Incest Inc Ch. 03

"To wake up," he said shakily, and smiled as his sister laughed softly. "Tell me," he said, and paused, hoping for inspiration. "Tell me what feels good," he finished. "And what doesn't."

"I will," his sister promised.

"Thank you," he whispered, and moved forward, lying prone on the bed. He ran his hands up the outside of Shannon's thighs, trying to come to grips with what had happened.

You're weak, a hateful part of himself snarled. A flash of leg, a little sympathy, and you're doing it again! Don't you have any fucking pride? Or a sense of shame?

Shut up. He closed his eyes, sick of his own divided conscience. In his mind, he pictured a box. He picked up the evil, squirming sense of sin and threw it inside, latching and locking the box shut. Shame has made me miserable for the last year and a half. Maybe I should try a little sin and see how it feels.

He looked up the bed. Shannie smiled back down at him, her eyes calm and placid. How could she be like this? His cock was a throbbing bar of heat in his shorts, but she looked as cool and serene as Lake Michigan on a warm summer day.

"It's not a huge mystery," she said softly. "It's just my pussy. Give it a kiss, Jason. Say hello. I'm pretty sure she likes you."

"You talk about...about your hoo-ha in the third person?" he asked, inching forward. Greatly daring, he kissed the insides of her thighs. Her skin was warm and soft under his lips.

"Well, guys name their dicks. No reason why I can't do the same thing."

"No reason at all," he agreed. The lips of her vulva were now only a fraction of an inch away. He could smell the odor of her arousal wafting from her sheath. The smell was thick and strong, like roses on an August day.

He hitched forward on his elbows, and gave her a small kiss, his lips barely parted. Unbidden, his eyes glanced upwards, hoping for approval, fearing disgust, or, even worse, a weary acceptance that his clumsy overtures would have to be borne until she could put an end to the pathetic facade.

Instead, he saw the eyes of his sister, her face warm with love. "Don't be afraid," she breathed. "It's only a pussy. Love it."

Swallowing, he ducked his head in a nod. Damn it. I have to do this right. Shannie won't hurt my feelings. But I want to do this right.

He shook his mind free of all his preconceived notions. All his romantic ideas, all his secret fears, all his neuroses and hang-ups and fantasies were thrown to the wind. All that was left was the goal, made flesh in a pair of pink lips framed by tan young thighs, sleek as youth and exercise could make them.

Make your sister orgasm. He had to fight down a giggle that might morph into full-fledged hysteria. No problem.

He kissed her again, but this time he backed away, all his senses tuned to the responses of Shannon's body. Up and down the insides of her legs he worked, now with his mouth closed, now with it open, now with his tongue tracing wet patterns on her skin. As he did, his hands roamed up and down the outside of her legs from her knees to her buttocks, trying to find the touches that most pleased her.

He approached her mound again, only to find her lifting it towards his face. "Goddess, you're driving me crazy," a hoarse voice panted.

"Huh?"

"You fucking tease," Shannon said, her voice raspy. His gaze swiveled upwards, as his almost preternaturally calm sister for once let emotion rule her voice. "Would it kill you to actually stop fucking around and lick me?"

She wants me. He tried to fight down an incredulous smile. His cheerleader-gorgeous sister actually wanted him!

"Probably not," he drawled, answering her question. He bestowed a closed-mouth kiss on her lips, which were parted slightly, revealing the flesh inside. Before Shannon could berate him any more, he let his tongue dart out and sweep up the length of her cleft. Before he was done, he felt her hands on his scalp, her fingers clutching hard. It wasn't painful, though, all things considered, it gave the promise of pain to come if he wasn't as...attentive...to Shannon's needs as she thought he should be.

"Right there, dammit," she commanded. "More." One of her hands slipped away, her palm pressing down on the mound of her pubis, slowly grinding. Her fingers spread her lips wide, offering him a view of the inside of her sheath. At the top of her lips was a nubbin of flesh, about the size of the last joint of his thumb. A tiny hood of flesh covered most of it, but the very tip was coyly peeking out.

"Is that..." he breathed.

"It's my clitoris," she replied. A finger softly touched it and she sighed. "Do you want to kiss it?"

"Yes."

"Go ahead, then." A smile touched her lips, curving them in a sweet bow. "You're going to be spending a lot of time there in the next few years. You might as well make friends with her now."

