The Paper

"Now, mom went in early, which means she'll be home around six. That's four hours. You think you know what to do?"

I nodded, my mind already visualizing the scenario that was hopefully about to unfold.

"And just remember..." Shelly said, slipping her arms around my waist and pulling me to her.

"I know. Take It Slow."

"Great. Now, I'm going over to Bree's house for the night, so you're on your own."

The next two hours drug by. I spent most of the time pacing back and forth until I was afraid I might wear a path into the carpet. At precisely five-thirty I put the casserole dish into the oven then set about getting the table ready. I had wanted to do flowers and candles but Shelly had almost flipped.

"Take it slow." she had said, for the umpteenth time.

As the clock slowly ticked closer to six, I found myself standing at the window, watching. I went through the plan step by step, trying to imagine how things might go. The fact was I had no idea what was about to happen, and I was just hoping to survive. Six o'clock came and went and still no mom. By seven I had probably walked a mile pacing back and forth from the door to the window, my imagination drumming up all sorts of deaths I might face. The sound of a car door slamming brought me rushing back to reality. Mom was walking up the sidewalk, her steps firm, confident. I took a deep breath, trying to prepare.

"Hi mom." I said, as she stepped through the door.

"You made dinner?" she said, sniffing at the air.

She walked over and gave me a hug. I could feel her boobs pressing into my chest, and my body's reaction made me pull away suddenly.

"I figured it was the least I could do." I said, trying not to stare. Still, there was something in the way she looked at me, something different.

"Great, cause I didn't have time for lunch. Is it ready now?"

"Let me pull it out of the oven." I replied, quickly turning and rushing toward the kitchen.

As mom walked in, I quickly grabbed her chair, pulling it out for her. She gave me a quick smile then sat down, letting me slide her chair in. I moved slowly to my seat, trying to remember everything Shelly and I had talked about. It had all seemed so simple, so perfect when we talked it through but now, nothing. I felt the panic beginning to build as I gripped my chair. It wasn't going to work. There was just no way I was going to live through this.

"So, where is your sister?" Mom said, as she spooned some of the casserole onto her plate.

"She's spending the night at Bree's house. She said something about studying for some test, Biology I think. You want me to go get her?"

"No, that's alright." She said, taking a bite. "Oh, my God! This is fabulous. What is it?"

"It's called Southern Oyster Casserole. I got the recipe off the internet." I said, smiling hopefully.

"Oh, it's oysters. Still, it tastes fantastic." Mom smiled as she ate and sipped at her glass of water.

Before I knew it, dinner was done, and I hadn't even managed one of my planned comments. As mom pushed her plate away, wiping carefully at her lips with her napkin, I still couldn't come up with single of the planned comments. Every time I thought I had one, my eyes would lock on mom's tits, and I would flash back to standing outside her bedroom door listening.

"I tell you what." Mom said, putting her napkin down. "I'll do the dishes then we can talk."

"That's okay, mom." I said, jumping up and gathering the dishes quickly. "I know you like to take a shower after a rough day at work. I'll do dishes."

"You sure?" she said, looking at the pile of dishes in the sink.

"I'm sure. I've got lots of energy to burn off."

"Okay then. But when you're done, meet me in my room."

I took my time washing the dishes, trying to sort through all the plans I had made with Shelly. Nothing had gone as planned, and now I was just postponing my demise. I considered waiting longer hoping she might fall asleep, but knew that would never happen. With nothing left to use an excuse, I slowly walked to mom's bedroom.

I stood outside her door for several seconds, cherishing the last moments of my life. Taking a deep breath I knocked on the door. I mentally went through all the plans again, trying to make something work. Everything had been so clear when Shelly and I had talked it out. Play on mom's emotions. Get her to admit to being turned on. Yeah, mom turned on, her nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her shirt.

"Come in." Mom called.

I opened the door slowly and stepped inside. Mom was sitting on her bed, holding a glass of wine. A bottle and another glass sat on the end table to her side along with a red candle, wisps of smoke curling up off the flickering flame. She was dressed in a red lace nightie, her nipples clearly visible. My cock hardened immediately.

"David! David!" Mom's voice echoed through his head.

