Starting from Scratch Ch. 08

Chapter 8- Masquerade

The last week of October arrived and the days were still in the high sixties to mid-seventies. The nights, however, were starting to become quite chilly with the assistance of offshore winds blowing in after dark.

Two days have passed since Thomas's date with his aunt, whom he had grown up with, treated almost like a sister, and had taken to calling his cousin instead of his aunt. And now, after their torrid date night together, she was what?

He took her home the next morning and all seemed to settle down again into a routine, except that Emma would get up each night after Thomas was asleep and slip into bed with him.

For two days she kept expecting him to say something about her being in bed with him come morning, but he was strangely silent on the subject. Well, she supposed, she would have a lot to think about too if she had just spent the night fucking one of her brothers, cousins, or uncles.

Strangely though, now that he had finally fucked his aunt, Emma was surprised at how unaffected she was by it. She didn't feel revolted or repulsed. She wasn't really sure how she felt. Though, if she was going to be honest with herself, of all her feelings about Thomas and Anna, more than anything, she found herself feeling jealous that it was Anna that Thomas had finally slept with!

As for the topic of incest, well, honestly, her newest and most dominant feeling on the subject was curiosity. Anna's love for Thomas was very evident, and Thomas's love for his aunt was equally so. But, what led to it?

What happened to Anna and Thomas when they were young that led them to fall in love?

The one with his aunt, and the other with her nephew. Was there any one thing that led to it?

Was it because of a parent or the actions of a relative?

Or, was it simply chemistry?

Were their people so compatible with each other that, given time and proximity, they were just destined to fall in love; no matter what their familial relationship was?

Emma mulled over the questions then realized while feeling a droll sense of irony, that apparently, Thomas wasn't the only one with a lot to think about.

He was gone this morning when she woke up. With Anna no doubt, she assumed as she tied a robe on and walked out to the mailbox. She was nude as usual, having been puttering about the house and not really wanting to get dressed yet.

She opened the box and pulled out a handful of mail. Standing there, in her short robe that showed the bottoms of her ass-cheeks, she flipped through the mail. Most of it, as usual, was junk. She separated the bills from the junk with her fingers and then used another finger to further separate her mail from Thomas's.

Once that was done, she looked through her mail and recognized the same old bills. Mostly credit card statements. Then, she looked through Thomas's mail. Utilities. Credit card statements. Bank statements. Investment group statements, etcetera etcetera. Lastly, there was a thick black parchment-style envelope.

This one caught Emma's interest and she almost opened it. The black envelope was gilded and lettered in silver ink. There was no return address. On the back were carefully drawn, or painted, impressions of silver lips as if the sender had kissed the envelope before sending it. Emma flipped the envelope over in her hand several more times noting every detail, but she didn't open it. It was Thomas's.

Walking back into the house, she threw the junk mail away, put her mail in her Batcave, and then put Thomas's mail on his desk in his office. She only kept the black envelope. She hoped to give it to him in person so that, hopefully, he would open it and her curiosity would be sated.

It wasn't long before Thomas returned from Anna's and walked into the house. He had groceries. Well, maybe he wasn't at Anna's...

"Good morning lover boy," Emma purred teasingly, hoping she could push him into talking about his date with Anna, their sexual escapades, and what he thought of her.

"Good morning," Thomas replied with a more relaxed countenance than the passive-aggressive brooding he had been doing for weeks now.

He didn't say more so Emma prompted, "So, how was the date? What was it like fucking your aunt? Are you two a thing now? An item? Should I start making wedding preparations?"

Her tone and timbre verily dripped with sarcasm by the end. Thomas gave her a flat stare to which she just smiled as undaunted and brightly as if she were the Cheshire Cat. Then he sighed and cut his eyes to the kitchen before asking, "Would you like some breakfast?"

"Sure," Emma answered with a patient nod that said she was not going to be diverted so easily.

Thomas nodded and then led the way to the kitchen. He was quiet as he pulled the orange juice and milk out of the refrigerator, but started talking as he returned and pulled out the eggs, "I was surprised. I am still surprised."

There was a long pause as he put the eggs on the counter and looked at Emma to read her expression and see if she was going to comment. Emma just watched and listened. She had finally gotten him talking, she wasn't going to fuck it up now by jumping in.

