Just One Nightbyscouries©
Hi! It's been a while. In fact it's been some ten months (according to my #1 fan lovergirl) since I've submitted a story to this site. Sorry! I promise to do better next year.
Since this is my official Winter Holiday Contest story I'd like to take this opportunity to wish all my readers a great holiday season (spent hopefully with someone you love). And may you have a healthy and happy 2013.
This story is dedicated to LAUREL, the woman who's most responsible for all of us being able to enjoy this site. Thank you ma'am! And have a wonderful 2013. And yes, LITEROTICA'S main woman is reputedly wild and crazy in bed...
FYI: Approximately 4 LITEROTICA pages long (13,000+ words) the following is an Incest category story. It describes consensual sex between siblings over 18 years of age. It's a love story. Enjoy! And hey, remember: it's you the reader who decides the winners of these contests with your votes. So please take the time to cast your ballot.
Wednesday, November 21st 2012 -- Chicago, Illinois, U.S.A.
"I want you to be very careful what you say to your sister Katrina when she gets home," mom instructed. Dad looked up from his paper.
"Careful in exactly what way?" I asked back.
"She's broken up with Philip," mom answered.
"Yes!" my little sister Anna shouted as she threw her left arm up into the air.
"Finally!" I said happily as I looked over at dad. A small grin had appeared on his lips.
"Not one word! From any of you. And that includes you Charles Williams," mom ordered.
"I didn't say a word," dad protested. No one in the family had ever really liked Katrina's beau. And that included mom.
"When did she dump the jerk anyway?" Anna asked. At fifteen sis wasn't worried about the niceties.
"She didn't really say. There might have been another girl involved," mom said tentatively as she glanced over at her younger daughter, clearly unsure what she should tell her fifteen year old.
"I told you he was an idiot! That just proves everything I ever said about that--" I left off the 'asshole' but everyone in the room was able to complete the sentence.
But it was Anna who delivered the best line. "It couldn't have been for another girl, I don't think that weirdo even likes girls," she said. An opinion I'd held since the first time I'd seen the wimpy looking, beret wearing Philip Danson.
"She was crying when I talked to her on the phone so I don't want any of you to say one word," mom ordered.
That prick had made my big sister cry? I was boiling inside. If Philip had been in the room at that instant he just might never have left it.
Katrina Astrid Williams, twenty-one years old and a junior at Carleton College in Minneapolis, a blond who put lie to every dumb blond joke ever written, a lovely girl who was as nice as she was beautiful, was due home the next day for Thanksgiving weekend with the family.
And I, her eighteen year old brother, had been eagerly awaiting her return from school for weeks. I was in love with her! Always have been. And I'm pretty sure I always will be. In every possible way! In ways I shouldn't be. And Katrina didn't have a clue about my real feelings.
I was just the little brother. Cute maybe but also a pest!
Thanksgiving Day - Dinner
It was just after four in the afternoon when Katrina arrived home the next day -- she'd caught a drive from a friend at school who also lived in Chicago. After a more than four hundred mile trip, sis looked pretty bedraggled as she trooped through the front door.
"Honey," dad said happily as he engulfed his eldest daughter in his arms. The hug seemed to last minutes and when dad finally released her we could all see the tears running down Katrina's cheeks. For seconds none of us knew what to say. I think all four of us were stunned; Katrina had always been the strong one in the family.
"So," I finally ventured as I held out my arms, "you don't have a hug for your favorite brother?" Then, without giving her a chance to say a word, I wrapped my arms around her. A second later mom and Anna and dad had joined us in a family hug.
I knew my sister was crying as I held her, heck I could feel her chest heaving. But even as I held her in my arms I couldn't help but think of her breasts, even though covered with a bra, a shirt and a sweater, that were pressing into my chest. My nose, buried in her blond curls, inhaled the intoxicating scent that was Katrina. She was home! My big sister was crying but I was happy!
Thanksgiving dinner at the Williams, even with one member clearly hurting, was always a loud, happy, raucous family affair. Jokes and laughter and an endless repeating of old family stories as we all waded through the mountains of food. Looking at us, all relatively trim, would have made anyone wonder where all the food was going to.
And Kat, although mostly quiet during the meal, a spectator more than a participant, still graced us throughout with shy smiles and grins. Sad grins that near broke my heart. And although sis had tried to valiantly hold up her end during the dinner, as soon as the desert dishes had been cleared just after seven, Katrina fled to her room.
