tagIncest/TabooBethel Island

Bethel Island


Andrew Elsmore sat in the rear seat his father's green Dodge minivan looking out of the tinted side window. On the seat to his right was a small, glossy brochure. He picked up the brochure and looked at it. Andrew was just months shy of his nineteenth birthday, and already regretting having agreed to his parents' request to join them and his sister in this vacation.

Bethel Island: The Adventure of a Lifetime! the brochure promised in bright yellow letters. Andrew rolled his blue eyes skeptically. Adventure, my ass, he thought to himself. The Donner Party probably thought they were on an adventure too. The brochure featured small glossy photos of right whales breaking from the Atlantic Ocean as seagulls flew overhead. There were two other photos, both of fat seals lying on mossy rocks.

Andrew flipped the brochure open and looked at the photos of the picturesque, yet somewhat barren, island. He turned his head back to the right and looked out at the roiling water. They were on a small ferry off the coast of Massachusetts which was bringing them and six other vehicles to Bethel Island. It was a five mile long windswept island in St. George's Bay that was home to a few dozen families who eked out an existence either fishing or catering to tourists in the summer and early fall.

Sitting beside him was his older sister, Wendy. She was twenty-two, nearly four years older than Andrew. Andrew observed his sister for a moment. She was resting her head beside the window, eyes closed as she dozed. He envied her. On the seat between them was another brochure for the so-called adventure they were on -- at least that's how their father had described it. It was July seventh, the last day of their vacation. Tomorrow they would be starting their drive back home to Beechview. Andrew could not be happier that their vacation was almost over.

"We're almost there," Raymond Elsmore said excitedly, looking back at his son and daughter.

Andrew gave his father a half-hearted smile. The ferry rolled and dipped with the movement of the turbulent water. He felt his stomach lurch and feared he might vomit.

"How much further do we have to go, Dad?" Wendy asked, stretching her back. "I think I'm going to puke." Her face wore a contorted look of discomfort.

"Not much more," her father promised.

Andrew and his sister heard the sound of the ferry being thrust into reverse. It shimmied and slowed with a groan. They felt a sense of relief and their stomachs settled as the ferry began slowly coasting towards the landing dock, a short cement incline which vehicles used to drive on or off of the ferry. A loud whine was heard as the vehicle ramp began to lower as the ferry berthed.

The siblings smiled once their father's minivan finally drove off of the ferry and onto the only road on Bethel Island. Ray Elsmore began navigating the narrow paved trail around the perimeter of the island. For the next two hours he consulted his brochure with it's minuscule map, pointing out to his family where harp seals and right whales basked and bred. He stopped several times to take pictures and watch seals with his binoculars. He was obviously much more excited than his children or his wife, Claudia. They paid little or no attention to his animated ramblings, all of which were gleaned from what he had read in the brochures that he had picked up at the tourist centre before they boarded the ferry.

By the time Raymond had circumnavigated Bethel Island and arrived back at the ferry landing the sun was low in the west. The sky and ocean had taken on a golden hue that everyone found very pretty, yet somehow disconcerting. Claudia Elsmore consulted her watch and read the sign at the wharf displaying the ferry schedule. She sighed.

"The last ferry to the mainland left over fifteen minutes ago," she said, sounding worried. She turned to her husband, waiting for him to say something, hopefully comforting.

"Way to go, Dad," Wendy spat out. "Now you've gotten us stuck here on Gilligan's Island." She folded her arms and slumped down in the seat with a petulant sigh. "I can't believe we drove all the way from Illinois for this."

Her father reached in the glove compartment and began quickly shuffling through the stack of brochures he had picked up on the mainland. "There's an inn on the island," he said. "I saw an ad for it back in Dartmouth." After a little while his eyes widened and he smiled. "Yes, here it is," he said, sounding relieved. "Bayview Bed and Breakfast."

Andrew and his sister exchanged dubious glances as their father put the minivan into gear and drove on. About a mile from the ferry landing they arrived at The Bayview Bed and Breakfast. The inn was actually a large three story pale yellow house that had been converted into a place for hapless tourists who found themselves stranded on Bethel Island for the night. Andrew and Wendy followed their parents inside, carrying their suitcases. The downstairs was surprisingly neat and cozy. It had a hardwood floor, jade green wallpaper and a pressed tin ceiling. There was a large antique sofa covered with gold velor and a table with dried flowers displaying tourist brochures to the left. It boded well for the rest of the building, they thought.

