tagIncest/TabooChelsea Rising

Chelsea Rising


Chelsea Rising

This story is a little longer than the others I have written so far, as it spends a little time building up the background. If you enjoy it, please don't forget to leave a brief comment at the end. All characters are fictitious and all are over the age of 18.


My parents are not stinking rich, but we have enough to get by. This includes a week at a seaside resort every year, usually the same one. This suits the family as we can all pursue our individual interests - especially my parents who like to go to the nearest big town and do cultural stuff which they can't do out in the country where we normally live.

For the last few years since we have managed to get a three bedroom chalet at the local tourist park. Mum and Dad have the double room and my twin sister Chelsea and I each get a single. My elder brother William isn't with us any more, so there's just the four of us. We pretty much spend the week doing our own thing - for me, usually scuba diving or surfing during the day, and hanging out in town in the evening in the hope of getting laid. I have to say that my success rate is patchy, though. Some guys have the gift and others don't.

Chelsea usually spends her time lying on the beach or shopping. She doesn't seem to have much interest in guys, which is surprising, as she has a knockout figure. She's OK in the looks department too, thankfully taking after Mum. She's a natural blonde...sort of dark honey coloured hair that is cut like Cleopatra used to wear hers - you know, a fringe across her brow and hanging straight down either side of her face, just curling inwards a bit at the nape of her neck. She's got grey eyes that you could lose yourself in, and a pair of lips that look like they were made for everything that gives a guy pleasure. When she's in a good mood, which is most of the time, she's a really fun person to be around. When she's not, watch out! She's got a sharp mind and a sharp mouth and can cut you to pieces before you've even figured out that she's pissed off. She's quite a private person, though, happy to spend an evening reading a book rather than go out on the town. She's a thinker, too - sometimes she'll just sit for hours lost in thought, which suits her job as a teacher.

My parents are in their late 50's and pretty liberal, despite being academics at heart. They pretty much leave us alone provided that we let them know where we are going and what time to expect us back. Most of the holidays they are away, looking at museums and doing theatre shows two hours up the road.

Anyway, this year the routine had to change. Because of work commitments we had to go a month earlier than usual, and our usual beach chalet was out for maintenance. We had to settle for a two-bedroom model, which meant that Mum and Dad were OK, but Chelsea and I had to share a room and it was pretty cramped. It had a double bed that looked more like a one-and-a-half bed to me, and a single fold-up pushed against one wall.

"Not much space." I observed as we walked into the room. That was the understatement of the year. The remaining floor area was rather less than the two beds that occupied it.

"Not much privacy, either" Chelsea looked at me. "I guess we might see a bit more of each other than we do at home." She flung herself on the bigger bed and bounced on the mattress. "Still, the bed's OK."

I took my mind off the sight of her breasts bouncing inside her blouse. "Not so fast. What makes you think that you're getting the bigger bed?"

"I'm a girl. I get first choice."

I lay on the single bed and twisted my head around so that I could see her. "There's a little problem here, Chelsea." I wiggled my feet that were sticking out a good 6 inches past the end of the bed. "This bed would fit you - but it sure as hell doesn't work for me."

"That's your problem for being so tall." She laughed. "How about we cut off your head? That way you'd fit without any problem and lose ten pounds of ugly fat."

"Very funny." I paused, waiting for her to volunteer to switch beds but she was quiet. "Well, how about it?"

She looked at my feet hanging off the bed. "What's in it for me?"

"I'll be nice to you for the whole week."

"Not enough. How about three IOUs?" These were credits that could be cashed in for jobs or good turns. If I agreed she could ask me to do stuff for her that I wouldn't otherwise do, like her turn at the washing up, or a drive into town late at night.

"OK. Nothing unreasonable, though."

We swapped over and she lay down on the little bed. "Actually, it's not too bad. Mattress is a bit thin, but I'll manage." She smiled at me. "You got suckered in. I would have given it to you for nothing."

"And I might renege on my IOUs." I looked at her, lying on the bed only three or four feet away, and I wondered how we would cope with being that close for the next seven nights. "Come on, let's go and see if anything's changed around here since last year."


