Brady Bunch The Attic

(fictional story about fictional characters)

(I know this isn't my usual subject matter, but I was watching reruns and The Brady Bunch, S4, E23, "A Room at the Top", came on. This is a story that was begging to be written.)

Just a week before, the whole family had gathered to celebrate Marcia's 18th birthday; and now they were all gathered again but for a far less fun reason. Mike, the patriarch of the bunch, had decided that this would be the perfect weekend to clean out the attic. After this weekend, Summer would start in earnest and everyone would be busy with their own agendas. Greg, Marcia, Jan and Peter all had various summer jobs; Bobby had Little League and play-dates with friends, and Cindy...well, Mike wasn't exactly sure what little girls did all summer. They had started the task very early on Saturday morning because the day was predicted to be a southern California scorcher, and there was very little (actually none) circulation in the attic.

It was hard, tedious work, with a lot of complaining by everyone (yes, even the Bradys got irritable); but usually they ended up laughing at some long-hidden gem in the attic. Load after load of stuff was trudged down the flights of stairs to the Brady garage, where it was sorted into two piles: one (the largest one) for the trash hauler, and the other for "treasures" they were contemplating keeping. Most of the second pile would later be added to the first pile. They were determined to finish the project on Saturday so they would have Sunday to relax.

When they were nearly done, Greg corralled his father and asked: "now that all the old junk is out of the attic, do you have any plans for the space."

"No, I guess we'll just use it to accumulate NEW junk," his father laughed.

"I was thinking that it would make a good place for a bedroom," Greg suggested, "You know after this summer, I'll only be home on weekends and it would be really nice to have some privacy from Peter and Bobby. They can be super annoying, and you know a guy my age needs some privacy. I can put some poster up and it'll be fine."

Mike DID know what Greg meant...he had kept magazines under his mattress when he was Greg's age himself. "That idea is not half bad," he slapped Greg on the back, "it will cut down on the little squabbles you have. I'll tell your mother."

Out in the garage at precisely the same time Marcia was talking to her mother: "hey mom, I was thinking that the attic would make a groovy bedroom. I could put up some curtains and posters and make it my own sanctuary. A girl my age really needs some privacy. I love Jan and Cindy, but sometimes I just need to be alone...you understand."

"Of course," Carol agreed, "I think that sounds like a fine idea...I'll let your father know."

Upstairs in the boys' room, Greg had broken the news to Peter and Bobby, who were overjoyed with the prospect of getting rid of their bunk-beds. When the dust from the thorough sweeping had finally settled, they even volunteered to help him lug his stuff up to the attic. They just dropped the boxes in the middle of the attic and abandoned them. When Marcia carried her first box up to her new bedroom, she was perplexed when she found more boxes. Just then Greg appeared on the stairs carrying a small end table made from a milk crate. "Why are you cluttering up my new bedroom," she asked.

"You mean MY new bedroom," Greg told her, "dad said I could have the attic."

"Well mom promised it to me," his sister defiantly answered, and stood at the top of the stairs with her arms akimbo.

"Well I'm the oldest and I asked first," Greg informed her, crowding by and setting his crate down.

"No I asked first, and you don't get everything just because you're the oldest," she told him.

Just as it was starting to turn into a shouting match, Mike and Carol appeared on the stairs and Mike spoke up: "OK you two; your mother and I made a mistake and didn't consult each other before promising the attic to either of you. I never occured to us that either of you would want this hot, stuffy old space, until you asked."

"OK, so who gets the attic," Greg inquired, the sweat dripping off his brow.

"We're going to let you two reach that decision...and no arguing," Carol told them, "whatever you decide is fine with us...we trust you to come to a reasonable and fair decision."

When the parents had left the attic, Greg sat on his crate and Marcia sat on the top step. The truth was they really did like each other and didn't want to hurt each others feelings, and Greg started to talk. "After this summer, I'll only be home on weekends because Freshman year I have to live in a dorm on campus...it's the rules. So after the summer the attic will be all yours. I can stand Bobby and Peter on the weekends, I guess. Next summer and next school year, a couple buddies and I have already started to make plans to get an apartment off campus. So I'm only asking for the attic this summer."

