Hat Trick Ch. 02

An Oedipus County Tale

This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, and the actions contained herein should not be duplicated. It's all pretend, folks. The build-up is even longer this time.

*

It had been two weeks since I fucked Ashley, and I was still trying to get used to the idea.

Yeah, it was amazing. Hell, it was the best sex I'd ever had in my short life. Wildest, most uninhibited, most mind-blowing, too. It didn't hurt that Ashley was one of the most beautiful women I'd ever laid eyes upon, but whenever I'd let the idea swirl around in my head, it kept coming back to one inescapable, inexcusable fact:

Ashley is my sister.

I'm not the religious type, nor from Appalachia, but I am pretty sure you go straight to Hell for doing that sort of thing. More importantly, for wanting to do it again. And again. And again.

That first morning after doing the deed had proved less awkward than would have expected. Maybe it was because I woke up with my cock in her mouth, throbbing squirts of precum onto her tongue while she hollowed her cheeks and swallowed me deep. "Awkward" really isn't part of your vocabulary at a time like that. When she saw I was awake, she released me with a throaty giggle and then dragged her gorgeous body up across mine and we fucked again. Long and slow and sensual this time, with none of the frenzy and force of the previous night. What it lacked in physical intensity, it made up for on the emotional end. As my orgasm crested and I shot my load deep into Ashley's pussy, her body thrashing beneath me as her own climax took her, I realized I was falling in love with her.

Which is just crazy, for the reason previously mentioned. I mean, c'mon. Fuck your sister, sure, but fall in love with her? That's insane!

That was sarcasm, in case you missed it.

I had to leave for home that day, but we got in one more quick fuck between showering and getting lunch. Ash didn't make me wait in the lounge while she changed that time, and as soon as her bathrobe dropped to the floor and her nude body, freshly scrubbed, pink and clean, showed itself, I pounced. She let me, or maybe that was her design all along, because she had me fucking her doggy-style against the bureau. Each time I slammed home within her, she'd gasp out, "Fuck me, bro," to urge me on.

Lunch wasn't strained or awkward, either. Somehow, in public, we kind of slid back into the old sibling roles. If we sat a little closer together than usual, or touched one another more often than we used to, well, it wasn't all that strange, really. 'Course, I had no idea what her neighbors at the dorm might think of the situation -- it's not like we were all that quiet, and she did introduce me to a few of them as her brother.

Later, while I leaned against my car door preparing to leave, we had a long and searing kiss that seemed to go on for hours and left my knees a little wobbly. Ashley was flushed and breathing heavily when we broke apart as well, and she dropped a hand to my crotch before I slid into the car. "Take care of that for me, Matty," she said with a wicked grin. "Thanksgiving break, I'm going to give it a work out you won't believe." Then she kissed me again, more chastely this time, and said, "Careful driving, little brother."

In a swirl of perfume and salacious laughter she was gone. I had nothing but a three hour drive down the coast to look forward to, and a return to the modest home I now only shared with my Mom. I'd missed Ashley before, of course. When we were kids we'd never been all that close, but that changed when the cancer took Dad. We were a hell of a lot closer now. Too close. It could only get worse, I knew. Once you tasted the forbidden fruit, nothing else tasted quite as sweet.

I did have Thanksgiving break to look forward to, though. My mind went wild with the possibilities on the drive home. Halfway there, the guilt reared its ugly head. Incest. That's not something you just walk away from. And what would happen if Mom found out? She'd die. Then she'd kill both of us. Twice.

This was going to be the most illicit affair anyone had ever attempted. And without once discussing it between ourselves, Ash and I knew this was not an isolated incident. This was something that we would have to do for a while now. Maybe we'd never stop. Who could say? All I knew was that sex that good could not be given up, not for any reason. Even if, and maybe especially if, the reason not to do it in the first place made it all the more amazing in the end. Then I'd start to feel guilty again. Then I'd remember Ashley's lips on my cock, the pliant, plush feel of her breasts beneath my hands, the lust in her warm hazel eyes, and I'd spiral off into rationalizations once more.

