Hidden In the Snow Ch. 01

Bailey stuffed her face between her mother's legs. From her angle, Julie couldn't see every lick and every nibble that Bailey gave her mother. But the story was well-written on Krystal's face; her cheeks gleaming with lust, her eyes glazed with pleasure.

Bailey's head bobbed up and down between her mother's legs, her long hazel hair danced in the air with complete ecstasy.

Julie's right hand, moving with a will of its own, snuck underneath her dainty panties, and started rubbing on the tender mound of her pussy. She felt her juices creaming over her fingers in an instant and filling the air with a biting fragrance of sex.

Bailey shifted her body and climbed over her mother's face, sitting on it, riding it, grinding her pussy against the open mouth. Her back arched like a kitten in heat, her head tossed backwards. She was panting with pleasure. Both her gloriously large globes rose up; her erect nipples pointing at the ceiling.

Julie's hand, tucked under her panties and sandwiched between the wall and her pussy, kept massaging her clit, more vigorously than before. Her eyes were wide, watching her cousin's incredible bare breasts, which were inexplicably on her mind since day one of the trip.

Keep away from this, Julie! You are watching your aunt... and your cousin! For gods' sake, it's Bailey! Bailey with her mother... you know what this is... they have a word for it... ince... inces... incest! This is incest! The word repulsed her. Getting excited from watching it repulsed her. Too many things were happening way too fast. Incest is illegal, Julie; you know that better than anybody and you definitely don't need to be in your second year of Law School to know that.

The women fondled and wrapped around each other, exchanging sweat and fluids. On the bed there was a plethora of different colored toys, only now becoming visible to Julie: Strap-ons, dildos, colorful rubber plugs, some already used, others waiting.

The girls obviously came prepared for a night -- maybe nights -- of sex.

The luggage! A light bulb clicked in Julie's head. I knew there were too many bags, too many for such a short vacation. That's the expression I read on Krystal's face, she brought a bag full of... full of their toys... her filthy toys... to use on her daughter...

It was too much for Julie, her eyes have drank too much of this freakish insanity. Unwillingly she detached her hand from her panties; sweet aroma ascending from her fingers. She slid the window shut with a shaky hand, and climbed off the table. Touching the floor, her legs felt wobbly and weak. Her head was spinning, the corridor became tapered and the walls seemed to be melting around here. She went quickly into her bedroom, closed the door behind her and dove under the covers.

Julie stared at the empty darkness of the room with a pallid face and crystal-glazed eyes. Her breath stood frozen in her throat.

"This is insane," she muttered into the darkness.

The feeling of being unfulfilled still pinched between her slender legs. The raw images of Krystal fucking Bailey still lingered in her head. She was stunned at their act, yet she also envied their pleasure. It was way too long since she has been with a man and felt that type of orgasmic thrill. So busy and wrapped up with her studies, where even a night like this, lying on the bed and tending to her needs became a rarity.

And she was tending to her needs. Her hands, both of them, were eagerly rubbing at her clit. Her breath became heavier as she was reaching the point of orgasm. Inside her head she saw glowing images of her former boyfriend, Jason, his bulging penis working its way inside her.

"Oh, yes," she bit her bottom lip.

Three fingers inside her now, and the image in her head began to shift. It was not a fleshy veiny cock she felt protruding her pussy, but a pink rubber one, impressive with size. And it was not Jason grunting above her, but the image of her aunt, with her large bobbing breasts, and her cold silvery sweat, circling around her puffy nipples.

Julie quivered, her slender pelvis rotating on the mattress, as she climaxed in the darkness, climaxed to the vision of her aunt doing ungodly acts to her pussy.

Her hands were still rubbing her clit as her body convulsed with post-orgasm aftershocks. The only sound in the room was of her heavy breathing.

She looked outside the window. The stars, glistening high above in the black skies, looked down at Julie. They appeared mean and accusing.

She pressed her head tight against the pillow and hoped to magically fall asleep and somehow wake up with a blank memory.

And in case she'd still remember by morning, she would have to tell. She would have to come forward to her mother with what she had seen. There's no other way around it, she must approach her mother.