We soon found that quite a lot had changed because we were a month ahead of the holiday season. Lots of places were still closed, and the town was half empty. We had a couple of drinks in the local bar and headed back to the chalet. By the time we arrived a chill wind had set in and there was a smell of rain in the air.

That night I turned in a little earlier than Chelsea and was in bed by the time she entered the room. She turned off the light but there was sufficient illumination from a nearby street light for me to see her clearly. She leaned over the bed and peered into my face to see if I had my eyes open. "Are you awake?"


"I thought so. I'm going to change into my nightie. No peeping!"


I'd never thought of my sister sexually, but I had often thought that she had a great body and I enjoyed looking at it. I pretended to shut my eyes but I watched her as she unbuttoned her top and shucked off her jeans. She stood beside her bed wearing only a bra and a skimpy pair of knickers. I watched her moving, bending over to put her clothes on the bedside chair, then brushing out her hair, her movements graceful. At length she put down the brush and then looked over at my bed to see if I was looking; then, satisfied that I was not, she pulled her nightie over her head and then slipped off her underclothes from underneath it. She padded over to the window, opening it a little, and for a moment the material of her nightgown was translucent and I could see the juncture of her thighs and the swell of her mound silhouetted against the frame of light entering the room.

She slipped back to her bed and I heard the creak of her bedsprings, and her sigh of pleasure as she relaxed. After a moment she spoke.



"Thanks for tonight."

"It was pretty quiet, but you're welcome."

"It's funny sharing a room with you again....it takes me back to when I was little."

"Yeah. That was a long time ago."

"I used to be frightened of the dark. I liked having you there."

"I know. You're not frightened by it now, are you?"

"Not really." She was silent for a while, and then she added, shyly, "but I still like having you here."

"I like it too, Chelsea. Goodnight."


I thought about what I had said, and I realised that it was true - I did like having her nearby. I imagined her in that little bed just a few feet away, squished in, warm and cosy. I thought about what I had seen as she undressed for bed, how trim she was; the swell of her breasts, and the white of her panties against her smooth dark skin. I looked across the room and I could see them lying on the floor, a pale blur against the dark carpet. I imagined they would still be warm from her body and fragrant with the smell of her skin. It was a disquieting thought, and it lingered in my brain as I dropped off to sleep.

I woke suddenly in the night. It was pitch black, and the wind had risen. It was whistling around the little cottage, rattling the shutters, and the window above me had come off the latch. I slipped out of bed and secured the window, glancing outside, but there was nothing to see. I moved across the room to check on Chelsea but there was no sound from her bed and she was covered over. As I turned away my feet touched a scrap of material on the floor and I remembered what it was.

I picked them up and took them back to my bed, and secure in the darkness I pressed the scrap of lacy fabric to my face. There was a fragrance, faint but unmistakable, of her perfume, of the body talc that I'd seen in the bathroom, and of.....her pussy. The aroma of a woman, rich and aromatic. I breathed it in, feeling like a thief, imagining what was inside her panties when she was wearing them - the swell of her buttocks, her tight slit; the soft, golden hair, the moist lips. I had seen how petite her body was, and I could imagine how tight she would be. I reached down and began to stroke myself, thinking of how she would feel.

And then with a start of guilt I realised what I was doing. She was my sister for God's sake! I thrust her panties under my pillow and took my hand away from my cock, forcing myself to think of other things, listening to the wind, planning what tomorrow would bring. At length I drifted off to sleep again, but it was disturbed by dreams of how she had looked and the unforgettable scent of her body.

The sound of the rain on the metal roof woke me for the second time, a relentless, drumming roar that filled the room. I realised that the temperature had dropped, and there was a damp chill to the air. A flash of lightening suddenly illuminated the room, throwing everything into stark relief for an instant. It was followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder, like the tearing of a huge calico sheet in the air above us, awesome in its power. I could actually feel its intensity, my body vibrating in sympathy, diaphragm contracting, driving the air from my lungs. I lay in bed, gasping, my senses dulled by its volume - and suddenly Chelsea was with me. She flung back the bedclothes and wrapped herself around me, trembling with fear, clasping me tight, her face pressed into the hollow of my shoulder. I reached over and pulled the covers back over us, and I stroked her hair.