Those two weeks passed in a kind of fog like that, as I wobbled between the two extremes. I wasn't getting enough sleep. I wasn't eating enough. My grades started to suffer. Worse, football started to suffer. Coach Zimmerman actually benched me during a game, then screamed at me in the locker room. Something about getting my head out of my ass and back into the game. He didn't really help. Nor did the occasional e-mails from Ash. Or the breathy messages she'd leave on my voice mail. Or getting a text message from her in the middle of study.

I was going crazy, and I couldn't tell anybody what was going on. Ash was so blase about the whole thing, I couldn't turn to her. Plus, with my cock doing most of the thinking anyway, I knew flipping out on her was the number one way to lose my special privileges, and I didn't want that. Not just yet. Mom knew something was up, but either she just assumed it was normal male teenage adolescent bullshit, or else she had her mind occupied with her own problems.

Mom had plenty to worry about, to be sure. Running the construction business she and Dad started, which kept me in football jerseys and Ashley at school, was no mean thing. When Dad was there to be the front man, Mom could be in the background and be the brains and raise us kids. Not that Dad wasn't capable, or Mom had no charisma, but sexism had never really left the construction business. Most people who hired skilled laborers expected a weather-beaten, broad shouldered man with a tool belt, not a statuesque blonde with a physique out of Playboy and a Masters from Berkeley. With Dad gone, Mom had to work not only her old job, but his as well, and that meant being a lot tougher, smarter, and personable than Dad had ever had to be.

That didn't leave her a lot of time to spend with Ash and I. We didn't resent it, though. We were old enough when Dad passed to understand, and eventually Mom confessed that she was working so hard partly to keep Dad's ghost at bay, and partly to keep alive the dream they had shared. We didn't mind, and we did our part, too. Ash was going for her own Masters in business, and I'd worked a few sites over the past couple summers. Poole Construction was something we all believed in, and if Mom kind of disappeared a little bit while she kept the business afloat, well, we could deal.

Not that the business was her only concern during those two weeks. She was also fretting about her sister coming to visit for a few days.

Mom is the oldest of the Jorgensen girls. Dawn is the youngest, and Jan was the middle child. The Jorgensen girls were never particularly close, as near as I was ever able to tell, and there was always a kind of sibling rivalry going on among them that even when I was a child I noticed. Didn't quite understand what it was, but I did know enough to recognize the signs of stress Mom would exhibit whenever the extended family got together. It had something to do with Jan being a high powered lawyer pulling down six figures, and Dawn being a successful artist, and Mom working construction. There was always that feeling that Mom had never done quite as well as the others did, even after Jan's husband left her and Dawn stared traipsing around the globe like a hippie.

That side of the family had kind of drifted apart over the last few years. The last time I saw any of them had been at Dad's funeral, and that was before high school. We'd get birthday cards and Christmas gifts, and Ashley even went to visit Aunt Dawn in New York once, but mostly we went our separate ways. Which I thought was okay with Mom, until the fiasco from last year happened. My cousin Bill, Jan's son, got married. None of us were invited. Again, big deal. But Mom was a little ticked off.

So then there was a year of silence and fury and resentment and hard feelings, the way only sisters can behave, until Aunt Jan extended an olive branch and things started to settle down. This was all stuff that Ashley had to explain to me, for the most part. It was a little below my radar until she pointed it all out to me.

The upshot of all this nonsense was that, to seal the peace, Aunt Jan was coming up to see her older sister, bury the hatchet, and spend some time with us. Apparently Bill and his bride would be busy with other things, but Mom made ominous sounds about us all getting together for the holidays again, just like old times. As if having just Mom around wouldn't complicate matters enough for Ash and I.

Then Aunt Jan arrived and all my nebulous plans and half-voiced fears went up in smoke.

I came home from football practice on a Friday afternoon, and was just dragging my duffel bag out of the trunk of my car when Mom's SUV pulled into the drive behind me and the two oldest Jorgensen girls spilled out of the truck, laughing and carrying on as if the last year hadn't happened. I paused and let the duffel bag slip out of my hands, watching Mom and Aunt Jan. I was reminded that Ashley's beauty ran in the family.

