I.
Ann stirred very early in the morning. She felt a tension at the base of her spine, the same that she felt as a teenager and during college. It was a feeling of danger and excitement, and of breaking boundaries. She fluttered in and out of consciousness in the early dawn, only liminally aware that her domestic life had turned more complicated and perverse than she ever could have predicted.
Her body also felt unusual. Her nipples were electric. Even slight movements were unexpectedly pleasurable, due to the friction of her pajamas against her breasts. She shifted to her side, and brought a hand inside her pajama top to lightly toy with one of her crinkled nipples. The sides of her mouth turned upward into a smile. She pressed her thighs together, as if she was trying to trap the smoldering heat and not let it escape. She luxuriated in the pleasure, still half-asleep.
Ann was a sexual woman, but at this point in her life she was accustomed to her available sources of pleasure. She loved sex with her husband, and they had certainly explored a kink or two together. But they had gone as far as they wanted, and were no longer pushing any boundaries. They settled into a routine of enjoying a healthy fuck once a week or so, and that was that. As a result, sex was no longer a pressing concern of Ann's. It happened, routinely, and she enjoyed it. But as far as she was concerned, there was nothing more to see.
But on this day Ann felt something different, something unknown and tempting. A door had opened that she never knew existed, and her body was reacting the same way it had many years earlier, when the doors to sexuality first opened to her.
Soon enough Ann's sleepiness sharpened into wakeful consciousness. She blinked, looked towards the window and the grey light of early dawn, and gathered her thoughts. Oh shit! Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered what she had seen the night before. She had seen her daughter Dana walking away from the room of her son, Brendan. But more importantly, she saw some disturbing details: her daughter's breasts, nipples stiffened and pointing upwards at a trajectory suggestive of sexual excitement; her daughter's face, the flush of energetic movement poorly disguised by an purposefully blank expression; her daughter's hair, mussed in a recognizable way; and her daughter's scent, unmistakably that of youthful coupling.
Both mother and daughter were wise enough to just walk past each other to their rooms. But both mother and daughter were also intelligent enough to know the cat was out of the bag.
As Ann lay there, images developed in her mind. Her daughter spread eagle on her son's bed, cunt glistening as Brendan's turgid cock prepared to penetrate her. Her son's back muscles tensing as he plunged into Dana's tight young vagina. An enigmatic expression on her daughter's difficult-to-read face, a mixture of lust and regret as she yielded herself to her brother.
Ann quickly attempted to repress these images, to bring herself back to the present, and think about anything else. But when she retrieved her thoughts from fantasy and brought them to the present, she realized her body was aflame. She could feel her vagina lips sliding against each other, and she knew her nether regions were damp with arousal. Curious, she ventured downward with her hand, through the thicket of pubic hair, to her clit. Touching it nearly brought forth an involuntary moan, as streaks of sensation shot upwards from her pussy through her whole body. She idled for a bit on her clit, pushing it to and fro and lightly pinching it between her digits. In response her pussy clenched and flooded yet further. She was amazed at her physical response, and could not recall ever being so turned on. She usually wasn't even interested in sex in the morning!
She moved down and slipped a finger into the cauldron between her inner labia. Her fingers seemed to slip inexorably inward, almost as if her pussy sucked them past its slippery opening. Soon she had buried two fingers as deep as possible. The feeling was incredible. Deep inside, she could feel her striated inner walls quiver against her fingers.
Ann bent forward, making it easier to reach, then positioned her palm on her clit. She began to plunge her fingers into her cunt and simultaneously press her clit with her palm. After just a few insertions and extractions, the quiver of her cuntal walls concentrated into a full-fledged spasm, clasping her fingers as she began to orgasm. As her cunt squeezed, Ann plunged her fingers deep and pressed hard on her clit. Her orgasm deepened, rolling into an violent, uncoordinated outburst of energy. Her vaginal spasms were matched by a series of staccato yips from the back of her throat, as Ann unintentionally vocalized the torrent of pleasure crashing through her entire body.
Seconds later, the alarm clock sounded, marking 7:30. Her husband, a deep sleeper, rolled over and groaned. Meanwhile, Ann tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding and small waves of pleasure continued to pulse through her body. But her husband didn't notice. The alarm clock continued to insist, and he pushed himself up with muscular arms to turn it off. He tumbled out of bed and towards a shower, unaware that his wife still felt the aftershocks of her best orgasm in years, brought about by her own fingers.
Ann dozed while her husband prepared for work, enjoying the afterglow of her orgasm, but also turning over and over in her mind her thoughts about her daughter and her son, and whether they had fucked. She knew she should be disgusted. But she really wasn't. She was aroused.
II.
Brendan woke up early too, and the thoughts of what took place the night before rushed over him. He felt a little panicky. Had he really fucked his own sister? It wasn't his fault, he assured himself. She was basically calling the shots. She always called the shots. Still, he felt guilty and his breath was coming in somewhat shallow gasps.
He rolled out of bed and stood up. He opened a window and felt a rush of crisp fall morning air rush into his room. The bracing air felt good on his skin. He put on his glasses and looked at the disheveled image that he presented. His hair was wild from sleep, he was wearing only boxer shorts and socks, and his cock was hanging outside of his boxers, at half-mast. A crust of dried jism was evident on the tip of his cock.
Brendan stepped backwards and fell into his big orange easy chair. He reached down and grabbed his bong, sparked it, and drew deeply from it. The sharp edges of the morning softened even before he exhaled, and he leaned his head back, glad for the pleasant buzz.
He thought back to the last night. He stared at his bed, marveling that 10 hours ago, his sister had transformed from the super-student who never showed much interest in her younger brother to an absolute vixen. He thought about how she pressed her lips against his forhead. How the words "fuck me" sounded, whispered into his ear. How it felt to close his eyes and follow the whims of his tongue and lips, as he traced out each and every fold of her vagina. And how it felt to open his eyes, look up, between the pointed peaks of her breasts and see her head tossed back in pleasure.
Dana was always so complete. She was always a step ahead, never caught off guard, never vulnerable. She was also a striking girl, beautiful behind her sometimes icy disposition. All of this accounted for the scintillating effect of seeing her open her legs and abandon herself to passion. Looking at the rumpled sheets, and thinking about what had happened, Brendan almost couldn't believe it.
Brendan stood up and stretched, with his cock was now hard, standing proudly at attention. It was about 8:15 and he expected that his parents to have departed for work. Boldly he stepped out into the hallway and stepped down the hallway. He stood for a moment looking at the closed door to his sister's room. Just the thought of what he knew was inside was exciting. Was she awake yet? What was she wearing? Maybe she slept in the nude, he thought, as he turned and headed to the bathroom for a shower. He wondered when she would get up. When she did, would she find her pussy still coated with the copious amounts of cum he had deposited in her?
