Julia

Trying to control my passion was nearly impossible. My cock was rubbing against her sex, my hands were just inches from her huge buttocks, and my nose was bombarded with the smell of her freshly washed hair. Looking down at her, I could see directly into the cavernous crease between her breasts, and for a moment, I fought the urge to rip her shorts down and stab my cock into her virgin sex, working her on my cock even as she screamed, before unleashing a torrent of cum inside her young womb.

But she spoke, and my mind drifted back to the present. Julia's hands had slipped down to the tops of my ass cheeks, and she was squeezing them softly, allowing her hands to work the flesh gently, almost imperceptibly.

"I know that you like women, and you love sex, Matt. And I'm glad that my friends are with someone that doesn't maul them in the back seats of cars, has their way with them, and then never speaks to them again. I've told you all that before."

"Jules, you're not pimping..."

"I know, I know. They've all wanted you as much as you wanted them. What they see in a 40 year old guy, I'll never know, but still..."

She laughed, even as her hands were squeezing my ass cheeks harder. She was rubbing her mound against my cock, grinding her breasts into me, and I realized Julia was masturbating herself against me.

"I'm sorry Matt, I love you, and you know that. You've taken such good care of me."

Once again, I looked into her eyes and fought the urge to kiss her deeply, as a man kisses a woman. But Julia was my daughter, conceived by a son and his mother, and whatever feelings of lust I felt were overcome with the fear of knowing I could very well lose her when she learned of my deception.

Julia had begun to moan, and her grinding against me grew stronger. She had begun kissing my chest as she worked herself towards orgasm, licking the sweat off me, tasting my skin. I held her, my hands finally drifting to her buttocks. I gasped when I clamped my hands down over them, I had never touched her ass before, though I had thought about it more times than she would ever know.

"Oh God, Matty, I'm Cumming...I'm sorry...I..."

"Shhh, it's ok sweetie..." "Oh God, yes, yes..." she groaned, lightly biting my nipple, pressing her body against me even tighter. I squeezed her ass, pummeling the fleshy, taut cheeks in my hands, working them completely. Her shorts were so tight that I could feel her muscles flexing, though the material made it impossible for me to slip my hands beneath.

My cock had become trapped between her legs, and though she may not have realized it, she was pumping it slightly as her body undulated back and forth. I felt my balls begin to tighten, and I tried to hold back.

Julia exploded in my arms, crying out, rubbing her breasts up and down, as she slumped to her knees in front of me. Just then, my cock exploded, shooting a huge rope of cum directly into Julia's face.

She moaned my name, even as the cum splattered across her forehead, coating it and her right eye in my seed. A second blast hit her lips, and chin, and her tongue snaked out. She turned her head, and a third rope coated her nostril, a small bubble forming when she breathed out. She opened her mouth to speak, and got a mouthful of cum when the final load landed on the back of her tongue, and across her bottom teeth.

I ran out of the room to get her a towel, but when I got back, Julia was lying on the floor, and save for a strand of cum that had landed in her hair, she had completely cleaned her face off.

"Jules, I'm so sorry," I whispered, dropping to my knees. I looked around for a shirt, or my shorts, trying to find what she had used, but she simply smiled.

"It's okay, Matty, it was my fault. I couldn't help it. You have a beautiful body, big brother."

"Thank you," I whispered under my breath, pulling on my shorts.

It was nearly 10 o'clock before I pulled the steaks off the grill and set them down in front of the plates Julia had placed on the table out on the back deck.

She smiled as she walked out on the deck, carrying a plate with baked potatoes, and another with several ears of corn. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and she had changed into a pair of cutoff shorts and a white tank top that hadn't fit her properly in five years. Over the tank she wore one of my blue button-downs with the sleeves rolled up. Julia set the table, occasionally glancing in my direction as I turned off the gas to the grill. She repeatedly tucked a small, wet ringlet of hair behind her ear, a sure sign that she was deep in thought.

There was an uncomfortable silence as she sat down, something that had never, to my recollection, existed between us.

"Jules, about earlier..."

"Matt, it's okay, really. I don't want to talk about it. Things got crazy, but really, there's nothing else to say."

"I hate this feeling we have. It's not right."

"I'm embarrassed," she said, putting her fork down on her plate. She slumped over the table, squashing her breasts against her forearm, which was resting near the edge. Her flesh bulged up over the top of the tank, and I couldn't help but sneak a quick glance.