"It's alright, Chelsea. It's only a thunderstorm. We're safe. We're OK."

Her arms were around me, pulling me into her in desperation. She was trembling with fear, whimpering with each crash of thunder. I stroked her head and the nape of her neck, whispering quietly as the storm raged over us, until the interval between the lightening and the thunder drew out, and its violence subsided.

She gradually relaxed and warmth returned to her body. At length she spoke, her voice muffled. "Were you awake, Ben?"

"Yeah. The storm woke me up just before you joined me."

"Sorry about that. I didn't know what the hell it was. I thought the house was blowing up. Jesus, I was scared!"

"It was pretty loud."

She was quiet, listening to the storm as it moved away. "Will it come back, do you think?"


" Could I stay here a while?"

"Of course. Roll over."

She rolled over so that her back was to me, and I spooned against her, my arm over her body, reaching for and holding her hand. Her buttocks were pushed back, hard against me, my knees bent so that I followed the contours of her body. My face was lodged against the nape of her neck and I could smell her - the crisp essence of her hair, the fragrance of her perfume and the warm tang of her skin. My cock stirred and I pulled my hips back so that she would not feel me.

She mumbled in protest and pushed back, following me, her buttocks pushing against me lightly so that they rested against my erection. I felt her go still, but she didn't say anything.

I was embarrassed, but it didn't stop me being aroused by her warmth and the smell and feel of her body against me. She was so beautiful. I thought about how she had looked yesterday when I was with her, her blonde hair swishing around her face, skin shining with health and vitality and her mouth laughing, pink lips and white teeth, eyes crinkling as she looked up in to my face. I thought of the way she moved, long and lithe, and how she put her head on one side when she was thinking.

I remembered how the material of her nightie had pressed against her breasts, her nipples pushing outwards in sharp relief; and the smooth sweep of her legs, perfectly shaped, the skin gleaming softly in the moonlight. I re-lived that tantalizing moment last night when she had crossed the window and I could see the curve of her waist through the translucent fabric of her gown, and the delicious shadows at the juncture of her thighs. I felt my heart twist with the intensity of my feeling. She was amazing...perfect, and now she was in my bed, her body so hot against me, her lips and her breasts and her pussy only inches from my fingers. If she would let me I could touch any part of her simply by stretching out my arm. How could I not be aroused?

But I knew in my heart that I could never have her, and that she would be repelled if she even suspected what I was thinking. So I lay in bed as horny as a toad and held her to me, willing myself not to move. After a while I heard her soft, even breathing and not long after that I drifted off to sleep.


When I opened my eyes the sun was streaming in through the grimy little window and Chelsea was looking at me. I had rolled onto my side during the night and she was pressed against me, face to face, one arm on my waist and the warmth of her body close.

She saw that I was awake. "Morning."

She was looking directly at me with a steady gaze, and her eyes were the colour of a lake just before sunrise. I smiled at her and brought my hand to her face, my fingers gently brushing aside the curtain of her hair where it had fallen forward a little over one eye. I moved my fingers downwards, tracking lightly across one cheek, tracing the lovely line of her mouth, the angle of her jaw and then down over the soft white skin of her neck to where the little whorls of golden hair began at the nape of her neck. After a moment I moved down, my fingers barely in contact with her skin, down to the hollow at the base of her neck; then further, to where the soft swell of her left breast started. She reached up and covered my hand and held me, my hand trapped between hers and the gossamer silk of her nightie. I could feel the heat of her, radiating outwards.

After a moment she lifted my hand away from her body but she kept hold of it, her fingers twining with mine. We were quiet for a time, each savouring this unexpected intimacy between us.

After a while I spoke quietly. "You OK?"

"Yeah, I think so. " She hesitated. "I'm sorry about last night. I must have startled you."

"Don't worry about it."

"I don't normally jump into a guy's bed that quickly."

