The Jacuzzi Ch. 01

Author's Note to the Readers: Unlike some of my other shorter multi-chapter story lines, I have allowed this story to run its own course at its own pace, hoping to portray the main characters in a more three-dimensional manner. I encourage to you to pour a nice glass of wine in a quiet setting and indulge in the tale of two siblings gradually crossing into a loving, incestuous relationship.

The Jacuzzi

The Uber dropped Megan Williams and her brother, Jason, at the entryway of a long, sprawling driveway to the estate. The driver had said he'd be happy to drive them up to the house itself, but they politely declined. They both got out and began a long, leisurely quarter-mile walk toward the place they had called home throughout their childhood and into early adulthood. Megan was now 30, and her older brother Jason was 31. Each step carried a new burst of nostalgic memories.

The siblings walked along silently, side-by-side, for several minutes. Jason noticed Megan shiver despite the warm early-Summer Los Angeles weather. He put an arm around her and pulled her toward him, and she allowed her head to be slightly sheltered against his broad shoulder.

They were both dressed in black.

Jason lived with his wife in Sacramento. Megan stilled lived in L.A., but across town in Glendale. They hadn't seen each other in nearly a year. It wasn't by choice: they had always been close friends as well as siblings, quite fond of each other, but they both were incredibly busy in their different careers. They were happy to be in each other's presence again, but not under these unfortunate circumstances.

A week earlier, Jason had been pulled out of a meeting to take an urgent call from his sister.

"It's Mom," Megan said simply.

Jason gripped the phone. "Gone?"

"Not yet...but close."

Jason was on a flight just a few hours later, and he arrived at the hospital in time to join Megan in spending a few final hours with their mother, who finally passed peacefully just before midnight. While she hadn't been healthy the last couple of years, her sudden downturn had caught everyone by surprise. But she was at rest now, and the siblings were thankful that there had been, toward the end, just enough consciousness in their mother to recognize that they were both there. She died with a smile.

Their father had died twelve years previously. He had been a very wealthy developer, and the siblings were thankful for the fact that he had left a significant estate to their mom. They had each received a sizeable chunk, too, but to know that their mother would never have to worry about money in her golden years was a relief to them. Upon her passing, the entirety family fortune was to be split equally between the two of them. Financially, they were now set up pretty nicely. The only asset that would require a mutual decision was what to do with the house, which their mother had left to them as equal owners.

Megan and Jason were both successful in their own careers and living comfortably in their own homes with their respective spouses. Jason and his wife, Theresa, were childless, Megan and her husband George had five-year-old daughter, Julie. They walked slowly up to the house, because they both instinctively knew that it was likely to be the last time. They had already agreed to sell the place that neither of them intended to live in again.

The house was truly an outright mansion. Just before the time Jason and Megan had been born, their father had purchased a large plot of land in Bel Air, a posh residential area neighboring Beverly Hills. He had taken it upon himself to design and build an almost ridiculously enormous 6-bedroom house—at the time he had been expecting (hoping?) to produce several more children. But complications during Megan's birth (she came to be barely 11 months after Jason) had rendered it impossible for their mother to conceive again. Nevertheless, their father decided to keep the big house, and the siblings had grown up around quite a few adventures throughout the expansive estate. It had not been unheard of for a single game of hide-and-seek to last all day!

Their mother had been very private, with only a few close friends, and there were no other close relatives, so the funeral had been small and intimate, with just a brief reception afterward. Megan and Jason were happy to return to a house that was now quiet, neither of them being a fan of moping around for hours with people saying how sorry they were. They'd said good-bye to Mom, they would certainly miss her, but life had to go on.

Even though Megan lived just across town, there had been agreement that she would stay at their mom's place, as would Jason, so they could sort through all the paperwork and take care of all the other complicated logistics that seemed to pile up around someone's death, especially so for someone of considerable wealth. Lawyers and bank managers, financial advisors and domestic employees...they all had to be dealt with. Then there was the task of finding the right realtor to put the house on the market. Jason's wife understandably knew that Jason would be away for a week or two. Megan's husband, George, had agreed to stay back at the house with their daughter so that Megan could focus on dealing with the estate.

