tagIncest/TabooFellatio Isn't Incest, Is It?

Fellatio Isn't Incest, Is It?

byneonlyte©

The moral right of the author has been asserted. © "neonlyte"

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I trailed my fingers under my nose smelling the sweet nectar of orgasm luxuriant in the peace of the moment and slowly licked them clean out of habit. This week has been intense; confusion, struggling to rationalise morality and desire; actually, it's not desire, that implies a degree of choice, I should know, I'm a psychology undergraduate, what I crave is carnal, animalistic, almost out of my control. I should walk away from today before I cause irreversible damage but I don't have that resolve, the week's events made sure of that, I'm prepared to risk everything and I will know when to stop... I think.

I'd better tell you everything; forgive me if I ramble in places, oh, and try to ignore the two voices in my head, they insist on stating their opposing positions, I'm quite fond of them, I just wish they could agree on something and give me some peace. Today is Saturday, we, that is Carol, Simon and me, Fiona, are going to the National Nude Day gig at Bollingsworth House. I need to take you back to when all this started.


Simon and I were sitting at breakfast, we lived at our parent's home in the town where we both attended university, Carol, the best friend ever, had a studio apartment near the university bought for her by her parents who used to live next door when we were children growing up together. In the background the radio belted out the latest tunes and a string of announcements, I wasn't really listening. I was carefully shifting position to allow my dressing gown to open, just a little, to give Simon a glimpse of my breasts. He would have had to look hard, the damn fool things had budded then gone into arrest, I despaired of them ever being more than bumps crested by nipples. 'You're an idiot', the psychology student in my head whispered, 'twenty-one years old and trying to get your brother to look at your breasts', 'shut up' the other one said.

I got a buzz out of doing it, exposing myself to him, a habit formed in teenage years when Carol and I acted provocatively around Simon to see how long it took for his hard-on to show. That poor boy suffered, a tool of our capriciousness as we delved to discover the full extent of our control over males.

Carol, Simon and I had ages spanning eighteen months; as children we three were inseparable, as children of parents who grew up in the seventies, nudity in the paddling pool and shared baths was second nature, at least up until the time my breasts began to bud and snatched away 'the prize' just as we became sexually curious rather than just noticing we were different.

Early teenage years had been crap, Carol and I bonded even tighter, Simon, the youngest, was a gangly pain but a convenient target for discovery and Carol, forever smitten by him, had managed a few speculative encounters, rushing to me afterward, in the way that only girls will do, to tell everything of their tryst. We plotted, planned and schemed ways to exploit his adolescent sexuality and had our reward by the swelling in his pants, his embarrassment and awkward gait as he left a room trying to disguise his arousal. Carol had been Simon's 'girlfriend' so many times we had both lost count, the title rarely lasting the span of a day.

She had long been determined about one thing, when Simon lost his virginity it would be in her, we both agreed this would be the 'right thing' ever since we came to understand we were virgins and just how to discard the title; Carol and I were no longer virgins, the first six months at university had taken care of that with both of us leaning more toward disappointment of the deed rather than enjoyment, it left us with the feeling of being losers in a competition we hadn't realized we had entered. Simon wasn't the best looking boy but growing up with the pair of us had given him an urbane air that attracted girls. His casualness was a feint for a nervous disposition toward females, our merciless provocative acts had left him unsure of how to start a relationship, he rejected Carol's serious overtures as disingenuous, she had embarked a few months earlier upon a crusade of ridding him of his virgin tag. Now Simon had started dating, nothing serious or regular yet, but we both worried someone else would claim our prize and right there is the nub of the problem, 'our prize', though Carol would do it, the de-flowering, if that's what you call it for boys, I fully expected and demanded every single detail, and I was not going to be thwarted.

