A Taste of Incest - Peaches & Cream

Dawn broke over them. Oops, someone forgot to pull the shades last night! Smog-filtered sunlight invaded their eyes. They all realized simultaneously: GOTTA PISS!

Three hot-and-bothered naked bodies raced for the little bathroom. Lyn won. She plopped her butt down on the toilet. "Hey, it's MY fucking bath! You don't like it, you can go piss in the shower."

Janie looked at Ron. "Why not?" She stepped in. Ron shrugged and joined her. Their golden outpourings flowed drainward while Lyn's tinkle echoed and splashed.

Janie watched Ron's emission. "Nice cock, cuz." She reached out, took him in hand, and aimed his stream against the shower wall. "Tag, you're it!" Her own urine sluiced down her taut legs.

"How about a little sanitation?" Lyn stepped into the shower with them. Ron adjusted the flow. The kissed and hugged and scrubbed each other again. The shower was a bit too small and cramped for any vigorous activities among the three. They dried each other and returned to bed.

Lyn felt uneasy but excited. Her brother! Her cousin! So wrong... but so sexy! She itched for her art tools, to model this scene. But she itched more for orgasms.

The morning scene: Janie between Lyn's legs, providing great oral pleasure, her butt in the air, with Ron behind her, slowly fucking her. Moaning, and shifting, with Janie and Lyn trading places, and Ron fucking faster into his sister, and harder, till he erupted, grunting. Shift again, with Lyn in a languid 69 atop Janie. More moans.

Janie swam out from under Lyn and sprawled against Ron. She gave his depleted cock a deep kiss.

"Fuck, I sure wish we could do this all day." She stretched to kiss Lyn. "But I gotta get back to San Diego. Actually, gotta make a run to Tijuana. Things to do." Mostly legal things, she thought. Should be safe, she hoped.

Lyn hugged her cousin. "Yeah, I gotta get to work too. Got deadlines coming on a couple projects." She leaned into her brother. "So leave me alone today, bro. Save that for later." She squeezed his cock.

They reluctantly vacated the bed, and cleaned up, and dressed; and breakfasted on impromptu burritos and strong coffee and peach ice cream; and faced the day. Janie departed with hugs and kisses. Lyn sketched a few erotic studies, and then bent to her paying work in clay and plaster.

Ron had no obligations. He slipped on sneakers and shorts, jogged around the neighborhood, returned for yet another shower, and settled into a lazy day: read, practice guitar, tidy-up Lyn's place.

Ron and Lyn slept in her bed that night before Gwen's return. Or rather: They drank a bottle or three of wine with their dinner of takeout tacos. Lyn invited her brother to bed. They made love, and again. Lyn babbled her climaxes. Ron held her, and fell asleep, and did not snore much.

And Lyn lay sleepless much of the night.

Her mind roiled. Right or wrong? Did these labels matter? Was she breaking horrible taboos? How much social teaching was erroneous or irrelevant? Did she want her brother to stay with her? Could outsiders accept them? Who could she tell?

Why Ronny? Sure, she had always loved him, even when she and Sue ganged up on their big brother. He never treated her bad... well, not too bad. She was five years younger. He was the guy who protected her. And now he was so sexy, and Janie got them all fucking, and...

Weariness eventually stilled her tempestuous thoughts. She slept, but not easily.

*****

Lyn woke to dim light, spooned into her brother. Her movement woke him too. Ron rolled to face her.

"Morning. How you doing?" He kissed her. "Ick, morning breath! But I don't care." He kissed her again, open-mouthed. She melted against him. His flesh was so hot!

He backed off. "Umm, nice. But I gotta pee. Don't run off, okay?"

She twitched. "Well, go pee then, but hurry up. I gotta too."

They drained and dried in sequence, and returned to bed. Gentle lovemaking; a long slow fuck. Lyn felt enveloped in warmth and affection. Her own brother! She wrapped her legs around him, and pulled him close, and cried against his shoulder.

"Goddam it Ronny, I'm just... I dunno, I only..."

"Shhh, don't worry, it's all okay, we're not..."

"Yes we are! But we're not going to stop, are we? Not now?"

He held her close. She made a decision. She pushed away.

"C'mon, it's time to get up." She thumb-thumped his cock. "I mean it!"

They both dressed in cutoff jeans and bright tees. Lyn snapped her big brother's bare butt with a towel when he bent over to retrieve his clothes.

"Hey, quit that!"

"Such an inviting ass you have there, bro."

Strong coffee and breakfast burritos fueled a serious discussion. Lyn stared at her brother over the rickety pine kitchen table.

"Ronny, you know I love you. I just don't know if I can LOVE you." She frowned.

"I won't force you into anything you don't want. But what DO you want?"

"I want... I dunno. Gwen is my best friend, and she'll be back in a few hours. She can't know anything about this, about us. I know she's hot for you. I want you here. But I can't have you when she's here. Nothing will stay secret."

"Hey, you know I'd never..."