He started to reply, then thought better of it. He didn't think he would end up being the winner in any case. He bent his head, leaning forward, and split the length of her cleft with his tongue, drawing it up her slit. He lapped at her, forcing his tongue deep inside. Her taste was thick and salty, heavy with the musk of her arousal, but not unpleasant. Each stroke he moved higher, until he was only the smallest distance away, and her hips were yearning towards him.

"You're good, Jason," her voice murmured. One thigh moved higher, the soft flesh stroking his cheek. "Very good."

His heart sang at the praise, and he moved his mouth higher, aiming for her bud of pleasure. He breathed hot air across it, then fastened his mouth on her mound, surrounding her clit. A convulsive jerk of his sister's hips raised his eyes worriedly, but she simply smiled at him. Her hands had left her pubis, and as he watched, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, golden skin meeting his eyes as her hands moved upwards. When the last button parted, she opened the blouse as if she were spreading a pair of wings. Her breasts, golden and round and firm, sprang into view and she held them in her cupped palms, her thumbs rubbing across her nipples. The sight was unbearable sexy, and he shifted on the bed, aware of the growing pressure in his groin.

A quick shimmy of Shannon's body brought him back to his senses, or what remained of them. He started to lick his sister's clit again, his tongue lingering over her bud in long, slow strokes. Her body began to slowly undulate, her hips rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. At the top of one crest, he caught the globes of her buttocks in his hands and held her, lifting her towards his mouth.

Sweep after sweep, caress after caress, he made love to her pussy until sweat began to gather on the back of his neck, trickling down his back. His neck was beginning to get sore, his tongue tired. But Shannon's breaths were getting deeper, hoarser, the movement of her body more frantic. On every exhale a tiny squeaking noise escaped her lips, and when he glanced up, he could see her fingers pulling at her wine-colored nipples.

"Jason, oh Jason, baby," she breathed, her voice high and faint. "You're eating me so good. So damn good. Her hands began to squeeze her breasts, lifting them high. "Almost....almost...almost...there!" she gasped, and he could feel it, a rolling, rippling shudder that coursed through her body. Her thighs squeezed his head, holding him in place, and he licked her lips and clit, lavishing his attention on her until she finally squirmed away, putting her hands over her groin and laughing at him softly.

"Enough," she said, and her face was tender with love as she gazed at him, her eyes wide and wise.

"Good?" he asked, hating himself for even asking the question.

She nodded. "Very good. I knew you would be, once you relaxed a bit. Now," she continued more briskly as he grinned with shy pride, "get out of those silly clothes. How are we going to make love if you've still got your pecker covered up?"

"Is that what we're going to do? What about..." he made a gesture towards her midsection, "babies and stuff? I've got three more years until I graduate, Shannie. And I know I'm not ready for a bouncing baby boy just yet. Or a girl, either."

"You let me worry about that."

"No." His face set in a stubborn, mulish look. "I'm not going to let you worry about that. You might think it's fine and dandy if you get knocked up. But I don't."

"Not even if the baby is Dad's?"

"Well, that would be diff-" He cut himself off. "What? Already? You can't possibly know that."

She laid her hands on her flat belly. Her smile was soft with knowledge and desire fulfilled. "I do. The Goddess told me last night in my dreams. A girl-child, with my eyes and his hair.

"So stop being silly and come to bed. I promise not to get pregnant."

He opened his mouth to protest, but something in her eyes stopped him. He had seen eyes like that before, in paintings of religious saints. Shannon didn't believe, she knew. Knew with a bone-deep conviction which made his fears look ridiculous. When she told him she was pregnant with their father's child, she didn't just believe it, it was something she knew, as much as he knew that two and two made four.

So he undressed and lay down in bed with his sister. Carefully, as if her body was a field covered in land mines, he put his hand on the small of her back, pulling her close. She smiled into his eyes and opened her mouth for a kiss, her stupendous breasts brushing his chest.

"Mmmm," she said when they parted. Her hand rested on his cheek. "Where did you learn to kiss like that, Jase? A woman could get used to it."

"Here and there," he muttered. He took a deep breath. "Mom."