"Glad to hear it. I don't mind, really." I smiled at her. "Just out of interest, how long does it normally take you to jump into a guy's bed?"

She laughed, her eyes crinkling up. "Depends on the incentive."

"I guess you've had lots of guys, then."

"Probably not as many has you have had girls." She changed the subject. "I must say that your bed is more comfortable than mine. That mattress is like a sheet of cardboard."

"I'd be happy to share mine with you."

She looked at me in surprise. "Really? Aren't you....uncomfortable? Me being your sister, I mean."

"No. I like having you here."

"That's a nice thing to say, Ben. It really wouldn't be right for us to share a bed, though, would it?"

"Why not? It's not like we're doing anything - well, apart from holding hands that is."

She released me as if she had been holding a hot skillet. "That's my point...it might lead to something." She looked at me, coyly. "I think that being together like this makes us forget who we are. It would be easy to forget."

She was watching me with those cool grey eyes and I found myself flushing, thinking of my monumental hard-on pressed up against her in the night. I'd been hoping that she hadn't noticed, but clearly she had.

"I'm sorry - it's just that..."

"What?". She was smiling now and I knew that she was teasing, but it didn't help my confusion at having to explain to my sister why she had given me a raging hard-on.

"Well, you know...it's just that -"

She stopped my words with gentle fingers against my lips. "There's no need to say anything," she said. "I know. And that's why."

I nodded, looking at her without saying anything.

"OK, then," she said. "Since we can't be in here together, you should get out and make me a cup of tea."

And so I did.


Up until then we'd always been content to go off and do our own thing, but our new found intimacy seemed to change things. That morning we went snorkeling together, marveling at the myriad of colours on the coral reef, delighting in the warm caress of the water and the warmth of the sun on our backs. She wore a little red bikini and her body was sleek as she dived down to the sandy bottom to fetch a shell or a bright piece of coral. She would bring it to me, her mouth laughing and her eyes shining with delight. She would put her hand on my shoulder or arm as we trod water, and we were both conscious of the contact; and then she would drop the little offering, watching it spiral down to the sea bed before she turned away to find something else.

Afterwards we lay on our towels in a secluded little cove just off the main beach, drying ourselves in the sun. She was on her back with her eyes closed against the glare, and I watched her surreptitiously from under my eyelashes, looking at the swell of her breasts under her bikini and the way her nipples pushed up against the fabric. Her skin was golden brown, dusted with sand and salt, and her stomach was flat, leading down to the brief triangle of her bikini bottoms that were stretched tight over her mound. I thought I could see a faint crease in the material where it revealed the contours of her body, and the material there was darker than its surrounds, suggesting that she was damp. I felt a tightness in my belly as I imagined her sex hidden under the fabric like an exotic flower, its petals opening in the warmth of the sun and a drop of nectar oozing from its rich pink centre. I wondered how she would taste, and whether she would be as tight as I imagined. My cock stirred, moving rapidly at the imagery.

She must have sensed my scrutiny.



"You were giving me the eye."

"If you mean I was looking at you, then I plead guilty." I let my eyes linger on her for a few moments longer, and I could feel my heart beating. I didn't want this conversation to stop, but I was not sure what to say. I finally found some words, my voice a little breathless. "You are worth looking at, Chelsea."

She rolled over and regarded me. "Really?"

I moved my hand quickly over my groin so that she wouldn't see that I was hard, nodding whilst I tried to gather my thoughts. "R-really. That swimming costume is a knockout."

She smiled. "So you're a fashion guru now. It must be a really great design...its got you sort of....excited again."

"I...um. It wasn't you. I just ....get like that sometimes." I could not meet her gaze.

"Really? That's twice you've got like that when I'm near you. I was getting the idea it was because of me. What a pity." She was silent for a while and I was aware of her eyes on my face, waiting for me to say something, then she reached over and touched me gently on my arm. Her touch was electric. "Ben. I'm only teasing. It's OK...I get like that too, sometimes."

I couldn't meet her gaze. "Really? I didn't know that girls could."

"You know what I mean." She tugged at my arm gently. "If I caused it, I'm flattered. Don't be embarrassed. Let me see."

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