"Thanks Greg," Marcia said, acknowledging his sincere effort to reach a solution, "but you just have no idea how annoying Cindy and Jan can be sometimes. This is my senior year and I really need some privacy sometimes."

"No, I get it," he replied. Glancing around, he suggested: "you know, there really is a lot of room up here. We could probably split it down the middle and make two rooms."

"Greg, that's genius," Marcia agreed, "and we'll really only be sharing it for the summer."

"OK, now for logistics," Greg began, "if we split it lengthwise, one of us will get both the window and stairs; and if we split it sideways, one will get the window and the other will get the stairs. How about we split it sideways and I'll take the back half with the window. You'll get the stairs because it's a well known fact that females visit the bathroom much more often than males."

She made a face at him and smiled: "thanks...that sounds like a fair decision; but I'm still making curtains for the window."

"Now...how will we separate the spaces...we can't build a wall," Greg admitted.

"The other night mom was watching some old movie about a couple who had to share a bedroom, and they hung a sheet on some rope," Marcia informed him.

"Wait, I have a better idea," Greg proclaimed, "we can string the rope, then hang shower curtains so we can easily push them aside when we want to go through...and for some ventilation, since I have the only window. I'll bet mom has some old shower-curtain hooks and the curtains are only a couple bucks apiece. What do you think?"

"Sounds groovy," Marcia agreed, "as long as you announce yourself before going through my room...you know, in case I'm changing clothes or something."

"Deal," he agreed and stuck out his hand for her to shake.

"You know, if we get moving, we can stay up here tonight," Marcia suggested. "I'm going down to change my clothes...it really is H-O-T up here." They had all worn old sweat-pants and sweatshirts for the dirty attic-cleaning job, and were now over-dressed for the stifling space.

The next time Greg climbed the attic stairs, his arms were full and Marcia was already up there hanging some posters and fabric on her walls. She had changed into a pair of incredibly short cut-off jeans and when she stretched toward the roof, the bottoms of her perfectly round ass cheeks peeked out. Her scarf was gone and her long, blond hair fell down her back like a waterfall. Greg stopped dead in his tracks and thought: "holy crap...my sister is a fox...when did that happen?"

He felt guilty for staring and when she caught him, Marcia asked: "what...don't you like the fabric?"

"Uh...no...I mean yeah, as long as it's on your side," he responded, "hey, look what I found. Mom had the extra curtain hooks and extra shower curtains. Dad got me some rope from the garage and there is a big old carpet rolled up down there. I bet it's big enough to cover half of each space if we put it down in the middle. It'll be nice not having to walk on the boards."

"That's great...you thought of everything," she grinned.

"I did," he laughed and produced a crowbar that he employed to pry the window open. "Now if we only had curtains," he joked, and Marcia punched him in the shoulder. While Marcia was busy hanging her fabric, Greg hung the rope and shower curtains. They were the opaque vinyl type that let the light pass through, but you were only able to discern vague shapes through the plastic. They went down together and hauled the large rug all the way to the attic without stopping. Dropping the heavy load they sat down and both wiped their brows. Marcia had put on a tight tube-top and Greg couldn't help but notice that her nipples were threatening to poke through the damp material.

"What am I doing staring at my sister," he scolded himself as he felt the stirrings of an erection. "Hey, we're not related by blood," he rationalized; trying not to stare. They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening arranging their belongings in their new "rooms." Since there were no outlets in the attic, extension cords were strung from the ceiling light fixture. The biggest job was the beds. Greg decided to just lug his mattress up the stairs, but Marcia wanted her whole bed: frame and all. Luckily they had siblings that were more than eager to help. Peter and Bobby were happy to say "vamoose" to Greg, but Cindy and Jan would miss their big sister.

Both were exhausted at the end of the day and when Marcia climbed up the stairs for bed, Greg saw she was wearing one of her ubiquitous "granny nightgowns." He teased her about them constantly because they came down to her ankles and looked like something Alice would wear. The heat was still oppressive and Greg suggested: "since we're both already changed, how about we shove the shower curtains apart for the night to get some circulation?"

"Sounds good to me," Marcia agreed, "tomorrow I'll have to hunt up a fan."

