'Irish Twins' Home Alone Sequel

"Sugar, that list is still taped to the refrigerator door ... what the hell, indeed." Doris' mind whirled as she looked more closely at the pile of clothes, quickly jumping onto Hank's train of thought as he retrieved two beers -- for celebratory drinks upon completing the first day of studio work. As he closed the refrigerator door, he saw her frozen stare in front of the laundry pile.

"What?" Hank muttered, popping a top on a refreshing can of a specialty brew, while catching Doris' dead-in-her-tracks stance and hearing her startled gasp. The one that comes with the look on a mother's face as she grasps the gravity of an unpleasant, eureka moment.

"Where are the kids, Hank?" Doris cried out, in a hurried, frantic-like query to his 'what' question.

The 'what' was a mother's intuitive read on the pile of laundry -- Andy's red robe, his yellowed, pre-cum-stained tighty-whities, Andreanna's rolled-down panties, and her frilly blue nightgown. No other clothing, nothing brought down from upstairs, nothing sorted either. She knew Sissy could sort laundry by colors, and Doris knew and read the signs as well as an Indian scout crossing the plains.

This wasn't 'laundry.'

"Probably, outside, I guess," Hank mumbled, taking a long swallow. "It's too quiet inside," he added, looking out the back windows. When he turned around, Doris was gone -- her beer unopened and still on the table.

"What the hell?" Hank echoed, for the second time in under two minutes.

It was the blood-curdling screams from upstairs that got his attention. Mid-swallow, his beer can hit the table. Hank made a champion 100-yard sprinter look like he was taking a walk in the park. He bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. His sprint took him to where Doris stood wide-eyed and mouth agape, in Sissy's bedroom doorway.

"Holy ... shit!" he bellowed, taking in the view of the Irish twins trying to cover themselves with whatever was left on the bed -- for Sissy, a throw pillow hugged against his lower body -- her tits pillowed above it, while Andy was left with just his hands shifting around his groin. Those anxious hands didn't cover much with that now-deflated pole, not twice its size anymore. The size it had been while sunk into Sissy's ass as Doris surprised them, just one minute before.

"Family table parle! Five minutes, you two!" Doris castigated, and railed at them with a mother hen's fury. Hank was about to add his two cents' worth, but caught the blistering look in that mother-mad-as-hell look she gave them. 'Better to let that thought come out at the family parle they always held at the communal kitchen table,' he wisely concluded. But there would be some heavy shit coming their way, he knew.

'How the fuck did this happen?' The Irish twin's parents thought, on their hurried exit from Sissy's room and back down the stairs, out of earshot to figure out how to handle an event they never, ever expected to encounter.

That left two naked, embarrassed, and agitated eighteen-year-olds staring at one another, as reality set in. Two minutes before, it had been entirely different. Sissy was ecstatic, feeling Andy's groin banging against her butt as they watched a similar scene on the wall-mounted TV in her room. With the WiFi password that Andy gave her, the two had spent the afternoon channel surfing and selecting hot scenes that piqued their interest. The twins had separated, like ice water dousing them in flagrante, when Doris screamed. The sexual ecstasy had imploded, and now only the television display showed a wanton, dripping-wet girl Sissy's age, with a line of guys and smiles awaiting their turns -- to fuck her ass. The allotted time intended for chores to help cover their deeds had warped forward as they frolicked the afternoon away.

"Oh, shit!" Sissy gasped, looking at Andy still covering his cock with his hands. The cocky guy of two minutes ago, now looked like a twelve-year-old caught by his mom playing doctor with his sister.

"Fuck!" Andy sputtered, looking at Andreanna's wide-eyed, doe-in-the-headlights stare.

Andy slunk off to his room without further speaking to Sissy, and fumbled for a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. His mind was dazed and running on autopilot, following his mother's admonishment to be downstairs in five minutes.

Sissy, meanwhile, looked for something saintly, anticipating the heat her parents were about to bring down upon the connatural pair. She skinned into a pair of good-girl panties, a sensible bra, and matching pantsuit -- something fitting for church attendance. If she had to walk the walk of shame across the kitchen, she was determined to make a decent impression -- regardless of what brought her to the table. Both teens had thoughts of images of the scarlet letter "I" for incest sewn into their clothing forever, after the family council met. Most prior meetings dealt with educational decisions, vacation plans, and such; never had there been a parle about -- fucking your Irish twin.