She smiled, dimples forming at the corner of her mouth. "Remind me to thank her when we're done." She laughed, long and low, making his belly do flips. "I'm glad I don't have to teach you everything." A thigh rose, sliding across the skin of his flanks. The motion made her cleft brush up against the aching bar of his cock. Hot and wet, the sensation made him close his eyes, and he pulled Shannon close for another kiss, his hand rising to cup a breast in his hands.

Time stood still. There was nothing but the taste of her mouth, the feel of her skin, the sounds of their mingled gasps and moans. When he came back to himself, he was above her, kissing her long and deep. Shannon's hands were clasped about his neck, and her face was peaceful and serene, but at the same time filled with need. Her body moved beneath his, twisting, turning, opening, and now somehow his shaft was sliding inside her, guided by nothing more than happy thoughts and wishes.

She drew his head down, kissing him deeply. The movement pushed him deeper into her, and she shivered with sudden pleasure, her nipples standing up on her breasts in thick nubs. "Nice, Jason," she purred, her hands laced in his hair. She raised her head and kissed him, her teeth nipping at his lip. "Damn nice. Now I know why Mom was glowing last night."

He blushed, but his sister continued. "Now. We're not going to have any more silliness about you moving away, are we?" When he didn't answer right away, she gripped him with her inner muscles, milking him with her sheath. "Are we?"

"No," he said. He shook his head. "I'm through with running away from my problems."

"Good." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him again. "That makes me happy. I love you, Jason."

"I love you, Shannon." Unthinkingly, he began to catch her rhythm, slowly driving into her with long sure strokes.

His orgasm came up on him quietly. Not like yesterday, when it had been a lightning strike, grounding itself on the electric blaze of his mother's desire. Instead it was long and slow and lovely. When Shannon saw his face change, his thrusts becoming more urgent, she drew him down, his head cradled against her shoulder, and held him as he came to a shuddering release, his guilt and fear and shame blown away as if by a brisk north wind.

He lay on her chest for a moment, then turned, feeling relaxed, feeling whole, for the first time in months.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I'm sorry you didn't-"

Shannon snorted. "Men. Why do they feel we have to cum every time? It doesn't make you a failure. And feeling you cum inside me was very nice, Jason.

"Next time, though," she said, shaking her fist in mock-threat. "If you don't get me off, I'm cutting you off. No more free rides."

He kissed her knuckles, smiling as she shivered at the look in his eyes. "It's a deal."

*****

A little while later, they went downstairs for breakfast. She refused to put the skirt she had worn into Jason's room back on, since it was now wrinkled and smelled like the back seat of a car on prom night. She took a detour to her room and put on something light and comfortable, white and ankle-length, decorated with red roses which wound about in a spiraling pattern.

No blouse, of course. She smiled as Jason noticed, and then noticed her noticing.

Jason cleared his throat as he entered the kitchen, then did a double-take. "Dad. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

His father shrugged from his spot at the table. "The Ice Queen told me to take the week off when she made the offer on Friday night. When she did, I wasn't thinking straight. I was scared to death of what she was suggesting. But now...I don't mind collecting a little vacation pay. Especially when I have so many lovely distractions here," he said, leaning over to nuzzle his wife's ear. "I left her a voice mail this morning. Anyway, Roxanne can handle my projects for a day or two."

Beverly laughed and pretended to push her husband away. "Help, Jason. Your dad is turning into a sex-fiend."

"Yeah, about that," he said slowly. Four faces turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry. I want to apologize to you, Angie," he said, turning to his twin, "for being such a shit to you for the last couple of years. You had your act together and I didn't, but that's my fault, not yours. And I want to apologize to you, Dad, for judging what you and Shannie were doing. I had no right. And I apologize to you, Mom, for leaving you alone yesterday, when you wanted me to stay with you. Shannon-"

She put her finger across his lips. "There's no need, beloved."

He shook his head. "I need to say it."

He took a deep breath. "I apologize to you, Shannie. I was wrong. I don't pretend to understand this Goddess of yours. But she makes you happy. And if having a baby with Dad makes you happy, then I should be happy for you.

"And most of all, I want to apologize to all of you for being a walking, talking pain in the ass for the last couple of days. I don't know if I'll take the foundation up on their offer. But I know for sure I'm going to give it a damn good think. No one understands me the way you do." His lips twisted in his old wry smile. "Hell, no one else would put up with me, anyway."

