A Rose for Cinderella

"A bit," she affirmed.

"Well go finish getting dressed. I'll shower and be ready to go to dinner in a few."

I grabbed my travel kit and headed to the bathroom.

After shaving and brushing my teeth, I got in the shower for a quick rinse. When I was done, I looked for my clothes and towels and they were all missing.

"Marcy, damn it. Bring me a towel."

She peeked around the door (which I had stupidly left unlocked). "What towel?"

"Come on Marc..."

Before I could finish, she brought the towels and robes back in, lowered the lid to the toilet, sat down and held out a towel. She was still in her bra and panties.

I don't know why I did what I did, but I stepped out of the shower and walked straight up to her, and stood with my cock, inches from her face.

"There. Satisfied?" I teased.

"Oh my god..." she whispered. "It's so much different than I thought."

"Now get out, so I can finish," I demanded as I started drying off.

Marcy left.

Somehow, we finally got dressed and headed out.

We went to the Tadich Grill, its where dad took mom on their first date. It's a place we always go when we come down to the city for a weekend visit.

It was, as usual, packed. So we waited at the bar until a booth opened up.

We did more eating than talking, as we were both ravenous, having skipped lunch. But after, as we walked back to the Mark, I needed some answers.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked, indicating I was aware Marcy's earlier behavior was completely out of left field.

"No one," she replied.

"Huh?"

"Sammy. Let's go up to the top. I'm sure you're curious about my aberrant behavior earlier."

"You got that right."

When we got to the top and were settled at a window seat looking out over the city, I sipped my beer waiting until Marcy had taken a sip of her lemonade.

"Okay. Here goes," she said.

For the next hour, she explained a part of her life I never knew, or would have ever even guessed at.

It seems Marcy has a voracious mental sexual appetite. But, other than on-line porn and masturbation sessions (multiple times each day), she's never, in any way, been with another human, boy or girl.

She told me she's explored each aspect of human sexuality, from the most innocent such as kissing, to the most bizarre, which she thinks is either extreme bondage or interspecies activity. Her reasoning, there's no love involved in either form of sexual expression. For Marcy, the thing that got her off time and time again is the depictions of sex as an extension of love.

"Wow," I remarked. "What would mom and dad think?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Mom knows all my secrets. And, come to think of it, I know all hers."

"Mom has secrets?"

"Oh boy - does she ever."

"How did all this happen? Where was I? Where was dad?"

"Settle down. It's not like we're keeping things from you. But think, did you ever ask any sexually related questions of mom and dad?"

"No."

"I did. Especially when I hit puberty. I asked mom if it was okay if I started having sex."

"What'd she say?"

"She laughed, and told me my time would come. She told me, when the time came, I'd find out about the most exquisite form of expression known to humans."

I didn't say anything.

"Then," Marcy continued, "Over the past six and a half years, we've had occasional conversations about the stuff I was discovering on-line. Mom never blanched or sugar coated anything."

"Does she know you masturbate?"

"Duh! Of course. She's the one who showed me how to do it where I could get the most enjoyment out of it."

I was dumbstruck.

"What else?" I finally managed.

"She showed me how to give a blowjob."

"How?"

"With a banana dufus. What'd ya think, she went and got dad and used him as a sex doll?"

I held my tongue.

"She told me about anal sex."

"Mom has anal sex?"

"She and dad aren't dead you know. They're both still in their mid-forties. I know for certain, dad still wakes up with morning wood."

"What?"

"I've cracked the door open a few times, just to see what it was like. But he always was covered by a sheet or, if it was real hot, he'd be wearing boxers and sleeping on top of the covers."

"You're kinky."

"No I'm not. I'm normal."

"Not in my book, you're not."

"Let me ask you. Didn't you ever try to sneak a peek at mom, or at my breasts?"

"Not really."

"Oh come on now. I know you looked down my t-shirt at breakfast a year ago."

"How do you know that?"

"I purposefully ripped it, so you'd see my boobs, or at least one of them."

"Why?"