"What do you have to be embarrassed about?" I moved my chair closer to the table, reaching for her hand.

She finally looked over at me, and I held her gaze for a moment. Eventually she looked down at the table again, though she let me take her hand in mine.

"I'm embarrassed for watching you with Becky, I'm embarrassed about what she said, I'm embarrassed for what I said to both of you, and obviously, about what happened when she left."

"Sweetie, you didn't do anything wrong. There's truth to what you say, I told you that earlier. For some reason, I seem to think I should sleep with everyone that wants to sleep with me. I've been doing that for a while now, it's not the way I should be acting at my age."

"You're age?" she chuckled. "Matt, you're only 40 years old."

"Exactly, and still acting like I'm 18."

"And what's wrong with the way 18 year olds act?" she said, raising her eyebrows in mock offense. I could see that she was still struggling with the events of the day, but the wall was coming down rapidly.

"Nothing, so long as you're 18."

She laughed, and resumed eating.

"I hope your birthday wasn't ruined, Jules."

"Of course it wasn't, I just never really thought about what happened when one of my friends spent the night in your room with you. I heard things of course, and they'd tell me, but nothing really detailed. You're my brother, and aside from comments girls make about boys, I didn't know too much."

"But then you saw me with Becky..." "Yeah."

"I don't care about what she said, or why she said it. I mean, maybe it turns her on to think of a father and daughter making love, or..."

"You mean, brother and sister..." she corrected. I nodded, taking a sip of my beer.

"Well, anyway, it's obvious you haven't found the right person yet, and you shouldn't have sex thrown in your face the way I've done it around here. It hasn't been on purpose, but that doesn't excuse the insensitivity of it. I'm sorry, Julia, I really am. I love you so much."

We finished dinner, and Julia fell asleep with her head in my lap on the couch. I tried to wake her when the movie we started watching ended, but she was apparently exhausted, because nothing I did seemed to work.

I eased out from under her, wrapped my arms beneath her, and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. As soon as I walked, I knew it was a mistake. I had started to change Julia's bed sheets, but it was getting so late, I had to help her with dinner. The comforter, and top sheet were rolled up at the end of the bed, partially hanging on the floor. Directly in the center of the plain blue sheet was a large wet stain. I didn't want to put Julia down on the floor, and I couldn't change the sheets with her lying on them, so I carried her into my room, and placed her gently on my bed.

I pulled her socks off, and eased her under the sheet, as the cool spring air had settled in after the heat from the surprisingly warm day had dissipated.

The wind woke me several hours later, as it scattered assorted papers and folders from my desk onto the floor. A storm was moving in, and I quickly hopped out of bed to shut the windows and lower the blinds. I couldn't see a thing without the moonlight, and nearly tripped over a pair of shoes as I got back into bed.

Julia was asleep; I could hear her soft, sweet breathing, even though her face was turned in the opposite direction. She had the sheet pulled up to her chin, as the room had grown noticeably cooler, and I did the same as I crawled in bed. Julia had moved towards the center of the bed in her sleep, and my hand brushed the smooth skin of her back as I rolled over on my left side.

Closing my eyes, I quickly opened them again when I realized that I had felt bare skin when I brushed Julia's back. I hadn't felt the cotton tank top she was wearing when I put her in bed. My cock immediately rose between my legs, as if someone had flipped a switch to "on."

"My God," I whispered, nuzzling closer to her. After a long struggle with my own lust, I eventually rolled on to my back, tucked my arm behind my head, and fell asleep to the sound of Julia's rhythmic breathing. It was nice to have someone in bed beside me again. Someone I loved.

Julia

I developed breasts much earlier than anyone else my age. Becky would tease me about it relentlessly, as would the other kids in my class. I was wearing a bra before most girls discovered that boys weren't all "icky." As I got older, they continued to grow, and I was wearing a D-Cup by the time I was a freshman in high school. The boys had been flirting with me since Junior High, especially the older ones, and no matter how much embarrassment I endured, my body continued to betray me.