Their father stood up. Shannon thought only herself and her mother caught Jason's tiny, almost subliminal flinch.

Instead, Scott Gallifrey put out his hand. "Apology accepted."

He shook it, looking immeasurably relieved. Their mother was the next to stand, folding him in a hug. When she released him, he stood still, gazing at his twin. Angelica refused to look up, her eyes focused on her plate of fruit

"Angie?" His voice was quiet.

"God, Jason." She looked up, her face torn between anger and amusement. "How can you be such an idiot?"

"I practice," he replied seriously. "Every day. Even when I don't feel like it."

Her lips curled in an unwilling smile and she grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the table. Jerking her head towards the front door, she asked, "Want to take a walk?"

Jason dithered for a second, obviously trying to figure out his twin's motives. "Sure," he said, finally. "Just let me grab something to eat."

Aware of Angie's tight gaze, he pulled a loaf of bread out of the fridge, slapped a couple of slices of cheese between the slices, and grabbed a bottle of diet soda. "I'm ready."

"Good." Angie stood and headed for the door, walking quickly.

Just before she reached it, Shannon called after her. "Angie?"

"Yeah?"

"He's great in bed."

She slanted a look at her brother, who didn't seem to know whether he should be blushing in pride or embarrassment, so had decided to do both. "Better than Dad?"

Shannon gave a small shrug, making her breasts bounce. "With practice, who knows what could happen?"

"Huh. All right. Come on, little brother." She stalked out the door, followed by Jason's hurrying form.

Shannon sat down. "Well, thank the Goddess they're gone." She lifted her eyebrows. "Whatever shall we do to fill the time?"

*****

Angelica glanced at her brother as they walked side by side down the street. It was going to be a scorcher later on, she knew. But for now the morning was mild, the humidity of an Illinois summer not yet unbearable. By two or three o'clock, though, anyone with a lick of sense would be someplace with air conditioning.

"I love you, Angie."

She smiled bitterly as they turned the corner onto Walnut. "I love you, too. But...this isn't going to work out, you know," she said quietly. "Long term, I mean."

"What?"

"Us, you dope." God, what was it that turned men into idiots where girls were concerned? Women were way more sensible. She tugged at the hem of her cut-off shirt, suddenly feeling underdressed. She was still wearing the clothes she had worn to bed the night before; a white t-shirt with a ragged hem, thin from dozens of launderings, and a pair of yoga shorts, cut high on her thighs, that fit snugly around her waist. Jason was barely more presentable in shorts, t-shirt, and a pair of sandals. Together they looked like a pair of ragamuffins, doing the walk of shame after a long night out.

"I...hadn't really thought about it. Being a couple. I mean, we haven't even..."

"Made love? Screwed? Fucked?"

"All of the above." He laughed, sounding tired. One hand reached down to clasp hers, and she returned his grip. She doubted anyone would notice, not in this quiet residential neighborhood. But they had to be careful. "I've wanted you, I think, ever since I knew that girls were useful for anything.

"But why are you talking about long-term? Shouldn't we worry about short-term first?"

"Fine. Let's talk about short-term. In the short-term, you're going to go back downstate in a couple of months. Unless you feel like transferring to a school up here after only one year in Urbana."

"Christ, go to Northwestern?" He shuddered in mock horror. "Screw that."

"Public-school peasant."

"Private-school snob."

Angie smiled. Their mutual disdain for the school the other attended, it seemed, was not going to change, despite their truce. "So, what are you going to do down there? All your booty-calls are going to be two hours away."

He shrugged. "I made it through freshman year without a girlfriend. I can make it through another one, especially knowing that you and Shannon and Mom are up here waiting for me. And now that I know what I have to come home to, you can bet your sweet ass I'll be coming home a lot more often on the weekends."

"Sweet ass?"

"The sweetest." He moved an arm behind her, one palm cupping the firm curve of her asscheek. She caught her breath, the heat of his hand seeming to sear her skin like a brand.

"Jason." She stopped and faced him, forcing him to stop and turn. "What is it you really want?"

He swallowed. "Words," he muttered. "I've never been any damn good with words. Not like Shannie. Or you. Why can't this be a math problem?

"I love you, Angie. But it's more than that." He took a deep breath. "I love Mom, and I love Shannon. But with Mom, it's all passion. About how wrong what we're doing is. And how hot that makes it."