"Should I go up?" dad asked.
"I'll go," Anna offered.
"She's tired," mom cautioned, "maybe it's best to let her rest for a while."
So dad and I settled down on the couch in the den -- then watched a bit of the College football game before switching to the NFL at just after eight. Mind you I couldn't keep my mind on the Jets-Patriots matchup, instead I was thinking about my sister upstairs.
I hated to see Katrina sad but at the same time I'd immediately recognized the opportunity. And I knew that if I didn't act soon I'd never act. I'd never have the courage to let her know the real feelings I had for her. The incestuous feelings!
Anna split almost as soon as she and mom had finished cleaning up the kitchen -- she was spending the night at one of her friends. A Thanksgiving night sleepover for five or six fifteen year olds! I pitied her hosts; dad and I had suffered a similar fate a couple of months earlier. And worse still was the fact that the fifteen year olds were planning on waking up by three in the morning and then trouping out on a Black Friday buying spree.
Mom didn't reappear in the den til just before ten. She'd been up to see Kat. "She had a nap. She's feeling better now. We talked a bit," she told dad and I as soon as she'd settled herself down on the couch between us.
"I'll go up later," I offered casually. "Maybe she'll want to watch a flic or something."
"Would you?" mom asked hopefully. I nodded. "Just make sure you don't mention Philip," mom cautioned some minutes later when I lifted myself up off the couch and told her I might as well go up.
"I'll look in later," she answered as she snuggled up against dad. Perfect I thought to myself as I slowly climbed the stairs. My mind was racing. Planning. Plotting. Thinking. Wondering. Was this the 'now or never' moment?
I knocked again. I was standing in front of Katrina's bedroom door. I'd just showered and shaved. Slapped on deodorant and after shave. All I had on was a tee shirt and sweat pants. It was ten-thirty. Dad and mom were still downstairs in the den.
"Who is it?" A barked out demand. I simply waited without replying. I knew my sister's curiosity would eventually get the better of her. I knew her weaknesses.
"Anna?" she finally asked. No answer. "Mom?" again sis received no answer. A second later the door was pulled open. "Oh it's you. What do you want?" she demanded when she saw me.
"Forget it, you probably wouldn't be able to help me anyway," I answered and then started to turn away.
I'd taken only three steps before her peremptory command rang out. "Robert, you come back here!" So I did. "What do you want anyway?" she then asked as I slipped past her into her bedroom and sat down on her bed.
I was still trying to figure out my best course of action when she added, "And I don't want to hear one question about Philip. Not one! Do you understand?" Her words had given me my opening.
"Hah! It's always about you isn't it? Always about Katrina! Even though you're the smart, beautiful one. The favorite," I accused angrily. Perhaps the least fair thing I'd ever said to sis. I hated starting that way but I knew that I had to get her out of her funk and fast. "If Anna was just a little older I'd ask her. She'd help."
"Me! I'm the favorite? Since when? And ask Anna about what?"
"I can't tell mom. She'd have a fit. I was hoping that maybe you'd help me but I should have known better." I knew Katrina wouldn't be able to refuse the bait.
"I've always been there for you," sis answered, a hurt look on her face. "Is something wrong? Why can't you tell mom? What is it?"
"You've got your own problems ... I shouldn't have bothered you ... sorry," I answered as I started to stand up.
"You're not going anywhere. Now talk," she ordered as she pushed me back down. A second later she'd grabbed her computer chair and had plopped herself down on it facing me.
"What do you think of Sarah?" I asked once she'd settled herself. "I mean really think of her." Sarah was my current girlfriend.
"Why?" I said nothing. "Are you two having problems?" I could see that Katrina had totally forgotten Philip. I still didn't answer. "She's not pregnant is she?"
Jesus! Pregnant? That was better than I'd hoped for! I shook my head no in answer. "Of course not! It's something else."
"You can't tell anyone ... not mom, not dad, not--"
"Tell them what?"
"Okay, okay, okay, I promise," sis finally conceded.
"Cross your heart," I demanded. Glaring, she quickly crossed her heart.
"It's sorta weird," I started.
"What is?" Katrina demanded when I didn't immediately go on.
"You might get mad at me ... maybe I shouldn't--"
"WHAT ...IS ...IT!" Katrina, although she could be as kind as anyone, and had been to me the whole time I'd been growing up, also could be impatient with someone who didn't get to the point. Which of course I knew.
