Author's note: This is another in a continuing series of stories about the sexy siblings Jack and Irene. Other stories in the series include: Jack and Irene: Hideaway Heat Ch. IV; Jack and Irene: Hideaway Heat Ch. III, Jack and Irene: Hideaway Heat Ch. II, Jack and Irene: Hideaway Heat Ch. 1, Heat Goes On With Jack and Irene: Ch. II;. Heat Goes on With Jack and Irene Ch.1, High Noon Heat With Jack and Irene, Hot Night With Jack and Irene Ch.2 and Hot Night With Jack and Irene.
Private feedback and public comments are welcome. It is much appreciated and encourages me to go forward with this series.
*
Jack awoke with a start. Someone was knocking on his bedroom door.
"Jack, you awake?"
It was Mom. Or Shelley.
Dammit. He'd have to get dressed.
"Yeah, Mom. I..."
She must have heard him moving about in the bed. "Don't worry, Jack. Just pull the covers up tight. I won't see anything."
Jack settled back on the bed, pulling the comforter around his neck. What did she want? he wondered as he glanced down at himself. Everything covered except for...shit.
A noticeable bulge protruded from the comforter about midway down its length.
Before he could do anything about it, Mom opened the door and poked her head inside.
Jack's groin throbbed. Mom looked so beautiful. Her short cropped, curly black hair had been freshly styled at the salon. She wore silver hoop earrings and her perfectly glossed lips were wide with a bright smile that showed off her brilliant teeth.
"Hi Jack. Sorry to disturb you, I know you were sleeping, but there's a favor I want you to do..."
Jack couldn't take his eyes off his beautiful Mom as she slinked through the door. His twenty-one-year-old prick stiffened while he looked at her sensually clothed form. She wore conservative and tasteful, yet sensual black slacks that at once concealed and revealed the teasing curves of her trim and very fit fifty-four-year-old figure. Black stiletto-heeled shoes proudly displayed the curves of her exquisitely tapered bare feet and her bountiful, D cup breasts almost burst from the rigid confines of her tightly buttoned black suit jacket.
Jack looked at her eyes. They seemed to be looking squarely at the bulge in the comforter. Damn, or maybe...
"What's up?" Jack asked, regretting immediately what he said.
Shelley smiled as she spoke, her eyes darting between the bulge and Jack. "The bathroom sink is backed up. Be a real dear and go down to the basement, get some of Dad's tools and try to fix it. I think you just need to clear out that U pipe under the sink."
"Okay."
Jack shivered with pleasure. His hardon throbbed as she sexily cooed, "Sorry to give you such a lousy chore on your day off, but it's got to be done. I know you're good with your hands, so it shouldn't be a problem."
Jack couldn't believe what he'd heard. Good with his hands? Was he dreaming?
She strode across to him and leaned over his bed. He shivered as she placed the palm of her hand on the comforter, touching his hip just inches from his erect cock.
"Okay, Mom," he whispered as he struggled not to stare down the front of Mom's jacket. She didn't seem to be wearing a blouse under it. Was she even wearing a bra? He wanted desperately to look, but didn't dare.
"I've got some clients to meet this morning. I'll be back late this afternoon. Love you, sweetie," she said. His cheek tingled as her lips brushed against it, leaving behind the faintest trace of a kiss.
Before he could do more, she slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. He heard her walk down the hall. A door clicked shut. Water ran, the toilet flushed. More footsteps padding along the hall and down the stairs.
Once he heard her car pull out of the drive, Jack leaped from his bed and opened the bottom drawer of his dresser. Underneath some old shirts and sweaters, he found one of his sister Irene's thongs he had secreted there.
Reclining on his bed, he draped the thong, now stiff with the dried fruits of numerous ejaculations, over his eager prick and he clasped his fist around his swelling manhood.
When he blew his load, he struggled to think of Irene, but instead, he pictured shooting a heavy, sticky wad over Mom's face and Mom scooping the wads with her fingers and dripping them into her gaping, greedily swallowing mouth.
*
The first thing that caught Jack's eye when he got to the washroom were the black silk panties coiled on the spotless tile floor.
Strange, he thought. Mom never left her undies carelessly lying around like that. But, what a lucky mistake!
Unless, she wanted him to find them like this.
His curiosity and his member aroused, he set the toolbox under the sink and took the panties in hand. The material felt soft as he rubbed the undergarment with his fingers. Yes, the crotch was sticky and damp. He raised it to his nose. The distinctive odor of come and pussy greeted him.
