This story contains graphic descriptions of incest. If you find that at all repellent, you should find your kicks elsewhere.
Chas
"Sarah! Steven! I'm heading over to Lisa's now. I'd appreciate it if one of you did the dishes. If you have anyone over, don't make a mess."
That was my Mum shouting up the stairs. She'd be gone for the evening.
The front door thumped closed. I paused my game and crossed the landing to knock on my sister's bedroom door.
"Fuck off, gingerballs!" she shouted.
"Any chance you're going to do the dishes? Or, I'll wash, you dry?"
The door opened enough for Sarah's pale, freckle-sprinkled face to poke out.
"Well, I've just texted Rob to come over. So, I'll weigh up my options. Do the dishes with you, or get pounded by Rob? Hmmm. Turns out the best option is... fuck off, you lanky twat."
The door slammed in my face, and I returned to my room, defeated.
I liked Rob Lynn well enough. In fact, Sarah met him through me. Rob and I played football for Upper Lipton FC at that time, and he was at ours watching a match one evening. She took a liking to him, obviously. Who wouldn't? He's annoyingly cool, good looking, confident. He's a car mechanic. Girls like mechanics. At least, I think they do. What I never did get is what this twenty-three year old guy who could have any girl he wanted saw in my nineteen year old, relatively flat-chested, freckly ginger sister. (I know, I'm also a freckly ginger, and flat-chested). I mean, she was pretty, but still. But I never minded hanging out with Rob, because he's a good guy. But also, with Rob often came Vicki. Not always, but often.
The doorbell rang, and I rushed to my bedroom door to descend to the hallway. Sarah was already on her way down the stairs though. Damn it! But I listened to the door opening, and the voices, and the kissing, and then - yes - the sound of Vicki's voice.
When Rob and Sarah got together, Sarah quickly became besties with Rob's sister, Vicki. Long, shiny, straight black hair, slightly chubby cheeks, in a cute way, quite short, about five foot. Three tattoos I knew of, including one all the way down her left arm. Piercings in her nose, lip, several in her ears, in her tongue, her bellybutton, and, she confessed to me one night, each of her nipples. I don't think I've ever seen her wear anything that wasn't predominantly black. And she was a flirt. Either that or she liked me, but back then, at eighteen years old, when this incredible twenty year old woman flirted with me, I couldn't believe it was anything other than teasing. Even so, it got me so turned on. This is the woman I will marry. I don't mean that fancifully; we got married last year. The wedding night was something else. And the honeymoon. But, those are other stories.
I went downstairs as casually as I could with a stomach full of butterflies and a jackhammer in my chest. There was Rob, with his perfect black hair and his trendy clothes.
"Hey, it's the orange terror! How're you doing, buddy?"
"All good, mate," I replied.
And there, in a baggy black t-shirt, a knee length black and red skirt with sheer black tights, and trainers, was Vicki, a bright smile on her beautiful face, and her big dark eyes gazing at me.
"Alright, kiddo?" she asked.
She often called me kiddo, as though she were more than two years older than me.
"Yeah, I'm good. How are you?"
"Yeah, you know!"
"This crazy bastard put a header in the back of the net about two minutes before the whistle on Saturday," said Rob. "Turned a draw into a win for ULFC."
"I know," said Sarah. "He hasn't stopped going on about it. Come on. Haven't you got dishes to do, bandy-legs?"
She led Rob by the hand up the stairs.
"I guess we'd better do those dishes, eh, kiddo?" said Vicki.
That was sweet of her. It's not like they were her dishes to do.
Vicki and I did the dishes while talking about music, reality TV and games. I told her about the game I was playing.
When we'd finished, she asked, "So, Stevie, does that game have a two player mode?"
"Yeah," I said, kind of nervously.
Vicki hadn't been to my room before. I hadn't actually cleaned it for... longer than I would have cared to admit, but I was hardly going to say no.
Up the stairs we went, me suddenly nervous again. On the landing, I could hear my sister's giggles and a couple of gasps far too clearly. Vicki and I went into my room.
"Sorry, it's a mess."
"Fuck, you should see my place."
I'd have loved to have done, anytime. I knew Vicki lived in a flat, but that's about all. We kicked off our shoes and sat on the bed for a while, controllers in hand, shooting the crap out of countless digital victims, dying and respawning. Vicki was good, better than me. And besides, I was distracted by Vicki's pretty feet and toes in those sheer black tights. As excuses go, you'd buy it if you could have seen them.
Eventually, our avatars were walking through quiet corridors, with only the distant growls of monsters to maintain the tension, and my sister's shouts could be heard from her room.
"Oh, yes, yes, fuck, yes!"
Vicki laughed. "Sort of a turn on, isn't it?"
"Erm, that's my sister. I'm not turned on hearing my sister fucking."
This was only partly true. Depending on how I felt, sometimes I'd check my sister out. After all, she was a young woman in my house, of an age when young women often swan about wearing as little as they felt they could get away with. Sure, she was a bit skinny, her legs didn't have the shape of Vicki's legs, but I'd occasionally fantasised about fucking her, then checked myself and felt bad after losing my load thinking about her. Other times, she was that bitch who lived in the same house who did everything she could to make my life miserable. Right then, with the sexual tension brewing in my own room, hearing Sarah being... whatever Rob was doing to her, was a bit of a thrill.
"So? It's my brother. Still a massive turn on."
She paused for a couple of seconds.