"Hi, we'd like three rooms for the night," Mr. Elsmore said as they approached the woman behind the check-in counter.

The clerk at the desk was a matronly lady with thick red hair who introduced herself as Mrs. Goodwin. She explained that this was their busy season and all they had available were two bedrooms, both with single beds. Down the hall from these was a bathroom with a shower, Mrs. Goodwin told them.

Andrew frowned as he handed his credit card to the woman behind the counter. "We'll take them," he said.

Andrew and Wendy trudged behind their parents, up the narrow stairs covered with brown carpet to the second story of the old house. The upstairs hallway was narrow and the plaster walls were painted a bright white. It looked rustic, but at least it was clean, Wendy thought to herself. Andrew gripped the green plastic key fob in his hand, looking at the numbers on the doors. When he found the door with a number eight fashioned out of wrought iron he stopped and pushed the key in the lock. The door opened with a click and a slight creak.

"Okay, we'll be across the hall if you need anything," Raymond said, unlocking the door to his and Claudia's room.

"We'll be fine," his son assured him. "Thanks, Dad." He gave him a forced smile.

Andrew walked in to the small bedroom, followed by his sister. It too was clean and tidy, like the rest of the inn, and had beige carpet. To his left Andrew saw two small beds covered with blue bedspreads. Between them was a pine night stand that was stained a dark oak colour. The night stand had a clock radio and a small lamp on it and a single drawer. To his right was a bureau with four drawers that looked like it was purchased at the same store as the night stand. It had a large mirror affixed to the back. On top of it were neatly folded white terrycloth towels and face cloths. Facing him was a window with white lace curtains that looked out on the bay. The golden rays of the setting sun beamed through the window. Andrew sighed and tossed his suitcase on the bed closest to the window.

"Well, this sucks royally," Wendy hissed. She laid her suitcase on the bed and sat down at the foot, looking glum.

"At least it's only for one night," her brother said, trying to sound optimistic.

"Yeah. I suppose it could be a lot worse," she conceded as she pulled a corner of her mouth up in a distorted smile.

Andrew surveyed the bedroom. It had no telephone and no television. Not even a small one with rabbit ears. He looked out of the window, frowning, watching waves roll in and break on the rocks at the water's edge.

"So I guess this is what Mennonites do for fun," Wendy remarked with a thin smile.

Andrew turned around to his sister and laughed. She was lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling with her hands folded over her flat stomach, feet dangling towards the floor. Her sandy blond hair was spread out beneath her on the blue bedspread. The hem of her light pink mini skirt lay against her tanned upper thighs, sagging slightly between them so Andrew could see their shape and size.

Between his sister's slightly parted thighs Andrew could see the vague shape of her mound, covered by the thin cotton of her skirt. Further up, he noticed how her firm breasts rose upward and pushed out at her navy blue tank top. His sister's breasts weren't especially large, but definitely more than decent handfuls. This Andrew had concluded long ago, having scanned his sister's bust the many times he had stolen glances at it, or caught sight of her cleavage as she bent over. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing.

Andrew felt his cock harden as he looked at her, fighting off mental images of kneeling between her legs and running his hands up her soft thighs as his mouth inched closer to her delicate petals.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Andrew checked his watch. "Almost eight," he told her.

Wendy raised up on her elbows and shifted her hazel eyes over her brother. She smiled, sensing his nervousness. It sent a rush of excitement through her. Spending the night here might be fun after all, she thought to herself as her clit jumped.

"Want to go out for a walk and look around?" she suggested. She sat up and pushed her thick hair back over her shoulders, but neglected to tug the hem of her skirt down.

"Like there's anything to see," he scoffed. "Just rocks and seagulls."

"It beats staying in here and staring at the walls," his sister said.

Andrew nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right."

Wendy got up from the bed and her brother followed her. He locked the door and they went down to the lobby. After being informed by Mrs. Goodwin that the front door would be unlocked until eleven, and after that they could use the doorbell to be let in, the siblings followed the cement walkway down to the road. A strong breeze was coming in from St. George's Bay. They could smell the salty air as it blew their hair about.