Mom was sitting on the end of her bed in her robe, a pile of papers in her lap.

"I, uhm. Oh, yeah, the dishes are done."

"Are you nervous?" she said, staring at me as her fingers flipping through the pages.

"I, uhm, yeah." I said, every single planned response fleeing before her stare.

"Alright, I know I promised to keep this purely about the grammar and such, but really? You put this in front of me without so much as a warning?"

"Mom, I tried, I really did." I said, trying to remember the comments Shelly had coached me on.

"But David, I mean for Christ's sake. This is just porn, and it's ... You and Shelly? I mean ..."

"No mom. It's not about me and Shelly." I said, relieved that we hadn't. Mom would know if I was lying.

"That's a relief, I think." She said, patting the bed beside her.

As I walked over and sat down, I noticed her robe hung open just enough for me to see the pale skin of her breast. Not the whole breast, but more than she showed in her bikini.

"Oh shit. Not now!" I thought, as my eyes lingered on her tit, and my body reacted to the sight.

I shifted my position, hoping to conceal my erection.

"Alright David, I said I would just check for grammar and such, and I did that. I marked the things I think need changed and explained why. There aren't that many, which surprised me. Mostly they were spelling, but there were some that were a little awkward. Here, you look through them and see if you have any questions."

She shifted her position as she handed me the pages. The movement causing her robe to open just a bit more. I could see the dark ring of flesh that surrounded her nipple!

"Okay." I said, taking the pages. "I'll go to my room and check it out." I said, looking for an escape.

"No, I think you should read it here. In fact, I think maybe you should read it out loud. Sometimes that helps to see when it gets awkward."

"But mom!" I said, trying not to look at her. "It's, I mean!"

Mom smiled, as she turned to face me, her robe opening even more.

"God! I can see her nipple!" I thought, holding the pages in my lap to try and cover my growing erection.

I managed to finally look away, but not before she noticed. She glanced down at herself, and adjusted her robe. She didn't close it completely, but did manage to cover her nipple.

"Oh! So, it's alright for me to read it as long as you're not here." She said, her face turning stern.

"Mom! That's not fair." I said, forgetting myself and jumping up. "I didn't want you to read it. I tried to keep it from you but you insisted. It's not like I wanted you to read it. I didn't even want to write it. I didn't have a choice. Did you even look at the guidelines I was given."

By then I was more angry than scared. I just stood there returning her glare. Slowly, her features softened, and she nodded her head slightly. I saw her gaze shift, and realized a moment too late what I had done. In a matter of a split second her expression went from anger to sympathy to surprise. I scrambled for the papers and held them in front of my crotch but it was too late. I took a deep breath, preparing for my death.

"David, sit down." she said, a surprising tenderness in her voice.

I complied, arranging the pages across my lap as I tried to beg my cock to soften.

"Alright, confession time." she said, shifting around again. This time she carefully arranged her robe to keep herself covered.

There was an awkward silence as I tried to work through exactly what I was going to say. I looked over at her, my eyes begging for mercy. Her lips formed a slight smile as her hand reached out to cover mine.

"Okay, I'll start." she said, her fingers lightly squeezing my hand.

"I know I told you I was going to read this just to correct spelling and grammar, but there's so much wrong with it. I mean, erotic fiction was not a fair description of this. This was porn, plain and simple. Somehow I thought this was supposed to be more analytical. I thought you were supposed to be examining the story and how the problems that arise are overcome."

"The analysis was the..." I started, but she raised a finger to my lips.

"Let me finish. When you write the analysis, you need to be more analytical. In fact, I think you need to be more analytical in the whole thing."

"God! She hadn't read everything!" I thought. "The whole analysis was in the last three pages, I had made it sort of a synopsis."

"There are a lot of descriptive elements in there that serve well if this is a story, but they don't really get to the point of analyzing the problems that something so taboo carries with it. There's too much emotion, both shared and evoked. Is it believable, yes. But believable isn't the point now is it?"

"I don't get it, mom. I mean, it's the details, the emotions that are the whole point." I said, feeling relieved that she hadn't shot me, and defensive about my paper.