Hiding my figure was impossible. Becky's breasts are huge, but they match her frame. For me, my tiny waist and narrow back only further accentuated my chest, and no matter how baggy the sweatshirts were in the winter, people noticed. Married men would stop and stare as I walked by them on the streets. I heard the comments, felt the looks, and grew more and more self-conscious. I begged to be excused from gym class, since there was no way to escape watchful eyes as I jogged around the track, or did jumping jacks with the rest of the class.

Sports bras weren't much of help, as they didn't hide the sheer size of my breasts, and you couldn't wear anything but a t-shirt in class. Cheerleading was a no-no, though I tried that too. But the school didn't have a uniform that would fit me, and asking my brother to pay the school to have one made just for me was more embarrassing than trying to fit into the existing uniforms in front of the other girls. I shied away from dancing, or even exercising in front of others.

I exercised at home. Matty filled the basement with all kinds of equipment that we both used, but I mainly took advantage of the treadmill. For long periods of time, I would go down into the basement, slip on my headphones, and drift away while I jogged. Sometimes, I would get lost in the music, only to find that I had been running for nearly an hour.

All that work on the treadmill helped me escape life for a while. It didn't even really matter to me that I was strengthening my heart, or toning my body, the health benefits were a distant second to the peace I found being able to jog without feeling like a hundred pairs of eyes were watching.

But another problem emerged that I hadn't even considered. All that running toned my legs, as well as my ass. I had always possessed a strangely shaped body, but the treadmill made things worse. My back is unusually narrow, giving me the appearance of one of those girls in the dirty Japanese cartoons. At least, I thought so. One day, I happened to look at my ass in a mirror, and I completely freaked. It was as if a thousand bees had stung each cheek, and they had swollen to immense proportions. I could never figure out why kids at school starting calling me J-Lo, especially Becky, until that moment. Immediately below my waist, the cheeks of my ass swelled out, and seemed to be defying gravity, even more so than my breasts.

My ass had become huge! I watched myself in a mirror, walking, seeing the flesh sway gently back and forth. I thought I had become Jessica Rabbit nearly overnight. They say that some women possess an "hourglass" figure, well; I thought I looked like a figure eight.

Anyway, I got past the self-doubt and emerged a confident young woman. Matty was so supportive, and even though he's over 20 years older than I am, I can't imagine being connected emotionally to anyone the way I am with him. I grew to appreciate my body, and though I didn't attempt to show it off, I stopped hiding behind baggy clothes. It was nice to wear things that were a little more stylish. I didn't have to hope for the cool October air to roll around each year, when sweatshirts could be worn without questions, and I didn't have to fear the coming spring. I could wear bathing suits around more people than just Becky and Matty.

But sex was something that I couldn't quite deal with. I don't know if the act itself reminded me of a time when I was ashamed of my own body, or if it subconsciously brought about the feelings I had whenever the men on the streets would stare at me walking home from school, but for whatever reason, talk of sex, whether it was on television, in the movies, or with my friends, made me uncomfortable. That discomfort evolved into embarrassment, even as I began to learn about pleasuring myself. I couldn't deny the feelings that were beginning to enter my thoughts more and more. I would wake up in the middle of the night literally unable to stop myself from stroking my skin, tracing the slope of my breasts, gliding my fingers over my wet sex, and then down between my buttocks.

My friends talked of hand jobs, and blowjobs, and of boys feeling them up in movie theaters or in the backs of cars. I kept my mouth shut most of the time, or I just laughed and giggled when I believed it was appropriate for the conversation. After a while, I began to admire my body, I would study it in the mirror, and pose for an invisible lover, squeezing my breasts together with my arms, bending over at the waist to see them hang like ripe fruit dangling from a forbidden tree. I began to wear tighter jeans, and tighter skirts, because I found I liked the attention my ass got. I liked knowing that most men I walked by would stop and look, even teachers. Hell, even Matty looked.

I began to talk to Becky about my ass, as I felt I had become preoccupied with it. Becky clicked on to the Internet one night, and showed me a website for a Latin girl named Vida Guerra, who had become popular mainly because of the prominence of her ass. Becky told me that "Asses like" mine were "in." But I don't think she every really understood what I was trying to say. I felt like I was developing some sort of weird fetish, as I found myself checking out every ass I encountered, from my friend Kelly, a gorgeous black girl whom Matty had taken a liking to, to Miss Kendall, my art teacher, whom, coincidentally, was my favorite teacher. She had taken a liking to Matty at a school conference, and one Saturday morning I found her wearing one of my brother's button-downs, standing in the kitchen making coffee.

