The Neglected Son Ch. 01


The night was cool on my overheated skin. I mopped my brow and thought of the big house, Dad probably drinking brandy in his study, with no idea that his son had just shot a load into his daughter's willing mouth. Aunt Paula would be up in her dressing room, inspecting herself worriedly for any sign of wrinkles or sags. Renee, tall, slim, graceful Renee, might be practicing her ballet steps, auburn hair pinned up, long legs scissoring in dainty, precise motions.

I wished I could be there when they found out. I wished I could drop it on them like a bomb, and watch the shrapnel rip through their oh-so-perfect family. Take that, Dad. See what happens when you ignore and push away one of your own.

Mindy walked beside me, oblivious to the malicious thoughts that boiled my soul. She clung to my arm, her taut, rounded body pressed against me.

"Let's go to your place," she said.

A spear of icy terror pierced me. My place? That was the last thing I wanted now. One look and she was bound to guess. My name was on papers and stacks of incoming mail, I had a framed photo of myself and my mother. And while I did want Mindy to know, I wasn't ready yet. Not yet. Not now.

"Can't," I said. "It's a mess, and my roommate's there."

I didn't have a roommate at the moment, the last one having moved out after he found out about me and his girlfriend, but Mindy would have no way of spotting the lie.

"Damn, and no 'gentlemen callers' are allowed in the sorority house after eight," Mindy said. She sighed and gave me a look smoldering with challenge. "We'll have to do it in the park, then."

Some vestige of sanity tried to rear up and stop me. After all, according to at least one President, we hadn't technically had actual sex. There was still time to back out of this with a degree of dignity.

I shoved that impulse aside and followed Mindy through the park. Leaves whispered secretively as we went by. Her white dress was the brightest thing in the night. Everything else was deep green and black, velvet shadows that surrounded us.

We came to a secluded place where a level patch of grass was screened from the path by a hedge, and here Mindy flung herself into my arms. She kissed me furiously, hooking her leg around my hip, and practically climbed me like a tree.

She kicked off her shoes, shimmied out of her dress, and skinned off her pantyhose. I barely had time to gawk appreciatively at her nakedness before she was on me again, yanking at the buttons of my shirt. She seized my hand and shoved it between her legs. She was neatly groomed there, shaved to a narrow strip of trimmed dark hair, and she was sopping wet with arousal. I probed her with my fingers, letting the middle one sink deep into her clasping warmth while my thumb rolled her clit.

"Oh!" she cried, and bit me on the shoulder, hard enough to leave a ring of white marks. "Oh, God, yes!"

Her thighs clamped shut, trapping my hand, as she tore feverishly at my pants. They fell to my feet, and the next thing I knew she was dragging me down on top of her.

I was really going to do it. I was really going to fuck Mindy. My dick wasn't bothered in the slightest by the taboo, and the rest of me only spared it a moment's qualm. So I was going to fuck her, my half-sister and cousin. It wasn't like I'd raped her. She was a slut, throwing herself at me, and any red-blooded male in my place would do exactly the same thing.

She had my dick in her hand and was guiding it home. I felt the slippery touch of her bare flesh and realized with a sort of dark thrill that I wasn't wearing a condom. I should have been worried about catching something – the way she acted told me that this was hardly the first time she'd done this sort of thing – but what really filled my mind was the possibility that I might knock her up. Oh, she was probably on the pill if she carried on like this, but … anything was possible, wasn't it?

Wouldn't that teach them a lesson? Bad enough that she'd fucked her own brother, but if she got pregnant … Dad would never live down that shame!

So, rather than hesitate, I plunged into her. All the way. One fast, sure thrust that embedded my dick to the root. She wailed with passion and bit my shoulder again. I rocked back, withdrawing almost all the way, and slammed it in again. And again. She hammered her fists on my back and urged me to go harder, her heels beating against my ass.

I obliged. I pounded her into the grass, giving it to her the way she wanted it, hard and fast, almost brutal. Our bodies slapped together, and the wet sound of my dick driving in and out of her slippery heat mingled with my own grunts and Mindy's blissful cries.

She was a noisy one, my slutty little sister, and when she came I felt it convulse her whole body in a violent clutching spasm. Even then, she didn't release me but held on, demanding that I not stop, demanding that I fuck her like I'd never fucked before.

The harder I went, the more she liked it. I lost track of how many times she came, but she shredded my back with her nails, and one of her impassioned bites to my shoulder actually drew blood. I felt the gathering tension of my orgasm building in my balls, and went even faster until our flesh smacked in a rapid tattoo. Her tits bounced wildly, her head thrashed in the grass.

Like before, I came in a torrent that shocked me. I felt like I'd never be done, spurting into Mindy, flooding her pussy. The idea of it was enough to trigger an even greater explosion from my loins. I was coming in her, in my sister, maybe planting a baby in her that would be hell to explain to our father. And I reveled in it.

We collapsed apart, side by side on the ground, the breeze drying the sweat and other fluids on our skin. Mindy languidly rolled onto one elbow and kissed me.

I almost told her right then. Almost said it to her face. "By the way, Mindy, don't you recognize me? It's Winchester, Winnie-the-pooh. What do you think of that?" I imagined her horrified shriek, her self-disgust, her revulsion.

But I kept it to myself for now. When it happened, I wanted it to really hurt her. I stroked her hair, and told her she was absolutely wonderful. I told her I had to see her again.

After we got dressed, we left the park. I walked her back to the club where her friends would be waiting, and gave her my number. I kissed her again, said good-bye, and headed for home.

She called me the next day. By then, I had cleaned my apartment and hidden any evidence of my real identity. As far as she knew, I was Chet. Chet Christopher, I told her, kind of a play on words with Pooh's buddy Christopher Robin.

I hadn't been sure if Mindy would want to see me again. The experience had had the markings of a one-night stand, a quick fling with a veritable stranger. But she said that something about me drew her to me. She said she felt as if she'd known me all of her life.

I could have laughed. I could have puked.

Known me all her life.

Well, she had, hadn't she?

We started seeing each other, and nine times out of ten our dates would end up back at my place for some energetic sex. I discovered that Mindy really liked it when she knelt on the floor with her upper body braced on my couch, and I fucked her from behind.

I persuaded her to let me take some Polaroid snapshots. They'd be great when Dad needed some proof. I even borrowed a video camera and tripod, and shot an amateur film of Mindy doing a striptease for me, followed by a marathon session that included a few of the more unusual positions.

Her friends thought I was great. So attentive, so charming. A couple of them tried to test my dedication to Mindy by making passes, but I always resisted.

A few weeks later, after hearing how I didn't have any plans for the holidays, Mindy invited me to come home with her and spend Christmas with her family.

It was, I knew, the moment I'd been waiting for.

But that's another story.


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