"I see, so we can look at any of the scenes in there, and you can tell me how it relates to the points you are trying to make?"

"Uhm, yeah. I mean some are easier than others but, uhm sure. Anything in there relates to a point I make in the analysis, sure."

"Okay. So how about we take a couple sections and you can tell me how it needs to be there." she said, sliding up onto the bed and leaning against her pillow.

"You read it and I'll just sit back and listen. Here's your chance to convince me this isn't just some porn story. You can either stand up and read it, or if you would feel more comfortable, you can sit facing away from me."

I flipped through the pages trying to find something that I could read without being too embarrassed. It still needed to be one that mom had questioned, so I settled on the section about laundry.

"Uhm, well I guess this one." I said, turning so I was facing the away from her. I immediately realized that facing away from her meant facing the mirror, and her reflection.

I quickly looked down at the paper and began reading.

"Mike dumped the clothes onto the floor, grumbling as he began sorting them. He didn't understand why he always got the chore of doing laundry when Jennifer was the one with all the dirty clothes. First he sorted by color, darks, lights and whites, then he remembered mom explaining how certain items had to be washed separate. "Delicates", she called them. Pulling out the bras and panties, Mike set them to one side then tossed the whites into the washer, added detergent and bleach, and closed the top.

"Not so bad." he thought, checking the timer on the washer. It read forty-seven minutes, enough time for him to get a game or two in on the PS3. Pushing the rest of the clothes into tighter piles, he stared down at the delicates, mostly panties. The label from one of the bras was sticking up. It was Jennifer's he guessed, the pink lace more his sister's style. Looking at the size of the sheer lace cups confirmed it."

"God, I think she's getting bigger." he thought as he checked the size to make sure. He knew she wore a 36C, thanks to his many previous turns at laundry while mom wore a 34B. The tag read 36D. He held the bra against his chest, trying to gauge just how big her tits had gotten. He brought up images of women he had seen on line, and imagined their naked tits beneath his sister's face."

"Okay, that's enough." Mom said. "Now, just what does that passage have to do with incest?"

"I don't know." I replied. "I guess, well, it set things in motion. A young guy handling his sisters bras and panties, I mean, it got his imagination going. It started him down the path."

"Right! So you're telling me that forcing a teenage boy to wash his sister's underwear leads to incest?"

"Well, uhm, I guess. I mean, it's what got him thinking about her."

"And I was hoping you might pass this class." his mom said, shaking her head. "Try another one."

I turned to the next page, the shower scene. Shelly and I had worked on this one a lot. She had even helped me with the insight into what the mom, I mean sister was thinking. I could nail this one.

"He stood by the door, afraid to move. He could just make out her figure through the shower door. He couldn't make out any details, but the soft silhouette still showed the swell of her breasts, and the roundness of her ass. He watched, letting his imagination fill in the details. His hand moved down, brushing against his hardened uhm..."

I paused, trying to muster the courage. It had sounded so much better when I was reading it to myself. "Brushing against his hardened cock." I glanced quickly in the mirror. Mom was laying there with her eyes closed. It gave me a bit of courage knowing she wasn't about to choke me to death.

"Brushed against his hardened cock. She turned sideways, facing the shower door, her breasts pressed against the glass, the contact making them clearly visible. He let out a little gasp as he stared at the large dark nipples."

"She jerked back, the sound carrying to her ears. Someone was there. She knew who it was, and for the briefest moment she was angry. She waited, listening for the sound of the door closing. When she didn't hear it, she smiled to herself."

"He wants to watch, I'll give him a show." she thought, pressing her body back against the cold glass. She slid against it, enjoying the cold pressure against her nipples. The fact that he was watching made it even better. Her hands slid down, brushing across her hair, slowly caressing between her legs."

"Okay, and this one?" mom said, interrupting me.

I noticed a change in her voice, and glanced up at the mirror. Were her legs parted a bit? I couldn't be sure, but I thought I could see up past her knees.

"Well, I" I began, tearing my eyes away from the mirror. "It gives her control. She decides just how much he sees. And she can do it and still pretend not to know. At the same time he can go on believing she doesn't know, and as long as she doesn't know, it isn't really happening."