His mom's own come. Amazing! Had she been masturbating or, had that little chat in his bedroom before she left turned her on this much?
His cock stiffened in his pants. This was no time to be messing around with a sink pipe! No time at all.
He hurried to his bedroom, unbuckled his jeans and let them drop to the floor. His cock bulged against his briefs as he draped the panties over his face and breathed deeply their heady aroma. He remembered the caress of Mom's hand on his hip, almost touching his stiff cock. He pictured her hand pulling aside the comforter, exposing his swelling manhood, a smile crossing her face while her busy, firm hand gripped his shaft, pumping it, squeezing it...
A massive eruption of semen spurted from his member and soaked his shorts.
Shaking, almost gasping for air, he pulled the panties from his face, ripped down his shorts and wrapped the panties around his cock, soaking them in his sticky seed.
Once he had settled down, he draped the panties over the back of his chair, slipped on a clean pair of undershorts from his dresser, pulled on his jeans and returned to the washroom.
Clearing the drain was a bit more of a chore than Mom let on. Tangled coils of hair, a plastic safety cover from a disposable razor and several congealed clots of bar soap made for difficult and smelly scraping.
He was resealing the pipe and about to pack up the tools when he heard a car pull into the driveway.
He peeked through the curtain.
Irene.
What was his sister doing here? It had been weeks since he had last seen her and she had said she would call if she were to meet him again. Yet, after all this time, here she was!
He went down the stairs and met her at the door.
As usual, she was alluring. Even though it was Saturday, she was dressed in one of her trademark business slut outfits. She wore a tight, hip hugging powder blue miniskirt that brazenly exposed her thighs and a low cut white blouse. A black silk collar adorned her neck. Black stockings enticingly set off her long, curvaceous legs. Her chestnut brown hair cascaded about her shoulders.
She smiled and without a word threw her arms around Jack, who wasted no time smothering her with kisses. His eager hands roamed her D cup breasts and then squeezed and kneaded the generous globes of her ass. All the while he breathed deep her heady aroma of sweet perfume. He even detected a faint hint of cigarette smoke and stale beer. Had she been making out again with that guy who owned the building where they kept their hideaway?
He didn't ask and didn't care. All he knew was that his cock was throbbing. He took a hand from Irene's ass to guide her hand to his groin. She eagerly stroked his erection through his jeans while she muttered in his ear, her voice husky with lust, "I need you, Jack. I want you. I want you to fuck me. I need it so bad. It's been so long. Too long. Fuck me. Take me to your room and fuck me now..."
As much as he hated to, he held Irene away from him and guided her to the stairway. He tagged along behind her as she blithely ran up the stairs, transfixed by the bobbing and swaying of her perfectly rounded bubble butt and by the glimpses of her frilly stocking tops through the daringly high slit in the back of her skirt.
Soon enough, she was with him in his bedroom, standing ramrod straight before him, arms held high over her head, trembling, her breath coming in short gasps. She was still talking, half in a whisper, urging in a throaty voice, "I'm yours, Jack. All yours. Do what you want with me. Anything that turns you on turns me on. Do it to me. I don't care. Use me. Do anything. Anything..."
Jack had never seen Irene so aroused, so submissive. He didn't know why this was happening. He was simply grateful his sister was so compliant with his desires, so eager to satisfy him.
He slowly unbuttoned her blouse, easing its tails from inside the waist of her skirt. He set it down on the chair and then let his hands probe over her breasts and abdomen. She shivered as his fingers caressed her pelvis and then found their way to the small of her back. She tilted back her head and sighed, her hair falling down and brushing against his hands.
He unsnapped her bra, letting it fall away and freeing her glorious, all natural milk bags. He nestled his head between them, moaning as he flicked his tongue over her cleavage, teasing her huge nipples until they stiffened into titanic nozzles of lust.
Next, Jack turned his attention to his sister's miniskirt. He moved his hands over it, squeezing her ass through its fabric until he could feel her thong straps yield. He reached for the zipper at the rear and undid it until the skirt pooled around her ankles, exposing the whisper thin thong that barely covered her clean shaven pubic mound.
He eased the thong down her legs and buried his face in the sticky, musky crevice of her womanhood. His tongue probed inside her, tasting her woman meat, its saltiness and tang. Her thighs clamped around his head as he pleasured her. He felt her body ripple, heard her moan and grunt with feral passion.
At last, a massive onslaught of woman juice flowed from her and covered Jack's face as she was seized with a powerful orgasm. She shuddered one last time and with a squeal, she collapsed in a heap on his bed.