The psychology head resident and I realized Simon's problem was that he was getting all the sexual stimulation he required courtesy of the randy girl who shared my headspace. This wasn't physical sex, not unless our masturbating in separate bedrooms to the thought of the other, counts as physical sex, no; I know what the moral boundaries are. Since Carol had moved to her apartment a year or so ago, I had spent more time with Simon and my behavior, I will admit, has been far from perfect. In my defense, my actions are not entirely of my making; the bastard who took my virginity had just that one thing in mind, dumping me virtually the moment he'd triumphed, and leaving we wary of entering into casual relationships. The demands of my studies mitigate against the effort required to establish something more permanent making Simon the perfect foil for my rapaciousness, he is available, compliant, undemanding, and, above all, safe.

My head residents had settled on a rational of sorts, more in the way of an excuse to mask the encroachment upon an incestuous borderline, randy girl insisted that she knew when to stop. The rational goes something like this; we are both young adults intensely aware of our bodies and the tumult of sexual desire and intimacy brought fear and excitement in equal measure. We needed someone we could trust, someone who knew the boundaries to help contain and control our lust. We could play an unspoken game knowing we were safe one with the other until we found our true soul mates. Those were the rules; I'd not discussed them with Simon but thought he understood, it was so far and no further. I loved the very idea of him whacking off over glimpses of my body or my panties, mine was a special gift, and for just a while longer, I wanted this control over him.

Now you know. I got my sexual thrills from behaving outrageously around my brother and could barely wait to tell Carol exactly what I had done and how he had reacted. He blushed profusely when my eyes caught his stare at one part or another of my body; I had no desire to seduce, just control, and how I made sure I had control, I had him following me around the house like a pet; I was careless with my bedroom door, leaving a crack for him to peep through, I 'forgot' he was in, emerging from the bathroom dressing gown open, or just a towel around my waist hastily covering myself, once he had feasted his eyes. I left my secretion soiled panties where he could find them knowing just as soon as I was out of the house, he would have his nose buried in them, thingy in hand, whacking off. I know because I once crept round the house to his bedroom and peered through the window watching him masturbate, one hand holding my panties to his face, and tried to imagine his expression and thoughts as he sprayed across his stomach; I had him on a short leash. It was only in recent days that the thought of fully possessing him, having him fuck me, fuck me hard, and deep, and long, had disturbed my measured and calculated eroticism. This is how it began at breakfast.

"Shall we go Fi? There will be some good bands, we need a break from all this studying."

"What?" I asked, I'd not been paying attention.

"The gig on Saturday, at Bollingworth House, shall we go?"

"Oh that, I'm not sure. Carol wants to, I said I'd think about it, truth is I don't have a lot of cash to spare, got to pay car insurance this month."

"Come on. Lets all go, it will be fun. You know you can get in for free if you go in the nude."

"Simon!"

"What? It's National Nude Day on Saturday. If you go nude you can get in for free."

"I don't believe you and anyway if you think I'm wandering around naked in front of several thousand people you are very mistaken."

"God's truth. If you go nude, you can get in free. You have to wear body paint, to cover the obvious bits. Do you think Carol's up for it?"

"Enough! It's a stupid idea." I pulled my dressing gown tight hiding his view of my rapidly stiffening nipples, aware of sensations and rampaging emotions that I really should not be having over my muesli, and was quietly rewarded at the brief look of disappointment on his face as my breasts vanished from his gaze.

That was Tuesday, I'd been masturbating like crazy ever since, thoughts spiralling out of control, first just the idea of my brother looking at me naked, then me seeing him naked, then him mounting me on the cool grass under a spreading tree our bodies dappled in sunlight through the leaves as he thrust himself into me, my legs clutching him tight, filling me with the hot sweetness of his soul. That is what I had dreamt each night; it was as if I were a bird in the branches above looking down as Simons hips pumped against mine, my hands holding his head to my breasts, my feet hooked round his bottom urging him ever deeper into my body, and that is how I had awoken these last three mornings, my fingers doing Simon's job, my hand caressing my nipple and the exquisite relief of orgasm pitching me into wakefulness.

Trembling, vaguely aware of the morning, I wanted to prolong the dream and the pretence that the fingers massaging my slit were something else, his ...thingy; I couldn't even say the word but I shook at the very idea, it was enough to carry me to that breath-taking almost painful moment of ecstasy, hips bucking, head turned biting into the pillow so as not to scream as I pressed my fingers in and accepted the wild contractions.

