My Sensual Power

This is the first writing I have ever undertaken so your feedback is welcome, be gentle!

Please note all characters in this story are fictional and are over the age of 18.

The story contains mild incest undertones and an unusual power by the main character. If you do not enjoy this type of fiction or in any way find the content offensive, then please do not read any further.

The story I wanted to tell takes time to tell. The sexual scenes are not quick to appear, if you are interested in a quickie this may not be the story for you. Perhaps you will come back and read this when you are more relaxed.

I am much obliged to several authors for their patience and assistance in my first efforts.

KatieAnnBB: Thank you for your guidance in "nudging" the story in a better direction and editing my first draft.

BourbonScotchBeer Thank you for all your suggestions and improvements and encouragement you offered.

Mistress_of_the_Dark: Thank you for your editing of later versions of the story and suggestions for title.

From an early age I had an unusual ability to focus and attention to detail. Not simply paying attention, but to truly focus on the details of a situation so passionately I lose myself.

When my grandmother was alive she would call it intensity gone-a-rye. My mother would call it a problem and take me to the doctor for a diagnosis and treatment. For me the greatest joy in life comes from the small details in any situation.

I try to enjoy every moment of life and relish getting so lost in the details of everything I encounter. This focus and attention to detail took a strange turn several months ago and has turned my world upside down as you will see.

The first time I realized something was extremely out of place or strange about me was playing high school baseball. I would become captivated with watching opposing players.

Often, being the pitcher, I would tend to focus on my counterpart for the game. I would study their mechanics and techniques before and during the game. So engaged would I become I felt it was me standing on the mound. Everyone knows how a small blister on a finger or tightness in the arm or leg could affect performance. I would imagine how it would feel for him if tightness would develop in the shoulder or hamstring. I could image how he would need to stretch or move to try to find relief.

To my amazement this very phenomenon would occur. Soon he would be rotating his arm attempting to loosen the tightness. I mentioned this once to my coach. He was of the opinion I was seeing a flaw in his mechanics and could predict the injury. This seem reasonable to me at the time and thought no more about these occurrences.

In hindsight I am not sure.

Seeing the star pitcher leave game after game my teammates starred calling me "Shamrock" being that when I was pitching I brought the team "luck"; or perhaps only because my last name is O'Shea.

My so called luck and with some ability on my part has been sufficient to help me receive a baseball scholarship to a midsize school an hour from my home. Neither my luck nor ability, has been enough to keep me as a starting pitcher. I have found this is an advantage for me now. Working from the bullpen I find it necessary to focus for a shorter length of time.

A new realization regarding this ability to focus ensued on a visit home from school the last Sunday in September.

Entering the church with my family and taking the regular seats we have for years I recognized the scattered freckles on the neck and shoulder of the young lady in front, Allison O'Neil.

I had stared at those freckles through two years of Spanish, a year of Biology and Chemistry; O'Shea being seated behind O'Neil by fastidious teachers. Allison turned to look as we approached, her smile beaming. She rose and exclaimed quietly, "Robbie! I was hoping to see you. I wasn't sure when you came home."

"Hi Allison, this is the first I've made it home this semester. I should have given you a call, when will you be coming back next?" I had wanted to say more but the looks we were getting from the people around told me Mass was about to begin. She took my hand and whispered, "We can talk more after Mass." I slid into the pew to make room for my sister Katie and our parents.

It didn't take long for me to drift away from the readings and somber hymns and I found myself once again staring at the same freckles. After a tenth grade Astronomy elective I had spent considerable time trying to make out constellations on Allison. I came to the conclusion that Orion the Hunter was the best representation I could find and only when she wore a shirt with a wide neck so I could see freckles often hidden otherwise. This may partly explain my solid C+ average in Spanish.

As Mass got under way I began to reflect on Allison. I had had a minor crush on Allison since my sophomore, her freshmen year. I had wanted to ask her out in worse way but could not manage the courage. Towards the end of my junior year, I decided to ask her to the prom.