Even thinking of her mother felt strange. That word, mother, it became deformed, its value had changed. Krystal's vile words echoed in her head. Lick my pussy, baby. Lick Momma's pussy. That line played in her head over and over again, until Krystal's voice eventually altered into Debra's voice. It was a sick transition but an inevitable one as well. The word momma just sounded more natural coming from the mouth of her own momma.

What if it was my mother...? She wondered. What if instead of Bailey it would have been me? What if...

For the next little while she tried to block this idea from her head, fighting this twisted notion as she would fight a rabid wolf trying to sink its diseased teeth into the fabrics of her imagination. Eventually, mental exhaustion put her to sleep.

Tomorrow morning is going to be an awful day for her. She plans to tell her mother everything she had seen, as unrealistic and lewd it may sound. Together they will figure out what is to be done with that repulsive duo, who she once considered her family, but never again.

From now on, her mother was her only family in Stowe.

*****

After a minute, which felt like an eternity, of standing in front of her mother's bedroom, contemplating and thinking over about what she was going to say, Julie finally took a deep breath and tapped on the door.

"Mom, are you awake?"

"Yeah, honey. Come on in." A voice uttered on the other end of the door.

It was early morning, quarter to eight the last time Julie checked the clock. She wasn't sure how much she had slept, but it wasn't a lot. She kept turning in bed most of the night, replaying those deplorable sights that she saw in Bailey's room and chewing over how she should approach her mother about this.

Julie walked into her mother's sunlit room. The window inside was wide open and cool mountain breeze traveled inside, welcoming Julie with a cold kiss. A strong fragrance of lavender escaped from the shower, where Debra had just taken her morning bath.

Debra was sitting on the bed combing her wet hair. She was wearing her red cardigan sweater and a casual white skirt that ended just a few inches above her knees. The sunlight beamed beautifully off her clean golden hair. Once again, Julie found herself impressed by her mother's well kept beauty. But it was a thought she rather not have at that moment. It felt wrong.

"Jules, what are you doing up already? I thought you'll be snoozing for at least another hour."

"Yeah, well... I see you're up early as well."

"Oh, you know me honey. I'm always the early-bird, already showered and everything. How was the night, you slept okay?"

Julie opened her mouth to answer and then closed it immediately. She had an expression on her face as if her mother had asked her a trick math question and she was trying to figure out the right answer in her head.

"You don't look like you slept too well," Debra jumped in before Julie could answer.

"No, I guess I didn't sleep all too well," Julie said drearily.

"You probably drank too much. Who am I kidding, I think I drank too much as well. You know your mother kiddo, not much of a drinker."

"Yeah... no, it's not that."

Debra put her comb aside and gave Julie a concerned look. She stood up looking wide eyed at her daughter.

"What, what is it?"

Julie turned her head aside; she couldn't say it and look at her mother straight in the eyes. She suddenly thought of how in a normal world, the next thing she was going to say to her mother was 'I'm pregnant' or 'I'm getting married', or even 'mom, I dropped out of school and joined a cult'. Everything was better than this. Of course this was not a normal world, not anymore. She woke up last night at 3:05 A.M to a new decadent and debauched world. The kind you read about in the papers. She knew it was time to share her insanity with the one person she trusts the most.

"Last night, I woke up at the middle of the night. I was thirsty as hell, had to go down to the kitchen to get some water."

Debra listened carefully to her daughter. She was looking at her intently with squinted eyes, almost as if she was trying to decipher the image on a Magic Eye poster.

"Well, when I walked out of my room, I heard noises coming out of Bailey's room," Julie continued. "I thought something was wrong and... I peaked inside her room through the small window, you know, the one that looks inside her shower."

"What noises? What did you see?"

Julie took a deep breath and looked high above at the ceiling. Her mouth felt desert-dry. Warm tears were sizzling in her eyes.

"I saw Bailey... and I saw Aunt Krystal. And I swear to God I'm not lying, Mom, or telling a joke. But I saw Aunt Krystal and Bailey... on the bed... and they... they... they were naked. They were having s-sex."

"What?"

"Sex, they were having sex," Julie said again, chocked up. Tears crawled down her cheeks.