"I wanted someone to see them. Christ Sammy, I'm proud of the genes mom and dad provided me and the way, like a flower budding on a plant, I'm blossoming. It's why I wanted to have a special dress, with ample cleavage to go to the dance."

"I'm sorry I spoiled that for you."

"You didn't. I think your idea is so much better. Being here with you is like the start of my best dream ever. I just hope the clock never strikes midnight."

"So what now?"

"Okay. I'm going to suggest how we spend these next few days, and if you agree, I'll set the agenda. You'll be my escort and protector, but I'm in charge."

"I'm listening."

"Tonight, as I'm really tired, and I'm guessing you are as well, we're going to just go to sleep."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Then starting tomorrow, depending on the text I get from mom, I'll let you know each morning what I have in mind. Agreed?"

"What text?"

"I'll show it to you when it comes and then explain what it means."

"When will it come?"

"In about 20 minutes or so."

"Then let's go down to the room. I'm beat."

"Fine with me."

In the room, we each took turns in the bathroom, changing into our sleep wear. Marcy first, then me.

When I came out, she was holding her mobile phone in her hand and smiling.

"What? Did the text come?"

She motioned me over and showed me the text from mom. It was simple; a smiley face.

"What does that mean?"

"It means she talked with dad, explained to him what my plans are, and though I'm sure he had some reservations, he agreed to let me have my way."

"And just what way is that?"

"You'll see starting tomorrow."

"Okay. Enough mystery for one day. I'm turning out the lights so we can sleep. Okay?"

"Sure thing", Marcy said hopping under the covers. Just as I reached for the light, she quickly pulled her sleep t-shirt over her head, smiled and turned to face me while fluffing her pillow.

"I see," I said.

Marcy lifted the covers letting me see her breasts.

"Now you see," she giggled.

I turned out the light and lay facing away from Marcy.

"Oh no you don't," she chided. Then she scooted up to me, spooning with her nude breasts pressed up against my back.

"Wait," she said. "This won't work."

Then she pulled on my shirt until it was bunched up under my arms and snuggled herself up against me again. Exasperated, I pulled the shirt the rest of the way off, laid back down and felt her distended nipples pressing into my naked skin.

"Perfect," she whispered.

Then we slept.

All through the night, I experienced the most exquisitely sensual dreams. Though somewhat abstract as far as the characters that populated each dream were concerned, they were never the less performing gentle and loving physical gestures to my body.

I was uncertain, if I was still dreaming, but the darkness on the other side of my eyelids started to have a faint gray glow. At the same time, I imagined I was near a gurgling brook listening to the sounds of water gently lapping at the shore.

I felt my genitals tighten up, and release whatever was dammed up inside. And as the pulses of an orgasm, woke me, I realized I was cumming in my sister's mouth. She watched me wake up but never flinched.

After she'd swallowed everything, she smacked her lips, grinned, and laid her head on my thigh.

"I'm so glad," she started to say. "I'm so glad mom told me what to expect or I never would have managed to get all your cum."

I thought I was still dreaming.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" she asked.

I still wasn't sure I was awake.

"Sammy," she said, grabbing my cock and slapping it against her lips.

I was awake.

"When was the last time you came?"

"I don't know, a few days ago."

"Listen, oh brother of mine. If I'm going to go down on you again, you're going to have to jack off more often. I don't think I'll be hungry for another week."

"You just blew me," I exclaimed, as if my sister had just punched me in the gut instead of giving me oral sex.

"You got that right," was all she offered.

I fell back on my pillow trying to make sense of it all.

"Hey, mom said guys like to sleep after they cum, but we've got a ton of stuff to do today. Tell you what, if you get your lazy ass outta bed, and help me explore the city, I'll do that again later tonight. And if you're really a good brother, I'll let you return the favor."

I was both excited and perplexed. Where was all this leading?

During the day, we did the usual stuff people who are not tourists do when they come into the city. We shopped.

Or, more precisely, Marcy shopped.

When the afternoon shadows got long, we started to head back to the hotel. But Marcy, stopped and asked me to wait one more minute while she ran back to the store we'd just exited.