"Well, do you like Sarah?" I asked again.
I could see for just a second Katrina wasn't one hundred percent sure how to answer. She clearly didn't want to commit herself before she knew where I was going. "She's not a blond," she finally offered with a smile, restating an old running family joke.
No one was as blond as the Williams. We were all blonds! Light haired blonds. Mom and all us kids anyway. A golden hair color inherited from mom's Swedish ancestors. My mom, first name Ingrid, and born a Pederson, had grown up on a farm in Wisconsin. She was the daughter of Svend Pedersen and Astrid Olsen, dairy farmers whose parents had immigrated to America in the nineteen twenties. I'd inherited Svend as my middle name while Katrina had gotten Astrid as hers. We'd inherited our blondness from generations of Olsens and Pedersens.
Even dad, of Scottish stock, was light skinned and light haired, a sandy red, clearly some Viking raider hundreds of years ago had injected some Scandinavian genes into a highland lass.
All our lives we'd been subject to blond jokes and had responded in kind. An inside family joke had always been we 'blonds' against the world.
So I chuckled dutifully in acknowledgement of Katrina's blond line and then asked, "And what do you think of Mrs. Thompson?"
For a second sis looked confused but then asked, "Sarah's mom?"
I figured it was time to ratchet up the conversation, to give my sister a little shock. "She hit on me," I said, then quickly looked down shyly.
It took a few seconds for my words to register. Then, as comprehension dawned, a shocked look appeared on her face. "Mrs. Thompson hit on you? Like ... like ... sexually?" she finally stammered. I nodded. "Her daughter's boyfriend?"
"Emily has needs," I said softly.
"Emily? Who the fuck is Emily?' sis demanded. My sister never uses swear words. In fact I don't think I'd ever heard her use the "f" word even once. Which demonstrated to me just how excited Katrina was. And how bad an influence Carleton College had been on her. She should never have gone up there.
"Mrs. Thompson, her names Emily--"
"What did she do?" A demand. An imperial demand in fact.
And so I told her. And it was a true story. Oh I glossed over some parts and embellished others but essentially what I told sis over the next ten minutes was true. Mrs. Emily Thompson, my girlfriend's mother, forty-two years old and with big tits, had hit on me. In fact she'd done a lot more than that! It had started slowly, just a slow, growing realization on my part that my girlfriend's mom was looking at me differently than she should.
It had come to a head early last summer. When I'd been up spending a week at the end of June with the Thompson family at their cottage on Lake Michigan just north of Sheboygan. School had just finished for the year.
"It was just little things at first. Maybe it even started before we got to the cottage, during May and June," I said shyly.
"What little things?"
I blushed. Looked down. "I don't know. Touches. Little smiles. Bumping into to me. You know ... her breasts," I stammered.
"She pushed her breasts into you?"
"I mean it wasn't obvious or anything. Just little things. Looks. Smiles. Words. I wasn't sure at first if--"
"What words? What did she say?" sis demanded as she interrupted.
"I don't know... just words." I pretended to think for a minute. "Like one day when I was washing the dishes and she was drying ... after lunch. Sarah and her dad and sister were in the other room. I only had my bathing suit on ... no shirt."
"And?" Katrina encouraged when I didn't immediately add anything more. She was clearly interested in my story.
"It's embarrassing," I told my sister, then pretended I couldn't meet her eyes. "She said I had a good butt," I finally sputtered out. "Not exactly those words but something like that. Then she said my arms, my upper body looked great. She ran her fingers over my biceps. Then touched my bum."
"She touched your bum?" Sis was outraged. "What a slut!"
"That was all she did that time but... and then the next day."
"What happened the next day?"
"She showed me her breasts ... her nipples."
"She what?" Kat was clearly flabbergasted by my recital. She jumped at least six inches out of her chair when she heard the word nipples.
"She asked me to put suntan oil on her back. We were on the beach. Lying on towels. Sarah and her sister were swimming in the lake. Her dad was in town. She told me to undo the strap of her top before I started. And then when I started to rub the oil she sat up a bit. 'On the sides too', she ordered, I saw the whole side of her breast, then her nipple. Then when I started to oil her side she turned so that my fingers touched her breast. I tried to pull back ... I didn't know what was going on ... I was worried Sarah might come back any time. When I looked up to check, Emily, I mean Mrs. Thompson, grabbed my hand." I was shaking my head as I told Katrina my tale.
