding, her tongue cautiously meeting his.

She was amazed how warm his hand felt as it stroked her legs, then ran up towards her crotch. He rubbed her pantyhose directly over her pussy.

Despite herself, her body responded. The warm need of his stroking hand was met with a rush of wet need at her pussy. She felt disgusted with herself--why was she doing this? Yet there was just something about unyielding male need that made her want to submit to it.

Chad wasn't stopping. She looked down to see that he had freed his dick from his pants. In the firelight, she could see its thickness. It seemed to get even bigger as it touched her pantyhosed leg. Through her nylons, it felt hotter than his hand.

Seeing her brother's cock made it all both more and less real. What was coming was obvious, and yet it still stunned her.

He tore the crotch of her pantyhose. She felt how exposed she was for only a second before he leaned down, placing his dick's shaft directly on the top of her hairless entrance. The warmth of it made her even wetter.

"Oh my God," she breathed. He shifted, angled himself at her. Her young tightness made for some resistance as he shifted, angling the head of his cock to her slit. A slow, hard push and he was inside her.

She gasped, and looked up at his face. Firelight flickered across it. His eyes were dark, intense, focused on her as though there was nothing else in the world. His teeth were bared as he felt a pleasure so intense he instinctively tried to resist it.

Her brother through the crazed haze of his own lust studied his sister in the instant of that first, penetrating thrust. Her eyes were soft, looking at him with almost wonder. Her lips were parted as though moaning silently.

"Oh my God," she said again. "You're fucking me."

The wrongness of feeling her brother's warm hardness stretching her... it heightened the pleasure. She tried to fight it, but it was rising in her too fast. She was so wet now--probably soaking the couch cushions she realized. A moan rose from her.

Chad's hand quickly covered her mouth. "No--Mom and Dad can't know that I'm raping my sister."

Raping. Yes, she was being raped, wasn't she? So it wasn't her fault. She shouldn't fight what she was feeling--she couldn't. She wasn't responsible. And freeing herself from any control, it somehow seemed to free her mind to give into what her body already decided it enjoyed. She nodded that she understood and he removed his hand from her mouth.

He thrust deep into her, an electric pleasure running through his cock. Christ, she was tight. "We're fucking, Jess," he whispered. "I'm fucking my sister through her pantyhose."

Her legs wrapped themselves around his ass, trapping him. It gave him better access to her too. "We shouldn't be doing this, Chad. We shouldn't be fucking through my pantyhose," she said, mirroring his comment.

"I don't care we shouldn't be fucking--I need to get this out of me," he said.

"Do you like fucking your sister through her pantyhose?" she asked, noticing the slight, pleasurable wince he gave at the word's mention.

"Yes--yes, I need this," he said. He began to thrust faster and faster.

"You need to fuck me through my pantyhose?"

"Yes--you can't stop me. You're so fucking wet--you don't even want to stop me."

"I can't stop you, Chad. Whenever you want to fuck your sister through her pantyhose, she can't stop you." He pumped her faster, and at the thought that she could be used by him whenever he wanted, she felt an orgasm begin to rise. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum, Chad. My brother is making me cum, my brother is making me cum," she repeated again and again, the phrase becoming a crazed mantra beckoning her climax.

It beckoned Chad's climax too. He'd been fighting it, wanting to make the moment last, but hearing his sister say that he was making her cum had tripped some switch.

She began to buck against him as she came, even as he started to feel his cum load boil over inside his balls and begin racing up his cock.

The pleasure consumed him, but there was still some part of his mind's intelligence functioning, could still distantly process consequences. It was that part of him that both made him cover her mouth as she began to scream as her orgasm broke into her, and pull his cock from her before he came.

It was a close thing, however, the tip of his head began to shoot his seed thickly onto her pantyhose covered abdomen a split second after he pulled out. Jerking his dick, the white of his cum contrasted sharply against her jet black nylons. Some of it shot further, up beyond her hose's waistband and onto her hiked up T-shirt.

The sensation that had begun with his exploding cock tip had torn through the rest of his body, and in that moment there was nothing except the amazing pleasure he felt. But as it passed, his intelligence began to reassert itself. His normal self--it was hard to know then if this was the real him, or if he'd been his real self the instant before while inside Jess--looked down at his sister.

Her face sweating in the firelight, cum all over her, hose torn, his slick cock lording over the entire scene.