Debra sat stiffly on the bed; her eyes were wide with shock, her jaw unlocked. Both her hands, drawn closely to her lap, were playing nervously with each other. She then looked at Julie, and saw the tears rolling down her eyes. She got up and embraced her; gave her a hug, so tight and warm with a mother's love.

"Okay, don't worry, Jules. I'll talk to Krystal. I'll see what's going on," She whispered softly in her daughter's ear. "Just don't you worry. I want you to go to your room, and try to get some sleep. I... I really don't know what else to say... not until I speak with Krystal."

"It's just so fucked up, Ma'. I don't think I can ever look them in the eyes again. Not ever."

"I know, sweetheart," Debra kissed her daughter on the cheek. She looked absorbedly into Julie's sapphire blue eyes. "Go to your room. Close the door. And try to get some sleep. I'll check up on you later."

"Okay," Julie said softly. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, honey. I love you too."

Debra gave Julie a warm hug again. A dark shadow settled across her face as soon she rested her head over her daughter's shoulder. She stared blankly at the door, behind Julie. She was left stunned by what her daughter had told her.

But in a way, she was not completely surprised.

In a way, she was not surprised at all.

*****

Thirty minutes after Julie had told her about her shocking experience, Debra was still stunned and frozen in her room. She watched her own reflection on the big mirror and for some reason, rather inappropriate for that moment, she wondered how desirable she was.

She remembered a year ago, when Julie had come home with her boyfriend, Jason. It was the first time she met the young man. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, chiseled chin type of a fellow. At one point, she served them cold drinks; both Julie and Jason were sitting on the white leather couches in the living room. As Debra brought down the tray of cold lemonades on the table, she could easily notice Jason glancing at her cleavage with big hungry eyes. Of course she would never tell this to Julie. But still, it felt nice to be ogled, to be viewed as sexy. And she was sexy, at least according to her friends, according to her jogging buddies and according to the women in her hair-salon. They all were always very complementary of her. Yet you never really know who's telling the truth and who's being nice to the poor bereaved woman, whose kids had already left her, now almost empty, house.

Eventually, she stepped out of her room. She looked down the corridor at the small shadow peeking underneath Krystal's door. She suddenly felt like one of those sheriffs in the old Westerns she used to watch as a child, just before they were about to enter a saloon full of dirty desperados.

This will either end nicely or this will end in a shootout, she thought.

The air in the corridor was thick with morning stillness. Bailey was fast asleep in her room; her night, which was packed with a wild succession of orgasms, had induced a session of unthinkable and vivid dreams. Julie was also asleep. She found it much easier to do so once the burden was shared with her mother.

Debra walked over to Krystal's room and knocked on her door.

"Krystal, you're up?"

No answer.

Debra paused, and then knocked again.

"Kryst—"

The door opened. Krystal was wearing a bath robe, one hand holding on the door knob, the other holding on the white towel wrapped around her hair. Beads of water glistened on her neck and above the hollow of her breasts.

"Good morning, good morning. I see you're already up," Krystal smiled wearily and gestured Debra to come inside.

"Yeah, well you know me, always the—"

"Always the early bird," Krystal smirked. "Yes, yes, I know."

Krystal opened the curtains of her window, sweeping the room with great beams of sunlight. "Wow, beautiful day out," she said and unwrapped the towel from her hair. "I guess we can enjoy it while it lasts, I heard we may be getting some snow-storms today."

"Yeah, I heard it too," Debra said drearily.

Krystal swiftly walked to her closet, where she kept her unpacked vacation clothes. She studied each sweater and each pair of pants that she took out of the shelves, and then tossed them carelessly on top of her bed, creating a heap of clothes.

"Ugh. First thing I'm doing back home is buying an all new wardrobe for winter." She then turned to Debra. "How you doing, hon. you drank coffee already? If not, then wait for me. I'll make us a fresh pot."

Debra paused before she answered. She didn't need a cup of coffee to get an adrenaline rush in her veins. Not this morning.

"No. Not yet."

Krystal turned to Debra, she noticed some stiffness in her sister's voice. "What's up with you? You're okay?"