A forlorn, impatient Andy stood in the hallway waiting for Sissy. 'Fuck!' he debated his timing, 'We go down together -- shouldn't we? What the hell is taking her so long?'

His eyes caught Sissy's movement, and he turned to face her, striding out of her doorway. It wasn't the same girl he had laid six ways to Sunday on Sissy's bed. This girl was a transformed-ethereal sprite for another magical world. No way she had spent the day getting laid, looking like this. The girl from this morning's knee-bumping mattress tease had breached her butterfly chrysalis and spread her wings, ready to take flight or possibly to fight.

"I'm sorry," Andy's contrite voice offered, as he hesitantly stretched out his hand. This time, he had no words or trembling-hand strokes of consolation, as he did this morning in the kitchen. The outcome was certainly not pleasant like the last few hours of exploration.

"You didn't start this. I did, Andy. So, I'm taking the blame. I'll defend you," she answered firmly, taking his offered hand.

Her adamance struck Andy. This morning, he recalled thinking he would defend her in battle even if it meant his life. This afternoon, she reversed the tables and was vehement that she would do the same at the high-table meeting in the kitchen. It wouldn't be a fight for life or death; he knew that much. 'But that's what Irish twins do for each other,' he thought.

Gently squeezing her hand, they slinked downstairs into the lions' den together. Andy knew he wouldn't let Andreanna usurp his owning the consequences. Before he took her at the kitchen sink this morning, he could have refused. He had that chance; his cockhead became the ruler instead of his head, which should have done the reasoning. 'If only Sissy hadn't seen Dad ravishing Mom bent over at that kitchen sink this morning, none of this would have happened. Damn it!' he pondered that thought, walking down the stairway.

Turning the kitchen doorway corner, both stared at their parents. Andreanna let go of Andy's hand, moving to her chair. Andy's zombie-like motion took him to his place of shame. Dad sat with Mom's can of beer nearly finished, and Mom sat bolt upright at the table with her arms crossed, holding up her bosom. Neither parent gave off any sense of forgiveness -- the cold chill was like hoar frost in winter's twenty-five-degree temperature -- not today's hot summer weather.

'From their frosty stares,' Andy concluded, 'this isn't going to go well.' His Irish twin shared the same mental feeling.

Dad, as head of the household, blustered, "Why, Andrew? You took advantage of your sister. What the fuck!"

It was 'Andrew' now -- not Andy. 'Bad sign, already,' the eighteen-year-old figured.

Hank was not angry, more like pissed to the point of boiling, so that steam was about to come out of his ears. Hank lit into his son; the venom spewed out like the crack of a whip -- not out of righteous rage, but as anger brought on by disappointment.

Doris cut into his outburst, though not to rescue the Irish twins.

"It takes two to tango, Hank. And from what I saw upstairs, it wasn't all just Andy taking advantage of Andreanna." Mom was setting the tone for the rest of the conversation, as Hank stewed for a while. She had walked into Sissy's room to an incredible sight. Brother and sister naked, and huffing and puffing with sexual exertions. Andy was plunging into Sissy's ass as she pumped her dildo in and out of her cunt. Both were staring at the blaring television scene of a gangbang of a girl doing the same thing. The difference was that the girl on TV had a line of guys waiting their turn.

'Thank god that wasn't filmed with Sissy.' Doris' mind flashed red at that thought.

"What your father and I want to know is why? This isn't like the two of you. We gave you more credit than doing something like that. Damned if we weren't wrong on that account. Sissy, I gave you a damn ...."

Doris was about to blurt out that she'd given Sissy a dildo for her eighteenth secret birthday present -- she hadn't told Hank that. It was given and meant to -- ameliorate a girl's teenage hormonal rages.

"It's my ...." The simulcast of both siblings' voices echoed. Each determined to control the narration.

"Sissy, first," Hank declared, waving Andy down with that no-not-you shake-off.

Sissy glared at Andy ... that telepathic stare that declared, 'This is my fault ... don't get into it and ruin it for yourself too!'

"Andy is going to say it was his idea, but that's not the case," Sissy began. "I ... started it ... or you and mom did," she said, then waited for the words to sink in.

Hank's voice, still angry, barked, "What the hell, Sissy, did your Mom and I have to do with you ... doing what ... you two did?"