Mom made it to the other side of forty years ago, but you'd hardly know it to look at her. Tall and long-limbed, she keeps her blonde hair in a close cropped, slightly curled mane that frames high cheek bones, full lips, a proud nose, and bright blue eyes. There are crow's feet and laugh lines and a bit of sun damage, but those are the badges of a life well-lived. She is beautiful, but it's a mature beauty, honest and without pretense. She's kept in excellent shape, and though she isn't as trim as she was in her wedding pictures, she's got a lush, full, maternal frame. Generous breasts, broad hips, plush ass. That afternoon she wore a pair of tight jeans and loose blue workshirt over a white halter top that barely restrained her heavy tits.

Beside her, Aunt Jan fairly towered at just over six feet. She shared Mom's coloring and general features, the blonde hair and blue eyes, the hourglass figure and the natural beauty. Jan wore her hair long, tied back into a French braid, and the gold-rimmed glasses and business suit gave her a professional look, only slightly frazzled by the plane trip and reunion. Jan has an athletic build, sleek bodied and well muscled, with a bronze tan incongruous with her Nordic heritage. She possessed a kind of glow, an indefinable spark of energy that made her appear younger than she was, tantalizing and attractive.

I found myself wondering about tan lines. . . and mentally slapped myself. This was my mother and my aunt I was ogling. It was like fucking Ashley had unleashed some horrible, incestuous floodgates and I was incapable of looking at a relative without undressing her in my head.

"Hey baby," Mom said as she bounced up the driveway. "You remember your Aunt Jan, don't you?"

Jan approached with her arms open. "Oh my God, Matthew?" she said as she drew close. "You've grown so big!" As we embraced, I noticed that her heels actually made her a little taller than me. It made me slightly uncomfortable, almost as uncomfortable as the erection growing in my shorts. I broke the embrace as quickly as I could without offending Jan. She gave me an appraising look that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and turned to Mom. "This one is a heartbreaker. I bet you have to drive off the girls."

Mom laughed. "He gets his share, I'm sure." She looked at me shrewdly. "He's got his mind set on someone new at the moment, but he's keeping tightlipped about her."

I paled. Mom was far more observant than I assumed. "Well, I...um... can I get your luggage, Jan?" I stammered, hoping to change the subject.

Jan tittered. "I didn't think it was possible for him to get cuter. What's her name, Matthew?"

Mom tugged at Jan's arm. "Let the boy be, Jan." To me, she added, "If you would, Matty. Just throw her bags in the guest room." She guided Jan towards the house and I headed for the trunk of the SUV. As I rounded the back end, something made me look behind me, and I saw Mom and Jan on the porch, about to enter the house. While Mom unlocked the door, Jan looked over her shoulder at me, an odd light in her eyes. I ducked around the SUV and tried to think clean thoughts.

I carried Jan's bags in, then went back out for my own. While the women bustled about in the family room and kitchen, I took a long hot post-practice shower. My usual mental porno started playing in my head as I washed, and I gave my dick a few absent strokes while I thought of Ashley. About halfway through the show, my mind wandered into different territory, and I started thinking about how Jan's lips would taste, how her tits would feel in my hand, what she'd look like with my dick in her mouth, whether she swallowed or not, and... I forced myself to stop. This was sick and wrong. Not simply because Jan was family, but because I was already involved, more or less, with Ashley.

I stepped out of the shower unfulfilled, feeling confused and guilty. A migraine threatened to blossom between my eyes. My stomach growled, and I decided food would help. After dressing in a t-shirt and sweats, I went to the kitchen.

Mom and Jan had started making dinner. That wasn't necessary; I actually cooked most nights, but it was nice to see. There was lemon chicken in the oven, asparagus and rice on the stove, and Jan was throwing together a salad while Mom perused a photo album at the kitchen table. It turned out to be my cousin Bill's wedding album.

I poured myself a glass of milk and joined Mom at the table, at her urging, to take a look at the pictures. I couldn't hold back a wolf whistle when I saw the bride. My cousin lucked out big time. This Karen of his was a dynamite stone cold fox, with an amazing bust and supermodel looks. The bridesmaids weren't hard to look at either, even if their yellow gowns were a bit garish, the way bridesmaids dresses always are. The one Jan identified as Lena looked vaguely familiar, and I was about to say as much when a synapse fired and I realized I'd seen her in a porno once. I kept my mouth shut.