I tried explaining it further to Becky, but when she asked me quite bluntly if I was hoping to get fucked in the ass, the conversation ended. She knew she had embarrassed me, and apologized. But part of my angry reaction to the comment was the mere suggestion of it in the first place. I assumed that only some gay men practiced anal sex, but an Internet search engine proved me wrong. I didn't click on any of the sites, though I was tempted.

I just sat and stared at all the hits I got, trying to imagine how it was possible. I was sure it couldn't possibly feel good for anyone but the lucky guy, but the truth was, I hadn't even seen an actual pornographic video to that stage in my life. I had had only one encounter with a boy that didn't last very long, and what little did happen I could barely remember. What did I know about sex?

I had been masturbating regularly, though always after I knew my brother had gone to bed, and recently, I had begun to stimulate my asshole with a wet finger. Eventually, I had enough courage to slide my finger up to the second knuckle inside my smaller hole, while stimulating my sex with the other. The orgasms became so powerful, that I began using two fingers in each place. Just before I came, I would lift a breast to my lips and suckle on a hardened nipple. The hand I always used for this was not the hand pleasuring my ass. Strangely, I always imagined it was Matty on top of me, driving his cock into me, my mouth, my sex, and my ass, between my breasts, showering me with cum. It was not out of the ordinary for me to greet him after he got home from work by sitting on his lap.

I felt his eyes on me, assessing the size of my breasts, watching them jiggle, watching my ass sway back and forth as I walked, or bent over to vacuum beneath the couch. I could feel his cock growing hard beneath my ass on more than one occasion, and although I was fully aware of how wrong it was, nobody else made me feel as beautiful, loved, and as confident as Matty did. I wanted to share everything with him.

Had anyone seen me bringing myself to orgasm, or know what I thought about while fingering myself, I would have died from embarrassment. Especially after I discovered the pleasure of anal stimulation. But one night, after Matty had taken Kelly to bed, and I listened to her moans of ecstasy for nearly an hour, I couldn't help myself. Lying on my bed completely naked, writing and moaning, my hips pumping up off the bed, my fingers furiously working my holes, Becky appeared at the foot of my bed. I realized I had cried out Matty's name multiple times, and had ordered him to suck my tits, and fuck my ass.

Most of the time, I was shocked to hear the obscenities that came out of my own mouth, especially when I began fantasizing about having Matty's babies. When I saw Becky standing there, besides the humiliation of just being caught doing what I was doing, I wondered how much she had heard.

"Oh my God," I cried. "Becky, what the hell?" I quickly tried to cover myself as Becky just stared down at me.

"Holy shit, Jules, they're fucking huge. I knew they were big, but my God." She reached down and picked up my discarded bra from the floor, found the label, and laughed incredulously.

I watched her intently as I felt my cheeks and breasts flush red with embarrassment. Becky looked back at me and began to undress.

"What are you doing?" I asked, pulling the pillow I was clutching over my breasts and sex tighter against me.

"You are so beautiful, Julia." I hadn't heard her call me anything but Jules in years. For some reason, it struck a nerve with me, and I smiled.

"Thank you, Becky." She was completely naked, and I examined her body. There weren't many people in the world that had seen her without baggy clothes on in years, but I was one of them. Her breasts were extremely large, though much smaller than my own, and her body was fleshy and soft, but not unattractive. She glided on to the bed, moving up between my legs, smiling at me. Her beautiful brown eyes were sparkling with something I later understood to be lust.

"Becky, I'm, I'm not gay..."

"Neither am I," she laughed. "But I've never seen anything more beautiful than you masturbating just now in my life. I interrupted you, and I want to help you cum. Please let me, Julia."

She pulled the pillow away from me, and I was surprised to find that I didn't put up much of a fight. Becky was the first person to ever see me naked, and despite my embarrassment, there was a part of me that was secretly thrilled to be so exposed to someone else's eyes. She could see every part of me, especially when she had walked in while my legs were spread, and my fingers were inside of me. Only one other person, in fact, had seen me even partially naked, save for when I wore a bathing suit, and that was Jason Reynolds, a friend of a classmate who was in town for the summer after his first year of college. I had agreed to go out with him; he was strong, handsome, and kind.