Hank couldn't bring himself to say it or to think of it as what it was -- sibling incest, sibcest, as it was labeled on the porn websites. The themes of some of the scripts on his desk dealt with the subject matter -- not real in his mind, just someone's fantasy playing out in an imaginary, slightly bent way of thinking -- that was Hank's take on it; until now.

"Dad," Andy's voice cut in over Andreanna's objection, "It's my fault this happened. Sissy was upset, and I tried to console her -- hugging her to calm her down. Then ... things got out of hand after she told me what had her so riled up. It got to me, too."

"Sissy, ..." Doris cried out, breaking into the rapid-fire conversation, "what the hell are you talking about? What happened caused you two to crawl into your bed ... humping like ... camels!"

Taking a deep breath, Andreanna seized the momentary pause in the chaotic conversation and addressed that crucial question. The answer came in a low tone and with frequent halting steps, as she gathered her thoughts.

"I ... it was ... the fight this morning ..." she began and faltered.

"You two fought and ... then wound up in bed together?" Hank asked incredulously. Sissy's reply didn't make sense to him, and he was just as puzzled as Doris. She bore the quizzical look of a mother not understanding her child's words. There had been no fighting, not even a disagreement between the adults this morning. Everything was a rush to get to the first day of work at the new job site.

"What fight, Sissy?" Doris quizzed her.

"The violent one between you and Daddy this morning," the tearful sniffle answered her mom's question.

"Honey, we didn't fight," Doris responded, puzzled by Sissy's strange accusation.

Hank echoed Doris' response, "No, we ... don't fight like that, and certainly nothing you could have heard this morning. We left for work before you even got up."

"No, Dad, you guys didn't." Andy retorted, bursting into the conversation. "Sissy came to my room and told me about what happened. You were ... berating Mom ... in the kitchen."

"Oh, God. Hank ... she heard us," Doris said, in shock. Her hands rose to her face to cover the surprised open-mouth gape, as it dawned on her that Sissy may have overheard part of the kitchen event -- before they left for work.

"What do you think you heard, Sissy?" Hank asked, his temper somewhat cooled and his guard going on alert. He hoped it was just some snippet he could gloss over, perhaps with a little white lie.

Sissy found her voice in the lull, as her parents seemed to be rewinding what had transpired in the morning that Sissy might have picked up. The best hope, in both their minds, was that it was something that wasn't very violent, as Sissy had called it. Despite Hank and Doris' recollection -- it was nothing a newly-turned eighteen-year-old young adult should have heard.

"It wasn't just heard," Sissy started over, "I ... watched you ... too."

Doris' eyes widened; she blanched at the word 'watched.' Hank did the same. And his face took on the expression of an open-mouthed fish out of the water, gasping for air. Talk, you might get away with covering with some explanation, witnessing something -- that can't be easily whitewashed in a child's mind.

"Dad, you made mom bend over at the sink, called her a bitch, and ... said you might fuck her ass tomorrow to show her who the boss was if she didn't show you some respect. I saw you strip naked, your ... dick was hard ... and then you shoved it into mom's cunt doggie style. You treated her like a bitch in heat." Sissy spewed out the words and didn't mince the coarse vocabulary. The heartfelt words poured out, and the tears flowed along with them.

Andy's expression was intense, as he listened to the recounting of what and how Sissy gave a blow-by-blow description of this morning. Only now, his shorts didn't have a tent as his underwear did this morning before Sissy stripped them off after breakfast. The shock of the last ten minutes had taken its effect on his libido.

Looking directly at her mother, Sissy summarized her part in the sorted scene. "Mom, you were calling Dad a motherfucker, a bastard." And finally, she recounted how Doris seemed to like being humiliated and dominated, as Hank slammed against her ass repeatedly with his cock jamming into her slit.

"I ... I left before ... you finished fucking. I couldn't watch the rest," Andreanna weakly cried out the last vestiges of her view from the kitchen doorway, before she slinked away to seek out Andy and give him the bad news.

As Andreanna's voice cracked over the vivid recollection, Andy picked up where Sissy had left off.

"I guess at that point, you had your power play, Dad. Then you must have gone to work while Sissy was in my room. She told me about some of it -- held back some -- until after I got the rest of the story out of her after breakfast. That was the ... forced sex ... Dad. Stuff we never expected to hear you doing. It ... got me stirred up and ... one thing led to another."

At that point, Sissy blurted out, "That's not accurate, Andy, and you know there is more to it than that." Sissy took issue with Andy's attempt to portray himself as more of the villain in the story than she.