"I don't really know what I feel, right now," Thomas admitted as he started pulling out plates and bowls, "Not how I should be feeling, I should say. I imagine what I am supposed to feel is wretched. Guilty. Loathsome. But, I don't. Does that make me a horrible person?"

"No," Emma said with a shake of her head, then grinned teasingly as she added, "Not a horrible person, but a freak maybe!"

Thomas snorted. He didn't even try to hide his grin in return at Emma's ribbing. His hands paused over the bowl he was cracking eggs into as he thought about his experiences and Emma's comments. So much had happened over the past year. Some of it was bad. Some of it was good. Some of it was just still too raw for him to think about without wincing. But Anna and Emma, they had both been balms to his injured soul this past month. First Emma with her blunt, older step-sister way of flirting, and then came Anna.

Anna was different. He had known her almost all his life. She was an old flame. A love that hadn't quite become a lover. But, she was also family. She was his aunt. She was like a sister to him as well in some ways, if he was willing to consider her a sister he had spent most of his life kissing, making out with, and now royally fucked the shit out of. And then, there was the fact that Anna looked like a much younger spitting image of his mother.

What did that mean for him, and his mom?

Had he been harboring some form of incestuous love for his mother all these years and not even recognized it?

"I'll accept that," He replied with a grin, "If you do."

"Me!" Emma cried, her voice dripping with innocence, "What have I done, to be labeled a freak?"

Thomas coughed a laugh as he leveled a disbelieving stare at her as she smiled back at him, and then he let his eyes slide down her nearly naked body. At the moment she was only covered by the meagerest of filmy robes. Emma watched his eyes dip down to her breasts and her eyes followed. Just to make a point she pulled the sash that held her robe together and let it fall open exposing her perky B-cup breasts, her athletically toned belly, and her completely hairless pussy.

"Nudity is not freaky," Emma objected in a sensual purr, "It's natural. We were made to be naked. I just happen to love being in my natural state."

"It's a little freaky," Thomas teased as he lingered in his admiration, then he raised an eyebrow as a thought occurred to him, "And, as you said, a true nudist doesn't care if her family members see her naked. So, you may not have had sex with your dad and brothers, but after seeing you naked, I'm pretty positive they thought about having sex with you!"

"I never said that," Emma objected.

"Yes you did," Thomas laughed as he gestured his egg white soaked fork he was using to whip the eggs at Emma, "You said, "No woman, especially a familial female, prances around a naked man unless she is interested in him, or is a nudist and doesn't care if she is seen by anyone." I.E. your dad, brothers, cousins, and uncles. That has to qualify as a little freaky."

Emma actually blushed and looked away before replying in a humbled voice, "I wasn't a nudist when I lived at home, so it doesn't count."

"You weren't," Thomas sniggered as he returned to preparing breakfast, "I would have thought you were always this self-confident."

"Pfff," Emma blew air out between her lips derisively, "No girl is self-confident from age ten to, well, ever."

"You could have fooled me," Thomas mumbled, then added more strongly, "You have fooled me!"

"My self-confidence has been hard-earned," Emma said as her chin came up and her voice took on a determined warmth, "In middle school and high school I was five foot two inches just as I am now. From age twelve to fourteen I went from ninety-five pounds to a hundred and forty, and it was all hips, ass, and thighs. I got no boobs, I still barely have any..."

"What you got looks mighty fine to me," Thomas mumbled.

"Thanks," Emma chirped, then obviously looked down at his crotch and added, "What you got looks mighty fine to me too!"

Thomas grinned, and Emma returned it challengingly, then she sighed and continued with her story, "Anyway, I hated myself like I think most girls do at that age. Well, unless they are blessed with Aphrodite's face, and stacked with a body that makes a fifteen-year-old look like a twenty-fi-year-old."

Thomas gave Emma a curious look to which she snapped, "You know what I mean! A hundred and twenty-five pounds. A figure eight body. C to G-cup breasts. A teeny tiny little waist. Oh, and a perfect serpentine belly, the perfect mix of flat and curvily feminine. Hips just the right breadth. A large capital-C ass from profile while having a perfect upside-down heart from behind. Oh, and the legs. The legs have to be the perfect mix of long, thick, and shapely. Thick calves, small ankles, and perfect square feet with toes that curve perfectly from the big toe all the way to the pinky toe. Only then will the girl possibly feel confident in her looks, and usually, if she is, then she becomes over-confident because everyone crows about how beautiful she is and every guy she meets throws themselves at her."