Debra quietly walked over to the window at far side of the room. There was a white wooden desk-chair bathing in the morning sunlight, and Debra sat on it. She looked outside the window at the silvery blue skies, searching far away into the heavens.

"Helloooo, Debra? Everything's alright?"

"I don't know. You tell me," Debra replied solemnly, without taking her eyes off the window.

Krystal dropped the red sweater she was holding in her hands, and turned to her sister; a grave look on her face.

"What? What do you mean?"

Debra, sitting with her back to Krystal, watched white clouds slowly drifting in the skies, mesmerized. She hesitated for just a second, but when she did finally speak, the words came out of her mouth like heavy bricks.

"My daughter told me that she woke up in the middle of the night. And she heard noises coming out of Bailey's room."

Krystal froze. Her eyes closed tightly.

"She saw you and Bailey inside," there was a long pause before she continued. "She saw what you were doing."

"How?"

"How?" Debra said abruptly. "Really, Krystal? That's the question? How?"

Krystal hung her head and said, "No. No, of course not. Oh God..."

After a brief moment of silence Krystal walked over to Debra. She placed her hands on top of her sister's shoulders, which became warm from sunlight, and gave them a light squeeze. Debra reacted with listless apathy to Krystal's touch; she simply stared outside the window with bright eyes, looking far away into the distance.

"I didn't mean for her to see it... I didn't mean to—"

"So you have sex with your daughter?" Debra asked, cutting Krystal's words like a sharp knife.

Krystal's grip tightened around her sister's shoulders. "Yes," she answered shamefully, her answer both honest and awful.

"For how long have you been doing this?"

Krystal took a deep breath. Cold drops began to drip from her soaked hair. There was such a bitter silence in the room she could actually hear each drop as it crashed on the hardwood floor.

"For a few months now," she answered.

"I... I didn't know you did that... with her..."

"Come on, sister. You know what type of family we came from. You know the deal. It shouldn't come to you as that much of a surprise."

Debra didn't answer but rather kept looking deeply into the sunny blue skies, but it wasn't the clouds she was looking at, not even the tremendous silhouette of Mount Mansfield peering up ahead in the distance. She was looking at her past -- a few decades into her past.

While society always looked at interfamily relations as taboo and immoral, Krystal and Debra grew in a house where such things were a commonplace. Of course, they were also smart enough to know not to talk about it outside the confines of their home; it was the family secret.

It was their mother who suggested to both Debra and Krystal to have sex for the first time. It was their mother who taught them that as long as they are mature enough to understand the implications of their doings, then there is no shame in sharing love with a close member of the family.

In her later years, Debra would look at her past with a small measure of regret of how she was brought up, but not with complete disdain. As far as she could tell, she and her sister were brought up in a loving home environment with parents that were nothing short of gentle folks, who were adored by both children and adults alike. Most importantly, though, was the fact that their parents never forced anything upon them, but only presented them with an option. They explained to them the ways of the family and would have gladly accepted which ever path the sisters chose to take. If they wanted to, Debra and Krystal could have refused. They could have easily been taken out of this close intimate circle. But they didn't.

Krystal and Debra grew up in the same room, where they shared everything from clothes to personal secretes. They always had a lot of love for each other, but once they discovered the pleasures of sex with one another, their love inflated into something much greater.

"Come on, Deb. It's been so long for me. I didn't have any serious relationship with a man for over sixteen years." Krystal said. Her hands were softly kneading Debra's shoulders.

"You dated lots of men, Krystal. It was your decision not to remarry. It was only your decision. God knows you had options."

"True. I'm not denying it. But I couldn't remarry because I didn't want to live in a lie. I didn't want to wake up in bed every morning to a person that I knew... that I knew I could never love—"

"Don't say it, Krystal."

"— As much as I loved you."

Suddenly, the vivid colors washed out of Debra's world and grew sepia-toned. It was as if someone knocked her out of her seat and kicked her thirty years into the past. She could literally smell the fragrance of the freshly cut grass on the lawn outside the house she grew up in. She suddenly remembered all the love that was shared between her and Krystal. How they would have the most amazing sex; the type she was never able to duplicate again -- not with her husband, not with anyone. It was the perfect mixture of explorative young love and the explosiveness of raging hormones.