"Man, it gets chilly around here at night," Wendy lamented. She wrapped her arms around herself as they walked along. Her nipples had stiffened almost as soon as they had stepped outside, but she was glad. Her brother was sure to notice them eventually, if he hadn't already. She smiled at the thought of it. Her clit jumped and she began getting wet.

"Winters here must be brutal," Andrew added. He turned his head towards his sister, noticing how stiff her nipples had become. His eyes lingered on them. He pushed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, feeling his cock harden and kept walking.

About a half mile down the road they came to a wooden bench facing the bay. "Let's sit down for a while," Wendy suggested. She strode over to the bench and sat down, staring out at the setting sun. She leaned back and crossed her legs.

Andrew joined his sister. He kept his eyes focused out on the horizon, although he really wanted to steal another glance at her thick nipples, poking out at her tank top. When he felt her hip press against his right thigh he turned to look at her.

"Keep me warm, so I don't freeze to death." Her voice was soft and frail sounding. She took hold of his right hand and drew his arm around her, snuggling closer to him. "I should have brought a sweater," she said.

Andrew looked down at the top of his sister's head, resting on his shoulder. He could feel her shiver against him. His eyes ran down her bare arm and saw that chill bumps had appeared on her soft skin.

"We can go back if you want," he said. He had mixed feelings about this. He was enjoying holding Wendy, but it made him uneasy. They seldom embraced, and only for brief moments. And as much as he enjoyed it when they did, he always feared she would realize how much it turned him on. He often wondered if she did know, but said nothing to spare his feelings.

"I'm okay for a while, as long as you hold me," she said, then paused. "It's really pretty out here, isn't it?" She lifted her head and looked up at him.

"I guess," he grunted, looking down at the front of her tank top.

Wendy laughed. "I meant the sunset," she said. "But you seem more interested in my tits."

I wasn't looking there," he spat out defensively, making sure his eyes met hers now.

"Uh-huh... sure, little brother," Wendy scoffed. Her eyes were still on his but she was smiling, rather than seeming shocked or disgusted. She tilted her head down to take a look at her chest. "That wind really woke my nipples up, huh?" She chuckled and her eyes met his once more. They had turned impish, like her expression. The wind blew her hair about and her cheeks had grown pink.

"I... uh... I guess," Andrew said with a non-committal shrug. He gave her a tentative look from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, cut the crap, Andrew," she said, sounding annoyed now. "Quit acting innocent."

Her brother let out a nervous laugh.

"I know my boobs are small, but they're not invisible," she spat out.

Andrew couldn't help but smile at his sister's comment. He relaxed somewhat and turned to look at her, making sure his eyes remained above her shoulders. When he saw her amused expression his mood brightened. His arm was still around her, his hand resting on her right shoulder. Her body felt warmer now, and soft. Very soft. He slid his hand down until it was touching her bare arm so he could feel her skin on his. It felt wonderful and he wanted to feel more of her.

The sky was beginning to turn sapphire. It had grown colder too and Andrew wanted to get back to their room. When his sister spoke again, he was glad. "Let's go back," she said. "I'm freezing." She stood up, waiting for her brother.

The siblings walked back to Bayview Bed and Breakfast, more briskly than they had when they set out. They were mostly silent, each mulling over the new status quo between them. Mrs. Goodwin looked up from a Dean Koontz novel in her hands as they entered. She greeted them with a smile, then returned to her reading.

"I'm going to have a shower. Maybe that will warm me up," Wendy said as they entered their room. She began riffling through her suitcase and brought out an oversized maroon t-shirt. This was what she slept in most nights. She took one of the towels from the bureau and left the room.

Wendy walked down the hall to the bathroom, carrying her towel and t-shirt. She locked the bathroom door behind her and got undressed. Her hard nipples tingled and she ran her fingertips over them. She shuddered slightly, feeling her clit swell and pulse. She thought about her brother and wondered if he was as horny as she was, then concluded he probably was. At least she hoped so. Their conversation had made her want to get back so she would have the privacy of the shower to masturbate. Her panties had been damp for some time and she was glad to have them off. She ran her fingers through the thin strip of hair above her lips and pressed down on her clit. She clenched her jaw, fighting a loud moan as she spread her wetness over her lips.