"You ladies obsess way too much over your looks," Thomas quipped.

Emma gasped in shocked outrage and laughed all at the same time as she said, "So says the guy who's had nothing but "holy fuck!" hot women throwing themselves at him!"

She paused for a breath and then continued, "Oh, and born and raised in a commercialized society where every fucking thing from cradle to grave is sold with oversensualized and sexualized girls. And by girls, I mean, some of those models in those lingerie catalogs are only fourteen. Sex sells everything. And if you're not a size zero, have lips like a Bratz doll, tits, and legs like a Barbie doll, an ass like Kim Kardashian, and are as hairless as a newborn babe down there, then you're ugly!"

"Holy fuck Emma," Thomas sighed and shook his head as he looked her up and down again, "Riled up much?"

"Yes!" Emma admitted with a nod, "I was not one of those girls! I was short and fat! I had no tits, and an ass a mile wide! At least, that's how I felt then..."

"So what changed," Thomas asked.

"I graduated high school and never looked back," Emma said, but then she stopped as she thought about her past, then she shook her head and continued, "That's not true. I was still self-conscious all the way until I got my Private Investigators license. I started working out, and I took self-defense classes. The last two were huge boons to my ego. Not at first, mind. But later, after I started seeing results I started liking myself a lot more as I trimmed down my ass and toned up my thighs and abdominals. I started running, biking, and surfing. If it was a beach activity I started doing it. As I got more fit I felt more confident. Guys and girls started hitting on me, and that led to me feeling even better about myself. Eventually, my oversized bathing suits became bikinis, then my bikinis became micro-bikinis, and now, I love my body. Especially naked. I am fucking hot as hell and I know it. I'm not vain, narcissistic, or arrogant. I know that there are other women out there more beautiful than I am. It's just, I finally figured out that I was born with this body. If I don't like it, then I can put in the work to change it as best I can. However, if I don't love myself, how can I ever expect anyone else to love me?"

"True enough, I suppose," Thomas agreed as he poured the whipped eggs into a skillet.

There was a palpable silence for several minutes as Thomas whisked the eggs in the skillet and put bread in the toaster. Emma retrieved the orange juice and half-and-half from the countertop and put them on the table before putting a pot of coffee on to percolate.

Thomas went back to the eggs, and Emma pulled out two plates and two glasses. Thomas finished the eggs and Emma made coffee. Thomas piled eggs and toast onto the plates and then both he and Emma sat at the breakfast table by a window looking out at the beach.

It was a day for staying inside and cuddling up on the couch with a lover or a good book. The sky was silver with turbulent gray clouds stretching from horizon to horizon, and the ocean was a dark undulating mass crashing against the white sand beach in a cascade of white foam.

Thomas and Emma didn't notice.

He was caught up in his thoughts while she ate robotically. She watched him and waited until her patience ran out. Slowly, deliberately, she set her silverware down and stared at Thomas.

"So, that's it? Emma said, suddenly breaking the silence.

"Hmm," Thomas hummed questioningly, obviously not understanding what she was asking.

Emma hissed in disappointment and shook her head. Of course, Thomas didn't know what she was annoyed about. He could be so... frustrating sometimes!

She looked up, her emerald green eyes flashing as she caught his gaze, "Two nights ago. These last two mornings and waking to find me in bed with you. The fact that I slept with you and Anna. Fuck, Thomas! Anna! You fucked the shit out of her, didn't you? And then I lay my soul bare to you right here in the kitchen and all you got for me is, "True enough, I suppose!" Thomas, what the fuck do I have to do to get you to talk to me? To engage with me too?"

Thomas stopped chewing his food and stared back into her brilliant emerald green eyes with honest surprise. He took in her curly brown pompadour, her freckled burnished gold skin, her thick brown eyebrows, her sharp fox-faced features with a slightly turned-up nose, and her plump mouth. He admired her slim shoulders. The toned lines of her arms. Her perky ski-slope breasts. Her rosy areolas and nipples.