"We did want you all to be there," Jan explained while she diced tomatoes. "But it turned out to be a kind of spur of the moment kind of thing, when all is done and said. Karen isn't really... in touch with her family, for a variety of reasons, so Bill felt it wouldn't be fair to her to swell the ranks of the invited with the Jorgensen clan. They decided on a small ceremony, we used our house. They spent most of their money on the honeymoon. Crazy kids took off to Hawaii for two weeks."

"She's absolutely gorgeous," Mom said. "Where did you say they met?"

"It's kind of a funny story, actually. Karen and I took a class together and became friends, and then when she needed to cut some corners and move out of her place, I rented her a room. Nature kind of took its course, after that." Jan smiled wistfully. "The two of them were made for each other."

"I know that feeling," Mom said, her tone similar. I looked at her sharply, but her eyes were unfocused.

"I remember," Jan agreed. She joined us at the table, smoothing the back of her skirt as she sat down. She'd divested herself of her suit jacket, and the top few buttons of her pink blouse were unbuttoned, flashing a hint of cleavage. "You know, Matthew is the spitting image of Gregory at that age."

Mom's eyes fell on my, focusing sharply. "Hmmm," she said noncommittally. I'd been told before I looked like Dad, though not recently. I shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny.

"So when do we meet the couple?" I asked, bringing everyone's attention back to the album.

"Christmas, I hope," Jan said. "They're both busy with school right now, but we want to have everyone down to our place for the holidays. I think we might even be able to convince Dawn to make an appearance."

Mom turned an album page. "Like old times."

Jan reached across the table and took Mom's hand. "No," she admitted. "Different. But maybe better." She paused. "In a year or two, the family may be bigger yet."

Mom looked up, laughing. "Oh? I can tell just looking at these pictures that Bill and Karen must be trying very hard to start a family of their own."

Jan laughed too. "Well, yes. But they can't do it the old fashioned way. Karen can't have children. She was... well, she was abused as a child." I heard Mom make sympathetic noises while an icy fist wrapped around my heart. "They're hoping to adopt," Jan continued, "but Bill's still in school, and I'm not sure they're ready, and..." Jan kept talking, but I tuned her out. My latent guilt flared to life, and what Ashley and I had done seemed more wrong than ever before. Incest is volatile stuff, the kind of thing that destroys lives and families.

Somehow I made it through dinner. I don't remember how much I ate or what we talked about, or even if I participated. But I do remember escaping to my room soon after the dishes were cleared. Mom and Jan broke out a bottle of wine and moved into the family room, chattering about everything and nothing. I'm not sure they noticed I was gone.

I saw my phone on my bureau, the flickering light denoting a message waiting for me. It was Ashley, her voice low and breathy. "Hey little brother. Missing you, missing what you do to me, how you make me feel. I'm so fucking wet right now, imagining you're inside me." She gasped. I imagined her touching herself, thinking of me. "I wish you were here. Can't wait for break. Love you."

Then she was done and I was really goddam hard and I didn't feel a shred of guilt.

The next day was a game day. Mom and Jan cheered from the stands. I managed to keep my head straight and played reasonably well. I didn't space out or fuck up too badly, at any rate. We won, too, 42 - 30. Somebody mentioned a party at Pete Braithwaite's. I'd already promised Mom that I'd be home for dinner, but there would be plenty of time to make it to Pete's later on in the evening.

It was dark when I got home, and the sisters were sitting in the living room waiting for me. Mom in dark slacks and a cream colored blouse, Janine in a pink turtleneck that hugged her curves very tightly, and an even tighter pair of jeans that accentuated her full, springy ass. "There's the athlete!" Jan said as I came through the front door. She bounced to her feet, flesh jiggling enticingly under her shirt, and enfolded me in quick hug. I returned it as best I could, my dufflebag dangling from on arm. Jan seemed to thrust her tits against my chest and press her crotch against mine. A feather light kiss brushed against my cheek, and then she stepped away.

Had I imagined it? The twinkle in her eye suggested otherwise.

"That was a great game," Jan said. I forced my eyes to focus on her face. "It's been a while since I saw a high school football game. Brings back memories." She looked slyly at Mom, still seated on the couch. "Remember Derek Gunnarsen?"

Mom colored slightly and looked away. Aunt Jan smirked. "I take that as a yes," she murmured, low enough that only I heard. Jan returned her attention to me. "Stephanie suggested Spoleto's for dinner," she said, changing the subject rather abruptly.