After finally getting to sleep, they both slept like logs. When the morning light shining through the window woke Greg up, he rolled off his mattress and shuffled through the opening toward the stairs. Due to the stifling heat, Marcia had tossed and turned and her nightgown was now bunched up around her waist, revealing her shapely ass, her long slender legs and her plain white panties. "Wow," Greg thought as he stroked his morning wood, "I wish I had paid more attention when she was practicing her cheers." He was thankful he managed to make it to the bathroom and back before she woke up because he knew she would have been embarrassed.

The next day was spent rearranging their "rooms;" helping to further sort the piles in the garage; and having a family barbeque. When Greg closed the shower curtains to get changed for bed, Marcia couldn't help notice that when his light was on behind him, his shadow became quite clear...and what a shadow it was. As he was putting on his gym shorts, it looked like he had three legs. "Holy moly, that can't be his penis," she nearly exclaimed out loud, "no way." Marcia had stuck her hand down the front of two boys' pants, and nothing had ever been even half that large. "It must be just the shadow playing tricks," she explained to herself, "but, wow, if it was real!" She made a pact with herself to find out.

Every night before bed, Marcia would moisturize with baby oil; spreading the slick substance all the way up and down her legs. Also every night, Greg would surreptitiously peek between the shower curtains and watch her. "Man, she has great legs," he whispered to himself every night. They settled into a routine of always courteously announcing whenever they were going to be going between the shower curtains, or coming up the stairs. They were in the middle of a heat wave, so every night they would leave the curtains shoved apart for air circulation. Marcia had found a fan, but it did little more than move the hot air around.

Supposedly because of the heat, she had gradually worn more skimpy night-clothes. First she had switched to an oversize t-shirt that only came down to her knees; then one night she wore a very short, lacy negligee that she had borrowed from her mother's dresser. Greg had only gotten a glimpse before the lights went out but he would have sworn that he could see the dark outline of her areola. Both Marcia and Greg were scheduled for night shifts the next day, so by the time they woke; everyone else was out of the house. Alice had gone to visit her sister for a couple days; Mike was at work; Carol was gone for the day to her Garden Club meeting and Bridge Club luncheon; Jan and Peter were off to their summer jobs and both Bobby and Cindy were at sleep-overs.

Greg woke first and peeked through the gap in the curtains to see if his sister was awake. He didn't see any movement so didn't bother announcing himself before heading for the stairs. He couldn't believe what she was wearing. The nightie was bunched around her waist and the light-blue lacy panties did little to hide her perfect ass. As he was passing her bed, he heard her voice: "what happened to announcing yourself. Were you trying to get a glimpse of me naked?"

Jerking his head around, he saw that she was sitting in the middle of the bed with a stern expression on her face. "Jeez no...I'm really sorry Marcia. I honestly thought you were asleep and didn't want to wake you...I swear." He saw her staring at his groin and realized his "morning wood" was plainly visible. He immediately dropped his hands to cover it.

Almost giggling at the pained expression on his face, she continued: "gee Greg, if you wanted to get a look at me naked, all you had to do was ask." Now smiling, she reached up to her shoulders and slid the straps of the nightie off and let them slide down her arms until her breasts popped out. Greg thought his eyes were going to leap from their sockets as he stared at his sister's incredible tits. They weren't overly large; probably 34 B (almost a C); but they were perfectly round and stood straight out from her body. Her dark pink areola were the size of half-dollars and capped by gumdrop sized nipples. He felt like they were begging him to touch them.

Time seemed to stand still until Greg realized he should do something. He confessed: "I...I know it's not polite to stare...but...wow, Marcia."

Standing up in front of him, she shrugged the nightie off and let it fall to the floor. "I'm glad you like," she teased, "if you want to see the rest, you have to show me yours."

He was only wearing his gym shorts and without even hesitating, shoved them down to the floor and stepped out of them. "Oh my God," Marcia wheezed. "Greg...it's so big." She knew the gap from her elbow to her wrist was nine inches and his penis was at least three inches longer, and as fat as a soda can. She actually felt lightheaded as she stared at his erection. Now she admitted: "as you said, it's not polite to stare, but...can I touch it." Almost in a trance, he just nodded in the affirmative and watched as she reached out with both hands and grasped his hard pole. Of course, her dainty fingers didn't even come close to encircling his huge rod. "Greg, it's amazing...so warm."