Thomas raised his stormy aqua-green eyes back to hers and said, "I was waiting on you."

Emma's eyebrows furrowed as Thomas continued, "I didn't want to make more out of it than it was. We didn't have sex. You didn't try to seduce me. So, I was waiting. Maybe I should have said something. Anyway, as for you opening up and telling me about how you felt growing up let me just say, thank you. I am deeply honored that you feel safe enough with me to share such intimate details of your life. I didn't want to trivialize it, or you, by trying to compare my life growing up to yours."

Emma seemed to visibly relax and she started eating as he continued, "Let me just say, I agree with you, and I think guys are the same growing up too. At least, I think I was. I wasn't really thrilled with myself either. Looks or personality-wise. I felt awkward, and I didn't really think anyone understood me. Physically, my body seemed to grow either too fast or too slow. Also, every time there was a big event scheduled to come up my face broke out with acne, and I felt like my hair, my eyes, and my skin were all beige. I was beige. Completely ordinary in every way whereas I was always surrounded by gorgeous women. My mom. My sisters. My cousins... Mostly Anna."

Thomas shook his head as he thought about what he had just said, then added, "I was always surrounded by beautiful women, and they were always family. Most other girls ignored me. So, when Anna quit being so possessive and Heather started showing an interest, I was all too eager to have a relationship with her. And we see where that led."

Thomas's voice reduced to a mumble as he contemplated his recent history.

"I thought I had wised up a little," He continued as he stared ahead, his eyes dilated as if he were seeing something else entirely, "Margaret is older, yes, but she was confident. She knew herself and what she wanted from life. She treated me like a younger brother until I found myself falling in love with her. I was surprised at how easy it was for me to fall in love again. After Heather. And with a woman twice my age. She's pregnant, you know. Margaret. With my children. Everything was so... perfect until it wasn't."

Thomas paused as grief swept over him. Anna had obviously broken down his barriers toward having a new relationship, but it had done nothing to soothe the hurts he had suffered.

"I don't know," Thomas sighed as he looked down at his plate of eggs, "I feel so... fucked up in the head. I loved Heather, but she cheated on me. I love Margaret, and I was starting to fall in love with Leslie, but then they sent me away. Then yesterday I realized that I have been in love with Anna ever since I was a kid! And then, this morning I woke up with you right beside me too. Anna didn't freak out, so I guess she was okay with it, and Margaret has already gotten me used to the idea of being shared between two women. So..."

"Do you love me?" Emma asked.

"I..." Thomas started hesitantly, "I have been trying to force myself to love you like a sister. But, not many guys watch their sister prance around the house and the beach naked all the time. Yes, I am incredibly attracted to you, and I think I am falling in love with you too..."

"Well," Emma finally sighed.

Thomas looked up and Emma was smiling as brightly as she ever had. She pursed her lips like she had something naughty in mind and purred, "Good! I want you to take me on a date too."

Thomas's mouth fell open and he summarily closed it. Emma's green eyes flashed with naughty intent, then purred, "By the way, this came in the mail for you."

She passed over the black envelope with the silver script and then watched Thomas as she finished her breakfast. He took the letter and turned it over in his hands as he examined the silver script and the drawn lips. He carefully opened it, read it, and then laughed.

Emma's eyebrows furrowed curiously and when Thomas looked up and saw her, he handed the letter to her with a humorous, "Did you do this?"

Emma took the letter, the paper was black also, and read the silver inked lettering.

"Salutations Mister Goodspeed," It started, "You have been cordially invited by a secret admirer to this year's Halloween Masquerade on October thirty-first hosted at the Bay Point Club.

The theme is Halloween, so attire is considered optional to formal. The only required garment is a mask.

You may invite a plus one. Or, you may fly solo and see what the night brings you. You might even find your secret admirer.

The celebration will begin at 8:00 pm and will conclude at 4:00 am.

Hope to see you soon.

Sincerely, Social Events Coordinator for the Bay Point Club, Jaina Abercrombie"

"Mysterious," Emma purred in a naughty voice, "I wonder, who could this secret admirer be?"

"Mmm," Thomas hummed as he thought over the possibilities before answering, " You know, I have no idea."

"Really," Emma deadpanned, "You have no idea. Thomas, you are really stupid for such a smart guy."