The long legs demand attention. Bare, smooth, pale, flawless, I marvel at their perfection. Leaning with her arms on the counter top, her ass arched, the simple, short black dress hugs her thin form. Standing straight, she steps back and I can see between her legs, her perfect teenage ass bisected by a tiny black thong. "What?" I hear her question before she suddenly turns and looks down at me. "Oh my god, stop looking up my dress!" my sister says, grabbing her purse and stomping off, the back door opening and closing. Lying on the floor, I can't tell if she is actually mad this time or not.
I see Mom shake her head and laugh silently. I just chuckle and go back to connecting the drain for the new dishwasher as Mom gets up from the kitchen island and stands over me, placing her glass in the sink. "How did I raise such a naughty boy," she laughs, bending to inspect my work, "Sure you don't need any help?" she asks, grinning, her sports bra straining to contain her ample bosom, hanging only inches from my face.
"Not the kind you mean, Mom," I wink.
"Jesus baby," Mom snorts, "you're such a shameless flirt. I almost think you mean it," she says, pausing before jokingly adding, "Too bad you're my son."
"Hey, you know what they say about incest," I jest, scooting out from under the sink.
Stepping back to give me room, Mom guffaws, "Just because family stuff porn is popular doesn't make it okay. Besides I'm your actual mother, you know? Not some bimbo stepmom."
"You watch incest porn?" I question Mom, a mock shocked expression on my face, before cracking a smile.
"Hey... I... That's none of your business, mister," Mom stammers, "Do you?" she asks, clearly hoping to put me on the back foot.
"Duh. Bimbo stepmoms are hot," I chuckle, calling her bluff. "I mean not as hot as real mom's, but they'll do," I say letting Mom see my eyes wander over her body. "But I still like stories more than videos, to be honest," I tell her matter-of-factly, pressing, seeing if she'll keep playing.
"Stories? You mean like... on Literotica? How long has this been a thing for you," Mom questions, her eyebrows raised.
"Yeah, they've always been my favorite, since... forever," I tell her. I can't tell if she's more surprised by
what
I'm telling her, or
that
I'm telling her.
"Which, um... you mean...the... incest stories?" Mom asks.
I shrug and say, "Yeah," then, suddenly feeling the need to justify my interest, quickly add, "I mean... they're hot."
"Oh... okay..." Mom says simply. It's unlike her to give up so quickly, maybe she's a little shocked by my honesty or maybe reluctant to press anymore, scared where it could lead. She stands silently watching me load the dirty dishes and a detergent pod in the new machine before starting it. "That's it, really?" she asks.
"Yep, told you it was no big deal," I tell her as we stand listening to the barely audible hum as it begins it's cycle.
"It's so much quieter than the old one. Thank you so much, hun. It really helps not having to pay for the install," she says craning to kiss my cheek.
"If this was an incest porn, you'd be kissing something else," I tell Mom and crack a smile seeing I finally really shocked her. Mom just stares at me, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open. I can't tell if she's trying to think of a smart reply or is maybe actually mad at me.
--
I suppose I should try to contextualize my relationship with my mother and sister, the simplest explanation is the flirting is a by-product of our current living and financial situation, and the fact that Mom and I never really had a traditional parent-child relationship. Mom was only 16 when she had me. She was a great mom, but the age difference certainly influenced her approach. I realized early on she wasn't like my friend's moms and not just her age. My friend's moms didn't talk to them like Mom talked to me. She was open and free and shared her life with me. She cussed, she talked about work, friends, boyfriends, clothes, movies, TV, bills, hopes, dreams, and sex. Things I came to learn most parents shielded their children from, but for a long time I was convinced it meant Mom loved me more than my friend's parent's loved them. By the time I was in high school we were more like old friends, joking and cutting up all the time, often trying to shock or embarrass each other.
After living on my own for nearly six years, I moved back in with Mom and Sis three months ago to help pay bills. Soaring costs and stagnant wages had finally caught up to us. My rent doubled, and I was looking for a solution when Mom told me she was struggling with bills, everything having gone up significantly the past several years. Her house, the one I grew up in, was nothing special, an old, ordinary middle class home in an old, ordinary middle class neighborhood. At least it used to be until people started moving into the area and buying houses just to tear them down to build something much bigger.
The house had belonged to Mom's grandparents, who raised her, and who sadly passed away only months apart when I was five years old. We moved in soon after and it's been our family home since. Over the years the interior was updated as money allowed. Sis had taken my old room and I had incorporated her old room into Mom's to create a proper master suite like Mom had always wanted. That was done never imagining I'd move back home, so I've been sleeping on a futon in the enclosed back porch while a second story addition is added to the detached garage to create an apartment. Soon the roof will be on and I'll be able to move in while I finish the interior in my spare time. Other than that the house has largely remained unchanged and as the neighborhood becomes more gentrified, it becomes more of an outlier.
Mom had been really upset, she felt backed into a corner and was ready to give up and sell. She would clear a mint but certainly not enough to 'retire' let alone to buy anything else close enough to either her or my sister's jobs. Being 18, my sister's hostessing job at an upscale steak house could possibly be replaced if they relocated to the suburbs, but she was also attending classes at the nearby community college two days a week. Mom works as a bartender at a very upscale boutique downtown hotel. She says it's easily the most she's ever made bartending fully clothed, so her income is not easily replaceable. I had gone to trade school and have worked my way up to being an assistant superintendent for a construction company. So, as you can surmise, we are struggling financially, requiring three incomes to hang onto being 'middle class.'