"But she's married!" sis protested.
"The next day was worse," I promised ominously.
"Worse than that? What happened?" Katrina might have been angry at Mrs. T but she was certainly curious to hear all the details.
"Everyone was going to town except me that day. To visit some old aunt or someone. Then at the last minute Emily remembered that she just had to stay for some reason or another. I don't even know what she told them. I was down on the beach and all of a sudden she was there. In her bathing suit."
Katrina was on the edge of her chair. In fact so close that our knees were touching. "Did she want you to put the oil on her again?" Sis was clearly imagining the scene.
"She said she'd do me," I said softly. "Said she didn't want me to get a sunburn. She told me to lie down. On my back."
"She touched you?" I nodded. "Where?"
"She took her time. My shoulders. My chest. Then my legs. My calves and then she moved higher. She talked the whole time she was doing it."
"What'd she say?"
"Just things about my body. About my muscles. How I was so strong. Then she said she wished she was eighteen again. As she ran her palms over my thighs."
"Eighteen! She's over forty! Doesn't she have any shame?"
I ignored Kat's outburst. "Then she did my stomach. Slowly. She circled her fingers around and around. Each time they moved lower. Like caresses. I got excited."
"She didn't--" I nodded yes. "She touched you? Through your bathing suit?" Up til that second I don't think Katrina had thought it had gone beyond mere flirtation.
"She pulled my suit down."
"Ohhhh myyyy gawd!"
"I know. I didn't know what to do. I mean it was really weird."
"Then what happened?"
"My ... my thing ...it ... I had an erection ... I couldn't help it," I stammered out, clearly trying to let sis know how embarrassed I'd been. Actually, Mrs. T's pulling down of my shorts and grabbing my cock had been one of the most exciting things that had ever happened to me! "She kissed it," I added before Katrina could say anything else.
For seconds she simply mumbled out some incomprehensible words. Then finally asked semi coherently, "She performed oral sex on you?" I nodded. "In public?" I nodded again. "And you let her? You betrayed Sarah?" I looked away from sis's steely gaze.
"I know," I conceded, a guilty look on my face. "But what could I do?"
"Did you cum? Ejaculate?" she asked.
"I couldn't help myself. She was..."
"She was what?"
"She was able to ..." Again I gave Katrina a sad, abashed look before continuing, "... swallow ... to get all of me in her mouth."
"My cock. She swallowed it all." Kat started to mumble again. "Sarah can't. Can't get all of me in. She says I'm too big. No one's been able to before. But Mrs. T..."
"How many girls have you been with?" Outraged. Angry. "You're just a boy. Fuck!" sis was not happy. But Philip was definitely no longer at the top of her agenda. And she also now knew that her little brother was neither as young nor perhaps as small as she'd always assumed. Her cute little eighteen year old brother was a man? Part one of my plan had been a complete success.
"She was much better at it than Sarah," I started.
"Better? At--" Sis clearly didn't want to say the words but I was quite happy to wait her out. "—at blow jobs?" she finally finished. I nodded. "Isn't that fucking wonderful," my sweet sister muttered. "You know she should be put in jail don't you? That there are laws against things like that." Katrina clearly wasn't impressed with Mrs. Thompson's performance. Or mine for that matter. But I could see that Mrs. T was taking most of sis's blame. But then she asked, "It was only the one time wasn't it?" Sis could see the answer in my eyes even before I shook my head no.
"You didn't have real sex with her did you?"
I nodded. "The day before we left. On the beach. Outside."
"And where was your supposed girlfriend?"
"What could I do? I was at their cottage. I couldn't leave. I hated it," I told sis, a semi whine in my voice. In fact, although I'd been nervous as hell those few days at the cottage, worried about not only Sarah finding out but also about her dad, they'd also been extraordinarily exciting. I'd been living on the edge and I'd loved it.
"At dinner she'd twine her leg around mine. Run the bottom of her foot up my leg. And Sarah and her dad were right there."
"She's a pig!"
"You don't know how happy I was to get out of there," I told sis. A small lie. "I didn't know what to say to Sarah. I knew it'd kill her if she found out. And her mother was so--"
"So what?" she asked when I didn't continue.
"She likes it better." Katrina's eyes crunched up. "She made noises ... she was wild," I told my sister even as I remembered my afternoon on the beach with Mrs. Thompson. I'd never experienced anything like it before.