"Daddy, I begged Andy to do me as you did, Mom," Sissy declared adamantly. "I wanted to know what a ... hard cock like yours felt like, Dad. Despite the treatment, I felt my body surging for a little of that lust I heard and saw in Mom's response to how you did her."

Doris reached across the table for Sissy's hand. "Oh, God, Sissy. I'm so sorry you witnessed that!"

Hank added, "Kids, what you saw ... well, it wasn't what Sissy thought went on. Honey, that was role-playing a scene from a ... script. We weren't fighting, baby girl. I'm sorry -- I got a ... little randy over that scene and thought it would be cute to act it out since the setting was in a kitchen -- I teased your mom with it."

"Teased?" Andy said, his eyebrows raised.

"Honey," Doris interjected, "Andy, Sissy, your daddy wasn't hurting me. Yeah, it got a little rough and salty, but that ... well, that's not unusual for what we do in our bedroom when you're asleep. Maybe not that wild, but still not something I didn't enjoy."

Andreanna's eyebrows raised in response to that. The impact of her Mom's words hit her stomach like a clenched fist; she inhaled sharply. The same expression burst across Andy's surprised face as well. Both reeled at the impact -- Sissy's spying episode wasn't long enough to hear the end of the kitchen conversation -- after the breakfast-sex scene between her mom and dad as they talked about how hot that was and that they needed to do more role-playing.

It was much like that snake report that had the fire department responding to rescue a neighbor when she was thirteen. This time, the outcome was dramatically different. Instead of being grounded for a week over a neighbor being attacked by a snake that turned out to be a garden hose, the siblings' outcome was losing their virginity. Andy's snake did that, and nothing was going to undo that debacle, and in the end, both siblings revealed they secretly wanted sex with each other. Sissy was even looking for an opportunity and a pretext to push the boundary anyway. Vivid sexual scene aside, this seemed to be a mutual destiny for the Irish twins. If not now, then down the road.

"Sissy, those ... feelings you had from seeing that role-play in the kitchen, honey, that's stuff you should have relieved with that secret birthday present I gave you," Doris eased out softly.

"What secret present?" Hank asked in puzzlement. Birthday presents weren't on the table for discussion and were so far out of place in this conversation that he became confused by Doris' bringing it up.

"Dad ... she has a dildo," Andy answered matter-of-fact, squealing on his sister and mom's secret. He didn't think to let his mom answer that question.

"Sissy, you have a dildo, too?" Hank stammered, as though he was surprised to hear about an eighteen-year-old virgin girl having one.

A woman, well, he and Doris played with hers, but this was Sissy, his daughter, who used to be a virgin and wasn't supposed to be sexually inclined until she married. It was one of Hank's chauvinistic anarchisms ... anyone else's daughter, yes, that would be okay. Just not Sissy.

Doris gave him the mother look. "Dear, you were the one that wanted her to stay a virgin until she married. You didn't really think she'd wait until then ... without some relief? Yes, I got her one, thinking it would help ... however, it didn't overcome this situation. But it should have ...."

As Hank's voice softened, his body's posture changed commensurately. His shoulders slumped, his hands dropped from the tabletop, and they slipped out of sight -- unobtrusively, he made an adjustment, relieving some anxiety.

'Jesus, I can't believe I got hard from listening to Sissy's voyeur's view. Look at her; that silky top hugs those jugs so ... She looks angelic now. Her hair is combed, makeup on, and that ruby-red lipstick on those lush, pouty lips. Yes, an angel compared to that chaotic scene upstairs. Man, up there, she looked so damn hot with those lips so wide open and her tits perched on top of that pillow covering her ... and what was it she said about wanting a cock like mine?'

"Obviously ..." Hank agreed, coming out of his lascivious revelry regarding his voluptuous daughter's lithe and curvy body.

Maybe so, he considered it now -- given what just happened. Doris seemed okay about dildos, to ameliorate sexual tensions at least. He wondered, though, about cock relief. Hell, he expected Andy to be getting some ass -- just not at home.

'A man was different,' he spoused, 'no man gets pregnant over a few groans in the dark humping in the backseat of a car. So, virginity wasn't such a big deal as it ought to be for girls.' Hank still had a disconnect in his belief system -- it was okay for guys, but who do they do it with that doesn't affect a virgin girl? Non-virgin girls were the obvious answer, but how did those girls become non-virgins? And the thoughts in his confused mind came full circle on the virginity double standard.