A few days after the funeral, everything had been pretty much squared away. The financials were dealt with, and the house was now listed and would start showing on Sunday. Jason was in the study, at what was his father's, then his mom's desk, putting a random file away. Megan entered, waving her cell phone.

"It's after five," she declared. "No more paperwork. Let's order some food that's bad for us and cut loose."

Jason smiled at her. Megan had always been the more mischievous of the two. Whereas his normal air was that of quiet thoughtfulness, hers was generally cheerful and chatty, but not overly so. She also had a wry, sardonic wit and was more adventurous, which contrasted (as well as complimented) with his more reserved, logical way of approaching life.

"We've already been eating food that's bad for us," Jason said. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge."

"I know, but I want to double-down on the carbs with some Chinese food. Whaddya say?"

Jason regarded his sister for a moment. Like him, Megan had been moved deeply by their mother's death, but as the cheerleader of the family she was making an effort to distract them from their grief. She was no longer wearing black but was now clad in red shorts and a stylish white V-neck t-shirt. Her long, auburn hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her feet were bare. Through a brotherly lens, Jason noted that Megan was quite beautiful and in excellent shape. Her legs were toned and tanned. Her sizeable breasts were often the first thing people noticed about her—at least, that had been what all of Jason's buddies had been obsessed with throughout high school. But the most physically attractive thing about her, in his opinion, was her radiant smile.

She was smiling at him now.

"Sure," he said. "Let's throw in a little MSG with our pizza grease."

"Good choice, sir!" Megan said in a British butler's voice, as if Jason had been the one to suggest what they'd been eating for dinner. She tapped on her phone for a food delivery service. She glanced up at him once, about to ask what he wanted, but she knew what he liked. She admired his consistency.

She also had to admit to herself that Jason was quite handsome. Even dressed down in old faded jeans and a simple polo shirt, she knew he could capture more than a few glances from the ladies. His wife was lucky to have him. He stood six feet to her tall-for-a-woman five-foot-six. Like her, Jason was slender, but with a very athletic build, sculpted through a combination of good genes, hours of tennis per week, and running at least three times a week. And except for this week, of course, she knew that he was a very healthy eater.

A little over an hour later the siblings were exchanging greasy smiles, having wolfed down far too much broccoli beef and orange chicken than was necessary.

Pushing her plate away, Megan said, "You know what I'm amazed we haven't done yet?"

Jason wiped his mouth and stood to start gathering the dishes—really just polystyrene plates and cheap chopsticks. "Tell me what we haven't done yet."

"Raided Mom's bar."

Jason grimaced. "You mean Dad's bar. Mom barely drank; I'd wager the booze in that bar dates back to when Dad was alive."

"Well," Megan said, standing. "There's only one way to find out."

Their father had built a substantial wet bar into the general layout of the formal living room, and the siblings spent several minutes digging through the various cabinets for anything that still looked drinkable. There were a number of half-full bottles that looked a little scary, covered in dust. However, to their pleasant surprise, there were also full bottles, still sealed.

Megan jumped back around to the other side of the bar and leaned up against it, like a customer. "So, what do we have, barkeep?"

Jason arranged them neatly on the bar, facing the labels out toward her. "Well," he said, "we've got a couple of vodka choices, some gin, and a few styles of whisky, bourbon." He also confirmed they also had a few mixers that looked consumable.

"Perfect," Megan cheered. "We've got the basics. I'll get some ice."

A few minutes later, they were relaxing on the couch, each sipping a huge martini. Megan's was more on the fruity side, with vodka. Jason was a traditionalist and preferred pretty much straight gin.

"This is nice," Megan sighed, taking a healthy sip. "We've been moping around this house for days, and I've hardly had so much as a glass of cheap red wine in the last week."

"Agreed," Jason said, savoring his own beverage.

Megan, who'd been sitting with her cute little bare feet tucked under her, uncurled one leg and poked at her brother's thigh with a toe. "Hey," she said, "Remember that time we snuck drinks out of the bar when we were kids?"

Jason grinned. "Just the one time?"

Megan laughed. "Well, I mean that one time, one of the first times, when we really got lit up."