"Strange logic, but I guess you can make a case for it." Mom said.

"Another one?" I said, looking over my shoulder at her. She was laying back further, her hands folded across her stomach. I watched her for a moment, admiring the swell of her breasts, even lying down, they pressed against her robe.

"Uhm, yeah." she said, not opening her eyes.

"The house was quiet, strange for the middle of the afternoon. The quiet made him quiet, and he slowly padded up the stairs, pausing when he heard the first moan. It was not a moan of pain, that much he knew. He waited silently, listening for another, just to be sure. The next moan was a bit loader, with a sense of urgency to it. He moved forward, careful to not make a sound. His sister's door was open, just a crack, but open. He moved up to it cautiously, the sounds already affecting him. By the time he peeked in, his cock was already pulsing, straining to escape his shorts.

The view in the room made him gasp. He jerked back, prepared to dash to his room, but nothing happened. Easing forward he looked back in, taking in the scene slowly. Jennifer was on her bed, knees up, legs parted. Her fingers were between her legs, caressing her mound. From where he stood, he could see the moisture gathering in the soft folds of her womanhood, as each caress of her fingers made her legs tremble.

He pulled out his cock, slowly stroking it in time to her movements. She gently eased a finger inside, rubbing gently as her hips arched upward. Her eyes were closed, giving him courage. He eased the door open a bit, giving himself a better view. Her huge tits hung to each side, their mere size forcing them to sag. The hard nipples poked up proudly, begging for attention. Mike struggled to resist the temptation to enter the room as Jennifer added another finger to the one already caressing her inside.

Her hips began bucking upward, slowly at first, but quickly become almost frantic. His own movements followed suit."

"Enough!" Mom said, her voice strained.

I glanced into the mirror. Her robe was parted well past her knees. She had tucked the upper portion between her legs, which pulled the fabric tight against her tits. She was staring at me, her mouth slightly open. Even from where I sat, I could see her nipples poking hard against the fabric of her robe.

"I mean, that's enough. I think you got the idea. Now go to your room and fix it."

"Are you sure, mom?" I said, trying to take in what was happening.

"Yes! I'm sure. Just fix the things I marked, and hope your professor is as understanding as I am."

"Do you want me to bring it back when I'm done so you can check it?" I said, glimpsing a pile of paper on her nightstand.

"She made a second copy!" I thought as she said something.

"What was that, mom?" I said, standing up, letting the pages drop down to cover my erection.

"I said I have a headache. I think I'm going to bed. As for your paper, just fix what I marked."

"Alright." I said, walking to the head of the bed careful to keep the pages over my erection.

I leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Thanks, mom."

I closed her door slowly as I left the room, making sure it failed to latch.

"Take it slow." my sister's words echoed in my mind as I stood quietly outside her door listening. Something that would be a lot easier to do if my cock wasn't about ready to burst.

I waited, listening, for what seemed like hours but was only a few seconds. Finally I heard it, a drawer open and close followed by the shuffling of papers. I had wanted to take her vibrator thinking it would give her only one option to satisfy her need, but Shelly had looked at me like I was crazy. Again her words echoed through my head.

"Take it slow."

I waited until I heard the soft buzzing, then I read through the first page of my paper, hoping that would give her enough time. Once I was finished, I knocked lightly on mom's door and waited for her to answer.

"Yes?" she finally answered, the tension clear in her voice.

"There's just this one part, mom. You didn't mark it, but I'm having second thoughts about it. Could you give me any suggestions?"

"Uhm, yes." she said, the buzzing going quiet. "Just read it from there."

"Okay, here goes. Uhm... Her whole body shivered as he touched her, the contact was electric. She wanted to stop him, to stop the madness. The feeling wasn't real for him, just a youthful fascination. For her it would be more, so much more. She stared into his eyes, afraid, afraid if she looked away, if she did anything to interrupt, he might flee. His fingers caressed her skin softly as he pushed her robe back, letting it fall from her shoulders. He looked into her eyes, scared, unsure what he should do. Her skin tingled as he traced a path along the edge of her bra, slowly following the curve of her breasts."

I took a couple breaths, listening, waiting for that sound. Finally I heard it, faint, but unmistakable.