I had rehearsed the scenario in my mind for a week. At the end of the day I finally had the courage to ask. I decided to walk her with her out of the school and wait for friends to depart. As I walked up, her best friend Jeannie said, "Hey Robbie, guess who was just as to the prom?" My heart sunk. She and James started going out afterwards and dated for almost a year. By the time my senior prom rolled around I had started dating someone and Allison went to the prom with a group of friends.

I watched her singing and gazed longingly at her profile. I smiled to myself as I looked at her neck. Peaking from beneath her hair I could make out the two top "stars" that made up Orion's belt. The rest was hidden from view by her sweater.

I could image how her skin would feel, neither warm nor cold to the touch. I knew that if you leaned close you would be able to detect the light fragrance she had applied an hour ago.

I had the overwhelming feeling of wanting to touch the freckles I had known for so long. In my mind I brought my fingertips across her neck and felt her skin beneath.

At that moment, Allison's hand came up to her neck and she looked back. Our eyes met and I could see the confusion since I was seven to eight feet away and no one else was any closer. Her eyes seemed to inquire, but she said nothing. Allison gave a small smile and resumed singing.

I was puzzled; it almost seemed she felt my touch. How would that be possible" After a short time I was curious if it would reoccur and attempted to re-focus as I had before.

I became aware of my sister looking oddly at me. She whispered, "Why are you being so creepy?" I decided to leave my experiment for another time.

After Mass I had a chance to catch up briefly with Allison. She loved being back at school, although this year was going to be harder than her freshmen year had been.

She told me, "I have decided to double major so I'm carrying 7 classes this semester."

I resolved not to mention my extra light class load.

She continued, "On top of that I decided to join a service sorority. Of course Dad heard Sorority and starts imagining wild parties or something," she informed. Laughing, she added, "My dad keeps reminding me I am there for my BS not my MRS."

Allison always had a way of making me smile at everything she said. I hesitated with my next question, "Speaking of MRS, is there anyone special you've found at school?"

"Well there is a guy I met in my Econ class," she reported softly. "How about you, have you found a girl who can't live without baseball?"

Hiding my disappointment I replied, "Not yet, no baseball loving girls in my life. I'm really happy for you. I hope things go well."

"Thanks Rob, I hope things go well for you too. I probably should get going we're going to my grandparents' house."

"Thanks Allison; hey tell your Grandpa O'Neil I still have the old ball glove he gave me, on my shelf in my room, I get it down before every game," I proclaimed with enthusiasm.

"That's sweet, he'll be glad to hear it. Let me know when you come home over winter break we should get together. Bye Robbie," she said waving as she walked away.

Feeling dejected, I trotted off to my parents' car. I pondered the situation. If Allison had said she wasn't seeing anyone, what would I have revealed? Would I have confessed to seeing Isabella? I hadn't lied in answering, Isabella didn't care all that much about the sport I loved.

Besides was I really seeing her, or was she just being the world's greatest tease? These were some questions that I was not going to sort out quickly.

I arrived at the car to see Katie leaning against the door making kissy faces. I simply shook my head and poured myself into the backseat.

The plan was to meet up and have dinner with my Aunt Kristen and Uncle Tony. Of all my aunts and uncles hanging out with them was always a good time. Aunt Kristen was my mom's younger sister by 13 years. She was the cool Aunt to hang around.

You always got the impression that she was and still is the wild one in the family. Mom felt the need to always protect our virgin ears and went to great lengths to change the subject when Aunt Kristen started telling a story.

Uncle Tony was one of my favorite people in the world. He had been in the Dodger's farm system when he was younger. He made it as far as Double A before a knee injury ended his career. Uncle Tony had taught me to throw a curve ball back in Little League and it was always great to hear his stories of "Back when." It wasn't just baseball we would talk about. He always seemed to know how to bring everyone into a conversation.

I was thinking about the questions I had wanted to discuss with him when my thoughts were interrupted.

"It was great seeing Allison again wasn't it Robbie?" my mom inquired.

"It was cool. I miss hanging out with her and some of the gang," I acknowledged.

"Robbie has a crush on Allison," quipped Katie.

Needing to shut this conversation down I replied, "Shut up. I do not."

"I think you do, you got that creepy far away glaze in your eyes," Katie teased.