She came out a few minutes later with a box, inside a small bag. I figured it was some accessory or other for the clothes she'd purchased.

"I'm going to Davis," she blurted out, when we were back in the room.

"Davis, the University?" I asked.

"Do you know another Davis?"

"No smarty, I don't. It's just such a non sequitur after all the things we've been talking about."

"Yeah. Well I've got other plans as well which I now feel would be appropriate divulging."

"Does it involve sex?"

"Do you want it to?"

"I don't know. I was trying to keep the conversation light."

"Why?"

"Because, dear sister. In the last twenty-four hours I've learned a lot about a person I thought I knew. And by a lot, I mean a lot about things that are usually kept private amongst siblings. And then this morning you sucked my dick."

"Well I'm different."

"No shit."

"You didn't like it when I did that?"

"Are you kidding?" I loved it. But I've had trouble all day reconciling everything I'm discovering with everything I thought I knew up until a couple days ago. And don't forget you're still my sister."

"You don't think sisters have sex with their brothers?"

"Probably, I just never thought about you that way."

"Am I not that attractive to you?"

"Oh come on. You're way top bright to suggest that insecurity. You're beautiful."

"Thank you. So, let me ask you a serious question now that you know I'm going to Davis in the fall."

"Shoot."

"Are your plans to come back to the farm so you and dad can work on the software stuff you've been developing at school?"

"Yes. How much do you know about that?"

"A lot. Remember, mom is more like my sister than my mother. She knows my goals and plans, and she makes sure I know what the rest of the family is up to whenever there's new information to share."

"Well then yes. I'm moving back to the farm so dad and I can run the tests and work out the kinks before we take any of the products to market."

"Will that take a while?"

"A couple years, why?"

"Okay, now please don't respond to what I'm about to say until I've finished. Don't even interrupt me with questions. This won't take long, so hear me out."

I nodded.

"I'm in love with you. In a way it's both simple and complicated."

Marcy continued.

"It's simple because I worship you. It's complicated because you're my brother. But to take a bit of pressure off any response you might think you're going to offer, when I'm finished telling you my plans, I'm going to reveal one more secret."

I waited for her to catch her breath and continue.

"I'd like nothing more than for you and I to live together as husband and wife. I'd like to share our lives and our dreams with each other. Someday, I'd love to have children and raise a family with you."

My brow started to furrow with worry.

"I chose Davis for two reasons. First they've great programs that will help me understand the economics of farming. And, more importantly, the campus is close enough to home, that I can do what you've done these past few years, and that's to come home several weekends every term."

I waited.

"I know you did that for me. I know you did my chores when I was sick back in third grade and then still took time to come read all those fairy tales to me at the end of your day. And I know you cried each day I was in intensive care."

"I know you'd walk across burning embers or broken glass to help me if I needed it. You may not know it, but I think you're in love with me too."

"Marcy..."

"Wait. I want to finish."

I sat back.

"Tomorrow, after the symphony, I want to come back to our room and give you my virginity. I want you to be the first and only man that will ever know me in an intimate way."

"I want more. I want you and I to be friends with mom and dad. I want us to travel together as two couples rather than as parents and children."

"I want to show you my copy of the Kama Sutra, and know we'll try every single way a man and a woman can couple and we'll try a lot of them more than once."

"And lastly, I want to tell you the last secret."

"Now?"

"Now," Marcy declared.

I waited.

"Mom and dad are first cousins."

"What? What are you talking about?" I asked incredulously.

When I calmed down, she explained that when she revealed her plans to seduce me, her one concern was about the ramifications of incest. It was then mom explained about her familial relationship with our father.

Mom's real mother was dad's father's sister; an aunt he never knew. She and her husband had been killed in a car wreck, and subsequently, mom was brought up by her real mother's best friend and her husband. I know it sounds complicated but, as Marcy explained, it means that in some circles, mom and dad's relationship, and our childbirths, were a result of incestuous sex.

"So, Samuel, my love, god, I love saying that," Marcy said smiling. "My love for you is not so unnatural."

"That may be, sis, but though we may understand each other, and mom and dad may understand, the rest of society will probably frown on us, if not throw us in jail, should we elect to live as husband and wife."