Like I said, Mom got pregnant when she was 15. My dad, 24 at the time, was a 'professional musician' and he was kind of around off and on until Mom got pregnant with my sister when I was seven years old, and he finally split for good. Mom has always said we have the same father, but given my sister looks very little like either Dad or me, but does look suspiciously a lot like Mom's married boss from that time, I assume she's technically my half sister. Not that it matters. My point is we've only ever had each other to rely on.
Over the years Mom typically worked bars in clubs that required her to dress sexy. Booty shorts, miniskirts, bikinis, even lingerie. So it wasn't unusual to catch glimpses and Mom was never shy, typically walking around in her underwear and often tanning naked. It wasn't unusual for me to come home from school and swim while she tanned, or sit on her bed and talk about my day while she showered and dressed for work. And yeah, Mom is hot. Like girl-next-door sexy. Short and compact, she's always worked out nearly every day and has maintained her curvy but tight figure. After having my sister she got her boobs done and they remain eye catching. Her cute face, dark eyes, and fashionably cut short dark hair help her to continue to look 10 years younger than she is. Her current work uniform consists of a short fitted skirt with a fitted sleeveless low cut dress shirt and a very low cut pinstripe vest. And yes, she still looks hot as fuck.
And yes, I've always thought Mom was attractive. I went through all the phases. Childhood puppy love and adoration. Pre-pubescent curiosity and confusion. Teenage lust and guilt. Young adult frustration and disappointment. Despite the acceptance that sex with Mom was almost certainly never going to happen, my desire never waned, even as we lived apart and I accrued sexual experience. No one's ever measured up to Mom in any way. I always suspected she must realize I had feelings for her beyond just parent and child, but she never said anything, and the older I got the less embarrassed or reluctant I was to let her catch me looking at her, and she never acted to dissuade me from doing so.
I suppose you could call the current phase comfort and temptation. There was a part of me that was equal parts nervous and excited moving back in, but we instantly settled back into our old comfortable routine like I'd never been gone. So, I'm not scared to flirt and let my eyes wander or comment, and Mom seems unbothered, flirting right back, often responding with a smile, if not a shake or wiggle when she catches me looking.
So yeah, Mom is always a lot of fun to be around, she gives as good as she gets. Others may judge my mother's parenting as inappropriate, or lacking proper boundaries, but I've always felt loved and supported. I've never had reason to question my mother's unconditional love and I've come to view her openness as an integral part of that love. It's what I missed the most living on my own and I've never experienced anything even as remotely intimate with anyone else.
Working nights, Mom's dating history was always kind of random and spotty. But there were lots of boyfriends and some 'uncles' through the years, and the older I got the more she shared. Never graphic, but she wasn't shy to vent to me about someone's 'faults' after a breakup and I eventually found myself doing the same. Hints Mom dropped helped paint a picture that she loved sex and had some wild times. "Some of the stuff that happens when the club closes..." she told me once when she was bartending at a strip club.
Well before I moved back in I had realized Mom hadn't been in a relationship for a while and seemed less interested in dating as time went on. When I'd bring this up she'd blow off my concern saying all the good men were taken and she was growing tired of hooking up as the men her age were serial cheaters and the younger guys just wanted the conquest, "Not that that's not still fun sometimes," she'd snicker before complaining she needed "a real man."
My sister was never on my sexual radar until I moved back in. Being so much younger she was always just a kid to me. A responsibility. But not anymore because, well, I'm not blind, especially to 18-year-old blue-eyed blondes. I'd heard stories the last year or so, comments about someone being at a party she was at and that she wasn't quite as innocent as she appeared or acted. Mom was unconcerned when I brought it up, assuring me Sis 'knows what she's doing,' and was 'being safe.' Sis has Mom's cute heart-shaped face, but is taller with those amazing long legs, a tight bubble butt and crazy firm tits, so tight the puffy nipples look painful. How do I know, well she's not shy about swimming naked. Apparently this was a common occurrence before I moved back in and she decided she didn't need to change her routine on my account, seemingly unconcerned about her big bother seeing her naked. So yeah, it's a little hypocritical if she actually was bothered when I looked up her dress.
Our situation is certainly far from idea, but we're making the best of it. Thankful to have each other, and ever aware it could always be worse. Working 12 hours most days, I don't have a lot of time to dwell on our circumstances, or the time or money for a personal life either. I've tried to be respectful of Sis and Mom's privacy, and careful about my masturbation habits. The good thing about both Mom and Sis working at night is I get some privacy in the evenings, but being 26 I'm still always horny, and living with two babes and limited privacy only makes it worse.
Of course being in such close quarters we've all seen each other in various states of undress. Besides Sis swimming naked it's not unusual to catch them both partially dressed, Mom often in her sheer silk robe or fresh out of the shower with just a towel around her head. Or Sis, lounging around in one of her incredibly small, obviously years old, t-shirts. Apparently these were hard habits to break after having had the house to themselves for so long. One day I came home to find them both naked, Mom tanning, and Sis swimming. Mom put her bikini on, but Sis didn't bother until I came out to swim and Mom told her to. And both of them have seen me, Sis walking in on me in the shower a couple of times and Mom walking in on me changing one evening and then jerking off on two separate mornings, offering a simple 'Oops, sorry,' each time.
--
Staring at each other in the kitchen, Mom's shocked, slack jawed stare finally fades, replaced by a curious, unbelieving grin, "You... Would...I mean? You wouldn't really... would you," Mom asks.