Coming to my defense Mom stated, "Oh, Katie stop. There is nothing wrong with him liking Allison. I think she is a sweet girl."

"Can we stop this, please?" I begged. "I was just bored; it had nothing to do with Allison's neck." Immediately, I felt my cheeks turning red.

Dad jumped on this, "Who said anything about her neck?"

Katie self-congratulated herself in the seat next to me, "Ha. I knew it."

"Grow up Katie, it was nothing," I said defensively.

I felt the need to turn the direction from Allison, protecting her from my family, "Besides, there is a girl I've been going out with at school."

This of course brought my mother to full attention, "Who is this girl? You haven't said anything about dating a girl. What's her name? When will we get to meet this young lady?"

"Jeez Mom, this is precisely why I don't say anything," I said becoming incensed. "I didn't say we were dating; we've gone out a couple times. Everyone in this family always blows things out of proportion."

Mom retorted coolly, "I am sorry that I still want to be a part of your life. Does this young lady you have gone out with have a name?"

Feeling chastised I replied, "I'm sorry I wasn't sure how to bring it up and this sure wasn't it. Her name is Isabella. We met in class, had pizza few times, it's nothing serious. I help her with Calculus that's about it."

Not being content to let big brother off the hook, Katie felt the need to join in, "It sounds serious, because when have you ever taken pizza causally? Is she a sweetie like Allison or a real babe like me?"

Mentally thanking Katie for alleviating the tension, I remarked, "Well she's pretty hot, but she can't hold a candle to you dear sister."

Being the ever annoying sister, she added, "If she's so hot why is she hanging out with you dear brother?"

Katie punched me lightly on the arm and whispered, "I'm just teasing Robbie. Be careful though, I don't want my big brother having his heart stomped on. If a girl smiled and asked for help you would never say no."

All I could manage was a weak smile and shrug; she hit the nail on the head. I wasn't sure myself what Isabella wanted. I wasn't sure how much she liked or how to define our relationship. I found it easier to try not to think too hard about Isabella and me.

Katie grabbed her phone and put her ear buds in and settled into the car ride. I was trying to do the same however was not finding it so easy to relax. My thoughts kept coming back to what had happened with Allison in the church. I was positive that it was not just a coincidence, the exact moment I thought of touching her neck she seemed to have felt the touch.

Thinking over the situation I became aware of how vivid everything around me was at the church. I could recall clearly the sounds and smells of that exact moment. I hear the organ as it played. I could recall the young boy behind us whispering to get a drink and could hear the eloquent singing by Allison. It all seemed so real, reaching my hand out, brushing past the few wisps of hair and drawing the fingers across her skin. I could practically feel the touch in my mind again.

I wanted to see if I was losing my mind completely. I looked over at Katie. Her eyes closed, head resting against the window. I could make out her ear in the midst of her light hair. I allowed my breathing to steady and slowly drew my focus to her ear. I observed the shape and could imagine how it felt. Picturing the small gold stud in the earlobe I thought about how it would feel between my thumb and forefinger. I could detect the slight citrus smell around the base of her neck. I mentally gave a small caress to the lobe.

Katie's hand went up to the ear and brushed the imaginary fly away. I smiled inwardly at what I had discovered.

Being an almost 21 year old male of course ear lobes were not the normal anatomy on my mind. I glanced at Katie's chest and watched it move with her breathing. I watched the curve of her breast beneath the dress and watched the sunlight and shadows playing across her chest. I realized that I could see the small outline of her nipple and this is where I now focused. To be honest I cannot say why I did what I am about to describe. Never have I had any feelings for my kid sister. Not quite two years younger I always pictured her as the annoying sister who wanted to tag along with me and friends.

The only other time I had even the vaguest of feelings was the year before. She was having a pool party after graduation. She and another girl were on the shoulders of two guys in the pool. The object was to try to knock the other girl into the water. We always referred to the game as "Chicken." Dad had asked my help. Reluctantly I agreed and was carrying bags of ice to refill the coolers.

I looked up in time to see Katie's bikini top get pulled partially undone. She was intense enough in the competition to not notice immediately, however I got an eye full.