"Does that mean you'll consider it?"

"Now it's my turn to confess."

"What do you mean," Marcy asked in a guarded tone.

"I've always loved you. Yes, even back before you got sick. I fantasized we'd get married some day, but as the years passed by, the fantasy sat further back in the recesses of my imagination with each passing year."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. But the reality is much more frightening than the fantasy."

"Not to me."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm a planner. I've got it all figured out. Even the possibilities something may go wrong. But I'm prepared for all contingencies. All you have to do is say you'll treat me with the same dignity a husband shows his wife, and I will accept that as a marriage vow."

"You sure are a talker."

"Yes I am, but there's two ways you can shut me up. One is temporary, and one is permanent."

"How?"

"Stand up and I'll show you the temporary way," she suggested, as she moved to her knees on the floor before me.

I stood up, not sure if what I thought she was suggesting was what she actually had in mind until she started to unfasten my pants. Then I was sure.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Marcy was quiet. She couldn't talk because she never let my cock fall from her mouth. When I came, she stayed with it once again, consuming everything my balls produced.

"Now it's my turn, she suggested, smacking her lips, then standing and stripping off her clothes.

When she was totally nude, she moved to the bed, and sat at its edge with her legs spread.

"Come here and feast," she suggested.

I wasn't about to deny her. She was so beautiful, and so in need of my love, there was no way to keep her from knowing the same pleasure she'd shown me. She had three small orgasms before her fourth which was so intense she squirted.

When she recovered, she put her hands under my arms and pulled me up to lay in the bed with her.

"Are you hungry?"

"Ha ha," I laughed.

"No. I meant for real."

"Not so much. Why?"

"Neither am I. Let's sleep, have a humongous breakfast, get all fancied up, go to the symphony, show me off, and then come back here and rut, just like farm animals."

"You sure are a smooth talker."

"Deal?"

"Deal," I replied.

Once again Marcy stayed nude, took off my shirt, and spooned with her breasts pressed up against me.

In the morning, she blew me again, and again, I returned the favor.

We had a huge breakfast, went to the beauty salon, (well I went to the barbers), dressed and went to the symphony.

She was truly the bell of the ball. Where ever she walked or stood, people gawked. I took dozens of photos and texted them to mom and dad.

After, the symphony, we went back to the hotel and straight to the top.

When we were seated, an old woman dressed simply but elegantly, approached the table.

"May I have a word?" she asked.

I started to stand to offer her a seat, but she put her hand on my shoulder.

"This will only take a minute."

She turned to Marcy.

"My dear, in my many, many years of coming to this wonderful watering hole, I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you. Your beauty is both inside and out."

Then turning to me, she continued.

"And you young man, make sure you appreciate what you have. You make a wonderful companion for this woman, so don't ever take her for granted."

"I won't," I said, as the woman turned to walk away.

Then looking back over her shoulder, she added. "I know you won't."

The secret in the threads of the dress had been blessed. Someone had expressed their recognition of my sister's beauty. It was Valentine's Day, and she was Cinderella in a ball gown. But this night, she would not have to run anywhere.

Later, when we returned to the room, the bed was turned down and there was a single red rose on the pillow.

"Happy Valentine's day," I offered. In response, Marcy kissed me.

Later, when I entered her and broke through her hymen, she cried.

"It hurts Sammy. It hurts a lot."

"I'll pull out."

"NO," she nearly screamed. "Don't move. Mom said the best thing is for me to get used to it. Please don't move though, I'm in too much pain."

"Marcy..." I started to say, but she cut me off.

"Shhh, Sammy. It's going to be okay."

And I knew she was right.

The next afternoon, when we were pulling up to the house, Marcy reached into her hand bag, pulled out the box she'd gone back to the store to get, and pulled out a blood red scarf. She opened her white blouse and tied it around her neck.

As we pulled in, mom and dad came out onto the porch to greet us.

As we were getting out of the car, I just had to ask.

"What's with the scarf?"

Marcy just winked at me and replied, "Mom knows."