"Yeah, you wouldn't, and Janie probably wouldn't. But shut up, let me finish. You can stay. You can stay in Gwen's bed, or on the couch - just not in my bed, not when she's here, when anyone's here."

"So you're saying..."

"SHUT UP, will you? Look, you've been thumbing all over, fucking around, wasting your life - for what, five, six years now? You're smart! You belong in college! So I'll tell you what - you can stay here, and go to State full-time. Gwen and I will be glad to feed you. I'll pay for your books. Tuition's almost nothing. You know Dad will pay you for college too, any extra cash you need. You'll get a free ride here, guaranteed. Whaddya think?"

Ron refilled their coffee cups. Questions poured out.

"You mean that? You think Gwen would go for it? Are you sure you want me in Gwen's bed? What happens if she or you find someone else? What..."

"You worry too much, Ron. And you thought *I* was the worrywart here! Yeah, I think this is at least worth trying."

"You're serious about this then?" He sipped more evil black brew.

She reached across the table for his hand.

"Fuck yeah, I'm serious. Look, the fall semester is just starting. You'd have to bust ass to get in now. You could..."

"I could think about this. Yeah, I WILL think about this. Let's wait till Gwen gets back tonight. We'll talk. Now, I have plans already. Loose plans, yeah, but still... I'm going back to San Francisco for awhile, and maybe Seattle, and Santa Fe for sure. I can come back here, no problem."

"Sure, and you could..."

"I could start the winter session in December. I'm sure I'll be back here by then. Might come through a couple times before then, too. That okay with you?"

"Oh fuck, Ronny, I just..."

Lyn stood. She sobbed. She wrapped her arms around herself and paced around the not-too-large room, unconsciously avoiding minor obstacles. She walked beside Ron. He stood. She stared up into his face.

Without warning, she punched him in the center of his chest, just missing his solar plexus. He gasped. She threw herself against him, held him tight, and cried.

"Goddam you, Ronny! Why... oh fuck that! Just be here, okay? Please?"

She kissed him on the lips, fast, and sobbed. Then she pushed him away.

"I've got work to do. You've got to get out for now. See ya this afternoon."

Their day was strained. Gwen arrived in time for dinner. She totally approved of Lyn's plan. And she dragged Ron to her room that night.

Lyn lay alone in her bed. She heard Gwen and Ron through the thin walls, and sighed. Would this ever work?

*****

Ron was a bum. A personable bum, well-read, with decent manners, but still a bum. He hitchhiked, worked odd jobs, played guitar in bars and gutters - no ties, no responsibilities, no worries. A bum.

Lyn was an artist. A journeyman-level, craft-oriented worker, but still an artist, creative and skilled at what she did. She was even financially responsible. Did she really want to support her big brother?

Gwen was a librarian - not the stereotypical sort to SHOOSH! patrons who dared utter a peep, but helpful, engaging, and generous - and extremely horny. Still, she just didn't feel quite right to Ron.

Ron stayed in San Bernardino another week. He worked day labor at Manpower, fucked Gwen when they were home, and made love with Lyn when they were alone. Life was pleasant enough. He was no leech - he borrowed no money, abused no privileges. But he was restless. Again. He hit the road. Again.

Not The End.

*****

A Taste of Time and Place

(from Uncle Ron's notes)

*****

A brief description the USA pre-1976 era for readers who weren't around then:

This was an age before personal computers, the Internet, wireless phones, AIDS, costly gasoline and cigarettes, car seat belts, eXtreme sports, remote-control vibrators, shaved or shaped pubic muffs, radical Islam, self-esteem, environmentalism, CDs and DVDs, home video, CNN and FOX, gay liberation, and the fall of communism.

Mind-bending drugs were common. "If you can remember the 60s-70s then you weren't really there." The contraceptive Pill was widespread. Fuel was cheap. Cars contained 8-track or cassette tape players. Although capitalism seemed corrupt and weak, unemployment was low in the USA, except among non-whites. Devastating nuclear war was expected at any moment.

Add those up, and you get a frantic, mobile, stoned, hot-sexed youth culture. Communication moved at the pace of a postcard or a phone call. The future was frightening. "The end is near; let's fuck ourselves to death." Party today before we're vaporized tomorrow. Even if you weren't into doom-and-gloom, you tried to live fast and leave a striking memory.

That was the world in which Ron and family and friends grew up. Duck-and-cover drills and bomb shelters. Wolfman Jack spinning hot music from an overpowered Mexican antenna. Rampant racism and sexism. Fear of being drafted to die in VietNam. Random unprotected sex, with disease less worrisome than pregnancy. Abundant dope and crashpads and thumb rides. Cheap harmonicas. The splintering of The Establishment.

It's a strange past. The future will be stranger than we can imagine.

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia Smurf is copyright (c) 2014. Keep your eyes peeled for more standalone A TASTE OF INCEST tales - some adapted, some new, none depending on their predecessors - but go ahead, read them anyway. If you like this, VOTE!

And don't miss THE BOOK OF RUTH and the BLACK & WHITE stories.