The more she fondled his shaft, the harder it got and Greg was afraid he was going to explode. "It's the first one I've ever seen," she admitted while reaching down and cupping his scrotum. "Is this an average size," she asked innocently.

"From what I've seen in the locker room; not that I've intentionally looked mind you; I'd say mine is quite a bit larger than average," he proudly, and modestly, proclaimed. "Can I touch," he asked while nodding at her breasts.

"Please," she blushed and thrust her chest out.

Reaching out, Greg tenderly grasped both her breasts in his hands. "Ohhh, they're amazing," he whispered as he began to fondle and knead her soft tits. He could tell she liked it too, by the way her grip tightened on his prick. Marcia leaned forward and tentatively stuck out her tongue to lick the drop of pre-cum from Greg's bulbous crown.

"Not a horrible taste," she thought as she opened her mouth wide and attempted to steer his shaft into it. His head bumped against her teeth and she immediately knew there was no way his gigantic prick would fit in her mouth. "Sorry Greg," she apologized, "I wanted to try to give you a blow-job...it would have been my first." Instead Marcia licked his pole from the ball-sack to the head, like licking an ice cream cone on a hot California day.

"That's OK," he chirped happily, "a lot of "firsts" today," secretly hoping there would be more. He was afraid he had said something wrong when she pulled back and released his erection. Slowly Marcia reached down, slid her lacy panties down her long legs and kicked them aside. Laying back on the bed and spreading her legs, she seductively asked: "see anything else you like?"

Greg's lower jaw just dropped as he stared at his sister's pussy. It was technically the first one he had seen in person. There had been magazines, of course, and he had sex with two different girls; but they had both been at night, in the dark. Marcia's mound was glistening and beckoned him to come closer. He paused for a moment to take a mental picture of his sister's wondrous nude body; her legs spread wide inviting him in. Dropping onto the bed, he crawled up between her legs and stared at her pussy. It was bikini and cheerleading season, so Marcia had trimmed her sparse light-blond bush into just a tiny V-shape just above her slit.

He could make out the folds of her labia, surrounding her slit and they fascinated him. Running his hands up and down her silky thighs, he leaned closer to her crotch and had to ask: "am I the first guy to see you naked?"

"Yep," she breathed hard, "another first."

His hands rubbing her thighs, Greg hoped: "is it OK if I...you know...touch?"

"If you don't...I'm going to," she admitted. Greg moved his hands up to her mound and used his thumbs to spread her puffy lips apart. He was mesmerized by the vivid pink flesh of her tunnel and overcome by the strong scent of her arousal. Droplets of her lubrication seeped out of her opening and dribbled down her wonderful ass cheeks. Greg let her hole close and began to drag his tongue up the sides of her slit; first one side and then the other. After several licks, he massaged her thighs and inserted his tongue as far up her hole as it would go. Wiggling it around, he used his curved tongue to scoop out her juices and let them trickle down his throat. Marcia's body trembled.

"You taste good," he assured her as her naked body began to undulate in front of him. "I have to ask," he hesitated, "but have you ever...are you a...."

Before he could finish, Marcia told him: "I've never had sex with a guy; but I'm technically not a virgin...I gave that up to a toy I found in mom's dresser...it felt nice."

"You know we're not related by blood," Marcia reminded him, "so I really want you to be my first. You care about me and are always considerate, and I think I could count on you to be gentle the first time."

"Oh you know I would be gentle," he answered, getting more excited by the minute. "The only thing is; I don't have any condoms. Do you think dad has any in his dresser?"

She shocked him by saying," we don't need them." Seeing the shocked look on his face, she elaborated: "last year my periods were really painful and irregular and mom took me to see Dr. Lee. She said the birth-control pill would help regulate my cycles and make them less painful; and she was right. You should have heard mom telling me: "you know this doesn't give you permission to go out and have sex." She was so funny."

"So what you're saying is..." Greg began.

"Greg...I want you to fuck me...now," Marcia whispered as she spread her legs even wider, "I need to know what it feels like to have a man's cock inside me." She grabbed one of her pillows and jammed it under her ass, telling him: "I read in a book that this gives a better angle for penetration; and I want to be sure that all that meat goes inside me."