I fanned my thighs spreading cool air across the sticky warmth of my cunny, finger tips soothing and caressing through the familiar series of after shocks that had my body twitching again, breasts quivering and my mind wondering if I could cum again even as I brought my fingers to where I could inspect them, admiring the strands of sticky secretion glazing them, spreading them to test the elasticity, smelling them and feeling the rush and finally tasting them while my other hand brought relief to a demanding and impatient nipple.

I stretched out on the bed straining every muscle awake, 'that's the third time this week, same dream' I thought, and involuntarily shivered at the licentious substance of the dream trying to dismiss familial constructs. The sane half of my head residents, psychology student, rationalized that recent events had triggered dormant desires, inquisitiveness built in formative years and the gig we were attending tomorrow, National Nude Day, had brought everything into the open with the risk of events spiraling out of control as witnessed by my dreams and insatiable desire to masturbate; 'pay no attention to her', said randy girl, the insatiable co-occupant, 'I've got it all under control', 'you wish,' the other snapped back. Carol, why did you have to pick this week of all weeks to be away on a course, I need you now! I rushed out of the house not wanting to see Simon this morning, I had lots to do and wanted to finish before Carol arrived back mid afternoon, I desperately needed to talk with her.

When I arrived home later Carol's car was parked outside, she sat inside talking with Simon who was blushing as usual from her attention. She was a good size or two bigger than me and presented Simon with tightly constrained breasts that bulged over the scooped neck of her top, they trembled as she spoke threatening to spill over and engulf him as she leaned forward. At the time her breasts formed and surged past mine in size I'd been briefly jealous, we had spent an age in each others bedrooms comparing, size, shape, nipples, I knew her breasts almost better than I knew my own.

I smiled inwardly aware of the game she was playing, seeing how long for the bulge to show in his shorts, and wondered for the umpteenth time if and when she was going to take his virginity. I'm sure all she would have to do was undress and he would tumble into her oblivious to everything except her hands, lips, breasts and cunny; but she didn't want to be so blatant, she wanted him to take the initiative. Earlier in the summer she nearly got her wish, I'd left them alone in the garden, Carol and I wanted to see how things would develop, how far he would go. We had been sun bathing, Simon had rolled onto his tummy to hide a stiffy caused by Carol innocently applying sun lotion to her breasts whilst sitting almost on top of him. Carol offered to do his back and had lowered her bikini-clad crutch onto his bottom and commenced working lotion across his shoulders, the poor boy came in his trunks as she rubbed her cunny across his bottom pretending to work in the lotion. 'How do you know?' I'd asked her when she came inside to tell me, 'His breathing caught and I could feel his whole body stiffened as he came', she'd replied, anxious as ever to share the details.

"Hello you two, I hope you're behaving yourselves." I said walking into the sitting room.

"Fiona, lets go to Bollingworth, it'll be fun." Carol said beaming up at me.

"Do you really want to go? I'm not sure I fancy a day of pop-music."

"Forget the music," Carol said, "Simon and I want to do the nude thing, we've been discussing body paint designs."

I looked at Simon who sheepishly had his hands held over his groin trying to disguise his clearly raised digit of approval for the plan.

"Carol, can we go in my room and discuss this."

Carol smiled at Simon and silently mouthed something then rose following me to my bedroom. She sprawled back on my bed.

"He is so wound up and excited it would be such a shame to disappoint him, I think I'm going succeed this weekend."

Carol could barely suppress her eagerness, I'm not sure if was the idea of being nude or the hope of getting him in bed.

"What did you whisper to him?" I asked Carol.

"I said I'd talk you into it." She grinned at me.

"I don't need talking into it." I replied. I'm more scared of what I might do once he gets his clothes off. I've been having these wild erotic dreams of Simon doing me ever since he mentioned Bollingworth at the beginning of the week. I think I'm going mad, I shouldn't be feeling like this, he's my brother!"

"No you shouldn't! He's becoming quite a hunk. He's filled out this past year... all over."