A wave of disgust washed over him. He'd gone from nicely buzzing to feeling more sober than he ever had in his life. "Oh God, Jess, I am so sorry," he said, quickly pushing his dick into his pants as spare drops of semen fell onto the couch.

Jess looked up to him, amazed at how quickly the lust in his eyes had shifted to embarrassment, self-loathing, and concern for her. For her own part, she didn't know what to feel. The storm of her orgasm had passed, all that was left now for her was the shock of what had caused it, and how to deal with the destruction that might have been left in its wake.

"Chad--" she began, but he cut her off.

"Don't look at me, Jess. There's something wrong with me. I have this fetish--this stupid, disgusting fetish."

"Pantyhose?" she asked. She'd never known, which amazed her considering how close she thought the two of them were.

He winced at that. "I've had it forever. I'm so fucked up. I need help. I'm just--I'm just so sorry," he said, before turning to leave the room, his head in his hands.

She lay there, still in shock as she heard him race up the stairs to his bedroom.

Jessica picked herself off the couch, the world seemed to sway beneath her. Unthinking, she flipped over the cushion so the cum stain wouldn't be obvious. Outside, the snow continued to fall in large, wet flakes. Everything was so silent.

She walked slowly up over to the kitchen bathroom, then looked at herself in the mirror.

She was a mess. Runs in her hose from the tear Chad had made ran down her legs. Her shirt was wet with his spunk. She could smell his seed on her as she wiped it off. Her hair was tangled.

She should be angry at him, she knew. She wasn't, though. He felt bad, afterwards. She almost wondered if she should check on him except that would have probably just made him feel worse. He had a need, had probably been fighting it for all his life, and together they had managed to inadvertently set it off.

And yes, they had done it together, even if she had only become an accomplice at his initiation. It had been easy in the moment to shirk off responsibility on Chad, but the reality was that she could have yelled for help. She could have said no forcefully. She could have fought him. But she hadn't. Why not? Chad had ran away talking about what was wrong with him, but in the bathroom's harsh light, she began to wonder what was wrong with her.

And worse yet... her heartbeat was still pumping fast. It had felt good. It had felt really good being with him.

She looked at her face. How many times had she looked at herself like this, wondering how she'd allowed herself to get used by some asshole. This time was different, at least. Chad wasn't an asshole. He loved her. The fact that he did had been obvious their whole lives, including when he'd just ran out of the room in shame.

And then she saw it, an elegant solution to the problem of good sex without love. What shocked her wasn't just that the thought, so taboo just twenty minutes earlier, crossed her mind, but that it seemed reasonable to heal the hurt she was carrying in her, and also the pain she now saw that her brother had in him.

She took off her shirt, looked at her body wearing only the torn hose.

Yes, Jessica decided, she could get used to this. Hell, she could even love it.

***

December 23

"What the fuck is this?" Chad asked as he entered the kitchen.

"Coffee. Want some?" Jess asked. She was holding a mug, but the way she said it sounded suggestive, as if she were talking less about espresso and more about what was on her legs. She wore the same T-shirt as last night, but had on a fresh pair of coffee colored nylons underneath.

"Why are you wearing those?"

"Chad, everything is okay," she said with a smile. "Just relax."

No, it wasn't. Shame made even the sight of her painful. Seeing her in pantyhose? It practically made him suicidal after what he had done.

Chad looked over her shoulder out the kitchen window. It was still coming down hard, and would continue for the better part of today and tomorrow. Barely after dawn, the snow looked blue in the uncertain morning light. He wondered about getting his father's Hummer. It had a plow mounted on the front during the winter. He wondered if he could get away from here in it. Being stranded in a snow drift at this point was a risk he was willing take.

He turned to leave, but Jess grabbed his arm. "Chad, stop. We need to talk."

"No, we need to forget it."

"You fucked me last night, Chad. You fucked your own sister." The bluntness of the comment stunned him. He winced, wondering if despite the house's enormous size, their parents might hear. It was then that she put her arms around him, pressed her body against his, and looked him hard in the eye. "And I liked it."

He stared at her. "You're fucking insane," he said, beginning to push her away.

As usual, he had worn soccer shorts and a T-shirt to sleep. She drew up one of her pantyhosed legs, pressing it against his bare thigh. "You liked it too, Chad. Don't pretend that you didn't. I have the proof on my T-shirt. And on a ruined pair of hose up in my room as well."

"Look, I'm sick, and I think you're sick now too." His dick was getting hard, but after his weakness last night, he wasn't giving in again. He gently pulled her arms off him.