As I focused on the outline I recalled how her breast had looked with the pale pink nipples. I imaged her fading tan lines created by her favorite bikini top. My friend Moose had once commented that Katie's tits were just the right size, slightly more than mouthful but not quite a handful. This resulted in me knocking him off the tailgate on which we were sitting.

Once again I let my mind drift. I could make out mom talking to dad about attending a festival in the coming weeks, although the conversation did nothing to distract me. I recognized the slight scent of the citrus wash again. I knew the warmth created by the sun coming through the window made her breast warm to the touch. I envisioned her pale nipple. I fantasized taking my hand to her breast and cradling it softly.

Katie's eyes shot open and looked at me. I was quick enough to have my own eyes shut. "Robbie. Hey."

Feigning sleep I mumbled, "What?"

"Did you just touch me?" she scrutinized.

Fabricating my innocence, "No, you probably were dreaming."

"Seriously did you touch my boob?" this time demanding.

Becoming aware of the questioning, mom chimed in, "What's the problem back there?"

Quickly I jumped in, "Nothing Mom, Katie was dreaming someone touched her."

Katie now imploring her own case, "I wasn't sleeping so I wasn't dreaming."

Dad came to the rescue with his often used solution, "Everyone calm down, we're almost to the restaurant."

I had mixed feelings what had taken place. On one hand I felt rather creepy for having just felt up my younger sister, but at the same time there was an energetic feeling coursing through me know that I had done it with just my mind.

Meeting up with Aunt Kristen and Uncle Tony was awesome as always. Dad always joked more around them and often we would hear a new story or two about when mom and dad were dating. Mom of course was always on guard with this group and quick to deflect any accusation that she was once a young wild woman.

Aunt Kristen was as much fun as ever. Joking and carrying on in a way that my mom called childish. This made me realize that since mom had me when she was 25, Aunt Kristen was closer to my age than my mom's.

During dinner I realized how much Katie was starting to look like Aunt Kristen. They both had light brown hair with a natural wave. Aunt Kristen's a little shorter but very similar. Katie was forever trying to make it straight. More mornings than I care to remember Katie would storm out of the bathroom raving about her hair.

Aunt Kristen was more content to let the hair have its way. It did not look unkempt but gave a hint of wildness. Aunt Kristen was a few pounds heavier than Katie, but not at all in a bad way. She had more curves and accented them with her attire. A perverted thought crossed my mind. I was wondering if Kristen's nipple would look or feel like Katie's, not that I had touched Katie's nipple but at least how I imagined it would feel.

At this point I must have been getting that creepy look Katie had accused me of earlier. When I came to my senses everyone was silent and looking at me. My mom blamed Tony for giving me too much of his wine even though I was under age. Uncle Tony being defensive started explaining the legal drinking age in many countries. Katie announced I was in love. Thank goodness Dad and Aunt Kristen kept their opinions to themselves.

I mumbled an excuse that I had not slept much the night before and silently cursing myself for not having more restraint.

If I was going was going to continue experimenting I was going need to control my outer appearance.

Dinner with family went better than I expected. The food was amazing, conversation lively and to top it off we heard about the time Aunt Kristen and my grandparents came home to find mom and dad skinning dipping in the pool. Mom went nine shades of red getting Kristen and dad to shut up.

The ride home was not so eventful. I knew I needed to stay away from all body parts on Katie. Instead I spent the time practicing without looking so creepy; I managed to get my dad to use the f-word because of the "fly" that kept bothering his neck and ears.

The evening was a quiet one. Katie was off in her room and mom sat at her desk working bills. Dad was engrossed in the baseball game and chatted to me about different pitches and how they look to the batter. I enjoy the strategy of watching baseball, but just watching on TV doesn't have the same effect for me. I need the sounds and smell not just the action on the field.

My dad is responsible for the beginning of my love of the game. He would take me to Major League games a few times each year, but a few times each month we would go to one of several minor league teams that played not far away. I think in those early years it was the love of the popcorn and soda and hotdogs with mustard! He recognized how I appreciated the little things in the game. When I was high school we would walk to the nearby field on Saturday morning and toss the ball or he would be my catcher as I warmed up.