I couldn't help but smile, "How long did it take?" I asked her.

"What, to get a stiffy? About thirty seconds. When he opened the door, he literally gulped on seeing my breasts quivering, stood there with his mouth open. I gave him a big kiss, not too sexy, but leaning into him, flicked my tongue in his mouth and felt it stiffen against me; if his shorts had been any shorter I swear it would have peeped out of the leg."

"Carol, you are awful! Poor Simon. Are you really up for it? I can't stand the waiting, if he doesn't get laid, I'm afraid I will do it myself."

"Of course. I've always wanted to be his first, Bollingworth will be perfect, we can get excited and get used to each others nudity at the same time, we can go back to my place afterwards. I want it to be really special, I know he's your brother and we've all played around for years but he is very special to me, I love him like a brother, but I want him inside me and having got that out of the way, I want to know if I can love him more. On the other hand, you, my darling girl, have a serious problem. You have got to stop this fantasy, it's messing with your head."

"You don't need to remind me. I need to find someone to take my mind off him."

"What's the problem, you've had plenty of dates; loads of guys want to go out with you."

"I don't know Carol. This week, the dreams I've had, they have been so vivid. When I look at another guy I immediately compare him with Simon. I know I shouldn't and I know nothing is going to happen between us, I'd be mortified, he just makes my insides squirm like no one else. It's madness."

"Why don't you come and stay with me for a while, get out of his space."

"That's a nice thought, thank you sweety. What about this weekend, what if you and Simon hit it off, maybe he'll be the one moving in."

"Fi, lets do this nude thing. Lets have a wild weekend and blow these fantasies of yours to smithereens. Nothing immoral will happen, he's mine, but we can be a bit naughty and fool around and then you have to go home and stop this nonsense. Come on, what do you say, what's the worst that can happen, a little bit of embarrassment, maybe a bit of touching. I'll make sure it doesn't get out of hand."

"No, I can't do that! Just the thought of seeing his thingy makes me wet."

"So what? I make you wet, you make me wet, we both know that, Lord knows we used to play around enough. I remember when you taught me how to masturbate then forced me to practice on you. Are we embarrassed with each other? Hell no. I love you passionately, both of you, and nothing is going to happen to spoil our relationship. We should just enjoy the weekend, have fun, get it out of your system, and then find you a bloke."

The randy girl and the psychologist were fighting it out in my head, I listened to their exchanges swayed by Carol's insistence that it would be ok and took a deep breath.

"Ok, lets do it!" I said.

'You idiot!' the psychologist screamed, 'Don't ask me for any more advice if you're just going to ignore it, I'm not going to be held to account over this.' The other one was smug, preening herself for having got her way. Carol and I went and joined Simon and told him our decision.

Last night I must have orgasmed four or five times, I lost count, never sure if I was dreaming or awake. Part was the excitement of the coming day; part was the pure pleasure of seeing Simon's face when we told him Carol and I would go nude if he would. You could see the confusion in his eyes, not sure which one of us to look at, which one he wanted to see more. I'd made up my mind I could do this, it would be my final gift to him, I wanted to make myself as delectable as possible for this last time. He wouldn't see me, any bit of me, naked again...ever. It's time to for me grow up and move on. It's so easy to find an excuse to by-pass moral conformity, you really don't have to look very hard.

Simon and I would go to Carol's to apply the body paint, we hadn't really discussed how we were going to do that; I knew one thing for sure, there would be a lot of touching, a lot of close examination, and a lot of secretions I knew I wouldn't be able to stop flowing; just the thought of that had me climaxing during the night.

I hauled myself out of bed desperately wanting to get on with the day, showered and shaved my pubis to leave a tuft of ginger hair just above my slit inspecting myself in the mirror from every angle until I was satisfied with the result. I eased a tampon inside tucking the tail up out of sight deciding that was the best way to stop me betraying my desire, remembering the passage from Anais Nin's tale of Bijou the Parisien, a prostitute who marked her passage at an orgy with a trail of sperm; then rubbed as much sun lotion as I could where I could reach.

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