The hot water cascading down Wendy's back as she shampooed her hair felt good. It warmed her and relaxed her tense muscles. She slid her soapy hand down her flat stomach and found her hard clit. She pressed her fingers between her folds and began to rub her pink button up and down. She closed her eyes and imagined Andrew watching her as she played with herself. When the first small orgasm coursed through her she clutched her left breast, tugging at the hard nipple roughly. She slipped two fingers in her tight, wet pussy, then spread her musky juice over her pulsing clit. She rubbed it faster, up and down. The image of her brother was still vivid in her mind and she wished he was there with her. Not just watching anymore, but helping her to cum. As the water splashed over her trembling body, Wendy brought herself to two more orgasms as she whispered her brother's name.

When Wendy returned to their room Andrew was lying on his stomach on the bed, listening to his iPod and flipping through a tourist magazine. He looked up at her and pulled the earbuds out, following her with his blue eyes.

Wendy noticed her brother's subtle stare and fought back a smile. If he kept that up, she would be wet again before long. She dropped her clothes beside the bed and sat down on it, facing Andrew. She began rubbing her wet hair with the towel. She could feel her breasts shake and her hard nipples rub over the inside of her maroon t-shirt. With the towel covering her head she couldn't see Andrew, but was certain that he was watching her.

Once she was finished drying her hair, Wendy tossed the damp towel over on the bureau. She looked at her brother. "Whatcha reading?" she asked.

Andrew held the cover of the magazine up for her to see. "Tourist crap," he said, looking over at her.

"Looks boring," she said, studying the photo of lobsters on the cover and wondering what he was thinking.

"It is. But it's either that, or the Bible that's in the nightstand." He placed the magazine back on the bed and flipped a page, then took another look over at his sister.

Wendy laughed. "I can't imagine being that bored," she said. She could practically feel his eyes on her nipples and wished it was his hands, or better yet, his lips instead. But with their parents right across the hall, nothing like that could happen tonight.

Wendy tugged the bedspread and covers down a ways. She propped the two pillows vertically against the headboard and leaned back on them. She crossed her legs at her ankles and ran her eyes up her thighs. She smiled to herself. Wendy had always considered her legs quite nice. They made up for her breasts not being as large as she'd like, or so she convinced herself. From the corner of her eye she could see her brother. His head was still buried in the magazine. She pinched a bit of her t-shirt between her fingers and slowly tugged at it, inching the hem higher over her soft thighs. She had not put panties back on after showering and could already feel herself getting a little wet again. She pressed her thighs together. The pressure on her clit felt good and she suppressed a shudder. Soon she would be wet enough for him to easily slide inside her. The thought of it made her want to slip her hand up under her t-shirt.

When Wendy heard someone knock on the door she jumped nervously. She got up and walked to the door, tugging the hem of her t-shirt down. "Who is it?" she asked nervously.

"It's me," her mother replied.

Andrew looked up from his magazine, moving his eyes over his sister's body. His erection pushed into the mattress. He couldn't hear what Wendy and their mother were talking about, but he thought that their mother looked slightly annoyed. Her mouth was tight and her blue eyes narrow.

"What did she want?" Andrew asked his sister after she'd closed and locked the door.

"She wanted to let us know that Dad wants to catch the ferry tomorrow morning at nine, so we better be up early and ready to go," his sister told him. She sat on the edge of her bed facing him and smirked. "Then she told me that I should be wearing something besides this t-shirt around you." She giggled and rolled her pretty eyes.

Andrew grew worried about what his mother might think or suspect. But this was mostly brought on by guilt over how horny he was from being around his sister. "What did you tell her?" he asked.

"I told her that I wear this to bed almost every night, and if they could have found a room for me, then you wouldn't be seeing me in it." Once she finished, Wendy gave him a smug grin.

Andrew laughed at his sister's defiance.

"She'd have a fit if she knew I wasn't wearing panties," Wendy added, pointedly. "As it was, she suggested I put a bra on. I think that was her real point."

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