[To my readers: This one's a little different.]
Maybe this won't interest anyone but me, but I'd like to tell you about it anyhow. I'm in my late twenties but I still live at home with my parents and my younger sister, who's twenty-one. We all get along well and we always have. We have always been really open and free with each other, too. I mean, it's nothing for my dad to pinch my sister's butt as she walks by him or to grab Mom's tit while one of us is looking.
I should tell you about us. Dad's a fun kind of guy who works hard and likes to play hard and laugh while he's at it. Mom is a little on the plump side, but nice-looking with curly hair and a cute face. She also has big round titties that only sag a little bit even if she is forty-nine -- at least, forty-nine is all she'll admit to.
The tits go with nice full arms and pouty lips, and long legs that reach down from her wiggly bottom. Dad must really like to fuck her, because he has always put it to her at least two or three times a week, and we can often hear them in their bedroom going at it not just at night but on weekend afternoons too.
My sister Jean is not what you would call beautiful, but she certainly isn't plain. She has light brown hair and eyes, and a slender and curvy figure. Her body is not as good as Mom's overall, but it's good enough for me. I have often tried to get her to do something physical with me, and a few times she has almost let me, but always changed her mind at the last minute. She does give me a lot of hugs and kisses on the lips, though.
Mom and Dad both know about my feelings for my sister. Dad just laughs, and Mom kind of snorts or shakes her head. They obviously don't mind, and they seem to think the byplay between us is kind of cute.
Anyway, we bought this new house only two months ago. The movers had already put the furniture in place, and Mom and Dad had brought over the dishes and the silverware and the other fragile or valuable stuff in the car. I was underneath the sink in the kitchen, putting in a replacement waste line, and my sister was standing on a chair right beside the sink, putting dishes away in the upper cupboard. By craning my neck a bit, I could peer right up the front of her dress, right up her shiny thighs.
You're probably wondering why my sister was wearing a dress, even an old one, to unpack boxes and put things away. It was just part of her general campaign to drive me crazy with her body. I knew that for sure this time because she wasn't wearing any underwear, not even the red thong she wears when she goes out on a date, and I could get quick glimpses of her shaved cunt as she carefully placed each dish one by one on the cupboard shelves.
"I hope you're getting your stupid eyeful," she muttered, smiling a little in spite of herself.
"Oh, I am, I am," I told her, not so quietly, peeking yet again at her swelling cunt lips.
Just then Mom came in with more dishes and set them on the table. "What are you two doing?" she asked, pausing for a moment.
"My trashy brother keeps staring at my crack," my sister whined.
"Well, if you'd wear something underneath, he wouldn't see it!" Mom snapped. "Donny, get back under there and get that drainpipe in!"
I half sat up and banged my head.
"Oh, he's seen it all before," my sister said, her whine changing without warning to a giggle.
"We all have, dear," Mom grumbled, turning away from us to get more things from the car.
Then Dad came in with an armload of plates, and by that time I was peeking again, the water pipe forgotten. He went into another room, then came back out, and Mom must have told him about us, because he stepped over to where my sister was still standing on the chair in front of the open cupboards.
"Is this what you're looking at, Donny?", he asked as he snaked his hand up the back of my sister's dress, exposing her ass to both of us.
Jean let out a little gasp of surprise and jumped just a bit, but she had a stack of dishes in her hands, so she had to be careful. Dad just kept his hand on her bare ass. Carefully, she set down the plates and slapped at his hand, and he removed it, grinning.
"Daddy, are you crazy?" she whispered, beet-red, both hands pulling down her skirt so he couldn't do it again.
"Girl, you need a shave," was all he said. "Your pussy lips have more hair on them than your mother's." He chuckled and walked out.
My sister giggled again, now even more scarlet, and turned back to the dishes. If it had been me instead of Dad, I wouldn't just have touched her ass. No, I would have gone for her pussy itself and taken a good long feel of it while she was trying to keep from dropping the stack of dishes. Not that I've actually ever done that, but I can think about it, can't I?
I told you all that just to show how easy we all are, and how we don't really get mad at each other. Mom grumbles, and Jean gets a little put out, but neither of them mean it and we all know it. As for Dad and me, we're always ready for anything. Anyway, about an hour later everything was inside, and all four of us were in the kitchen. The dishes had been put away, my sister was down off the chair (damn!), and the waste line was finally in.