"Oh, oh!" It was his turn to laugh. "You mean when we dared each other to drink—God, what was it—Midori liqueur!"

"Yeah! And straight! Just that!"

"So gross!"

That got them giggling, spurred by their current alcoholic imbibing.

"Well," Megan said, "it got the job done!"

"I'll say," Jason quipped. "You started barking like a dog."

"And you stripped down to your tighty-whities and started sliding down the banister over and over!"

That set them off into new levels of laughter. Megan barely kept from sloshing her drink on herself. Jason reached out and helped steady her grip. She responded by nudging his thigh again, causing him to be the one to actually spill. Fortunately, his drink was clear, and all it did was create a wet spot on his pants, and, ironically, her toes.

"Clean me off!" Megan demanded with mirth, lifting her foot to his face. She wiggled her neatly painted toes.

"Not even if I had a whole bottle Midori," he shot back, pushing her foot away.

She leaned back, calmed her chortling, and took another sip. While he dabbed at his thigh with a cocktail napkin, Megan looked slowly around the room, trying to memorize every nook and cranny in the place. This would be one of their last evenings here. This realization threatened to dampen her perfectly balanced buzz, so she quite literally shook her head and stood.

"I'm ready for Round Two," she said, holding out her glass.

Jason glanced up at her incredulously. "Your glass is still half-full."

"Oh really?" She winked at him, then slammed the second half of her drink in one gulp. With another wink, she held out her now empty glass.

"Okay, okay, you lush." Jason stood and took her glass. He tried to get through the rest of his own drink as he crossed over to the bar again. As he made their next rounds, he looked at his sister and caught her looking around the room once more, suddenly quiet.

"You okay, sis?"

She blinked and looked his way. She gave him a bit of a forced smile, but her eyes were watery. She said, "Just getting nostalgic, I guess. But another drink will fix that."

He approached her with fresh beverages. Handing her hers, he said, "I miss her, too."

They clinked glasses and sipped, just watching each other for a few moments. Megan savored another couple of sips, wiped away a tear, and settled herself.

"No," she said. "We're done moping. We're gonna get stupid tonight, we deserve it." She wandered over to the big glass doors that led out to the patio. It was just getting to dusk, and the sky had a beautiful reddish-gold hue from the low sun and the smog. She continued, "Our spouses are miles away—my kid is miles away—and we have this house to ourselves for the first time in a long time."

"For the last time," Jason corrected somberly.

Megan turned and looked at him. "Exactly. And you know what? We're going to fucking take advantage of it!"

"And how would you like to do that," he asked. "Crank up some music? Go sliding down the bannister again?"

"Only if you do it in your tighty-whities again," Megan quipped. "That would be hilarious to see at your age now."

Jason grimaced. "That would be painful to do that at my age now!"

"Why would it—oh!" Megan said, then blushed. Jason merely shrugged with a cocky grin and took another ship. "Well," she regrouped, "I do know what would be fun and relaxing after the stress of the week. In fact, I can't believe we didn't think of it sooner."

"Do tell."

"The Jacuzzi!"

Jason broke out into a big grin. "Oh my god, you're right!"

Among the lavish appointments to the estate, their late father designed and built a huge hot tub. Though it wasn't of the actual brand, they still called it the Jacuzzi. It could easily seat ten to twelve people, thought it most often only had the two siblings, as kids, splashing around in it. In fact, it often ticked off their dad, because the two kids seemed to enjoy it more than the enormous pool adjacent to the tub.

"Oh shit," Jason said, "I didn't bring a swimsuit." He had come down here to bury his mother and settle her estate, not go swimming.

Megan frowned. "Damn, me neither." They sulked for a moment, each sipping quietly.

Megan was the first to speak up again, having reached a decision. "What are you wearing right now?" she asked him.

Puzzled, Jason simply looked down at himself, then back to her. "Have you drunk yourself blind?"

"No, silly. I mean underneath."

"Underneath?"

"Yeah. Boxers or briefs? Or do you still wear tighty-whities?"

Jason blushed. "If you must know, boxer-briefs. And they're black."

"Perfect."

He squinted at her. "How so?"

"It's simple," she said. "You can wear those."

Jason scoffed. "What is it with you with me and my underwear all of a sudden?"

"Wear them in the Jacuzzi."

"You're definitely drunk."

She giggled and stepped toward him. "I'll admit, I'm moderately drunk, and I plan to get more so. But I'm being serious right now. I mean think about it: how is wearing your boxer-briefs in the Jacuzzi really that different from wearing your swimsuit? I've seen the ones you wear, and they're quite...form fitting."

Jason blushed again. "It is different. One is for swimming. The other is underwear!"

Megan rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, don't be a hair-splitting prude. And besides, once you're in the water, it's all about the bubbles."

Her brother mellowed at the mention of bubbles. In the design of the hot tub, not only had their dad made the thing far too big for what they really needed, he'd also incorporated a countless number of strategically place jets and bubble makers that turned the tub into an outright caldron. As kids, Jason and Megan had spent countless hours splashing and giggling in the tub as the bubbles would balloon their swimsuits.

Jason scrutinized his sister. "And what about you?"

She knew what he was getting at. "Same thing."

"You'll go in your undies?"

"Sure, why not?" It was her turn to glance down at herself. "What I'm wearing underneath is no more revealing than one of my bikinis."

Jason thought about this. He hadn't seen his sister in a bikini in a long time, but he did recall she went more on the skimpier side. It made it an interesting challenge to look at her as just a brother, and he was well aware the reaction it gave to his friends whenever they saw her in one, back in the day.

"You really want to get in that hot tub," he said.

"Yep, and I'm tired talking about it. It's time to do it." She handed him her glass, once again empty. "You make me another one of these, I'll go out there and turn everything on."

He took her glass, shaking his head. This was so silly. But he had to admit, he was being a prude. These days, the difference between a bikini and underwear seemed to be little more than a mental hang-up. And she was right about the bubbles. Once they were in the water, the surface would be churning and gurgling, and they would be censored anyway. So, why the hell not!

While putting their third round of drinks together, Jason glanced up and saw his sister through the now open patio doors. She had turned on the jets and was already wiggling out of her shorts. There was some distance between them, but Jason still managed to spill some booze on the bar by the distraction of Megan bending over, pulling her shorts down. He could make out that she was wearing a black pair of panties. They weren't quite thong, but they were cut in a way that showed a considerable amount of butt cheek above each of her toned legs. When she stood, he almost added a spit-take to the earlier spill when, at first, he thought she was topless, but upon further scrutiny it became clear she was wearing a bra that was close in tone to her flesh.

"Just like a bathing suit," he tried to convince himself in a mumble.

Megan was easing into the bubbling water when Jason got to the hot tub. He set their drinks down at the edge and then put his fingers in the water, testing the temperature.

"A little on the hot side," he said. "Why was Mom keeping this heated? She probably hasn't used the thing in a couple of years—hey!" He flinched at having been splashed.

Megan said, "Stop being a penny-pinching prude and get in here. If you get hot after a while you can always go splash in the pool."

As Jason stood back up and started taking off his shirt, he glanced down to see his sister make her way to the edge of the tub for her drink. Megan's shapely breasts were half out of the water, which bubbled and glistened around her. Her bra appeared to be more sensible and supportive than sexy, but it also obviously wasn't designed to be used as a bikini top, because her nipples and areolas were very prominently showing through the wet material, just under the waterline.

Jason swallowed and forced himself to look away. Megan had been so nonchalant about crossing over to get her drink, she was probably not yet aware that she was far more exposed than she thought. Hopefully she would sit back deeper into the bubbling water with her drink and that would be that.

After just a bit more hesitation, Jason finally shucked his pants, then turned back toward the tub. Taking another sip of her drink, Megan got a good look at him. There was still a glow from the twilight of the day, and there was also the glow from the Jacuzzi lights, so Jason was fairly well lit. Megan had to admit that her brother had a pretty kickin' bod. He had broad shoulders and a long torso. It was the early part of the summer, but he already had a pretty nice tan. His skin was smooth and not hairy, something Megan always noted with a slight pang: her husband was also in pretty good shape, but he had a rather hairy chest, not something she particularly liked.