All characters in this story are over 18.
Crescendo. Slow burn becomes rising warmth and ends in blissful hot sex.
I got some work in the next town, just eight days, but it meant I barely had time with mum or Emma for a while. Emma made a point of being proper around me. I'm not sure how she felt in those few days, but I know it meant my hormones targeted my mother instead. It was just little things -- I hugged her more often, I even tickled her a couple of times. Once I kissed her lips very lightly, like an accident, but I was encouraged by her holding my head and kissing me back, very lightly, but with her upbringing in a strictly religious family, I felt sure mothers don't kiss their sons on the lips.
If Emma noticed anything, she didn't give any hint that she had. But gradually I sensed mum was losing her inhibitions. It was no small thing that she'd sunbaked topless around me, and I was beginning to think there might be more to our relationship than in the past.
In my solitude at night, I thought about it. I knew for my part that I was capable of incest. If Emma had not put a brake on our sexual play, I would certainly have started an incestuous relationship with my sister. We'd been so close to that. So if I could do it with my sister why not with my mother? But it's not something you can afford to misinterpret. Emma was right. You can't just split up and move on when it's a blood relative.
Hours of rumination helped me hatch a plan to try to push boundaries while pretending it was all innocent and accidental.
On one occasion I left the bathroom door open while I showered, as we often did because of the inefficient fan I never got around to replacing, on a day when I could claim I thought mum was out shopping. I listened intently while I slowly masturbated, to maintain a near-full erection, and when the time was right I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out, wiping my eyes as if I had shampoo in them, cursing to complete the illusion and to draw mum's attention towards me. It worked like a charm. I wiped my eyes when I heard her say "Oh, my!" and saw her standing here, holding an armful of dry laundry, before she startled her gaze away from my erection and shuffled off. I looked down -- my cock had done its part and stood proud and tall.
On another occasion while working in the shed, I knew she was hanging washing on the line. I made a point of taking a piss against the shed wall where she would see. I had expected her to cough or tell me off or something but she was silent. And I
knew
she was watching me.
I even took an idea from my sister. That first time she'd squeezed my cock and went "Boop Boop" at the beach inspired me. I was behind mum in the kitchen, I'd playfully pinned her front to the wall while she tried to stop me squirting her with water from the spray bottle she used for the indoor plants. She wrenched around to face me, giggling, and our bodies were pressed together in a half-wrestle. I squirted her neck, then her cleavage above her front-buttoned cotton summer dress. She was reaching for the bottle, I was squirting and keeping it away from her. I let her grab it from me, and while she giggled and squirted me continuously with it, I grabbed both of her breasts and went "Boop Boop" as I grabbed it back off her and continued playfully while she play-slapped my shoulder.
She put her hands on her hips and said "Michael Simpson! Honestly! Groping your poor mother like that!" But she was not upset at all, even when I turned the bottle from 'spray' to 'stream' and emptied it at her, on her face, neck and chest.
She giggled like a girl as she tried to fend me off. She got soaked, and her dress clung to her wetly in many places. She attacked me front-on to put an end to it, we play-wrestled some more, occasionally her legs parted around my thigh and I felt her mound there. We'd had so much front-on contact that my own shirt was wet and see-through now. And I could not help thinking:
Yes. She's enjoying the body contact. This feels like more than just play.
I gave up the bottle and hugged her from behind, kissed her neck and the back of her head. My arms were under her breasts, her arms were under mine. She swayed side to side, playfully, gently. And yes:
there it was!
No mistake. She'd rubbed her bum against my groin.
I lowered one arm so I now hugged her tummy and below her breasts. I didn't know if her heavy breathing was from the play-fight or something else, but I held her tight with my chin on her neck, bent slightly, so as to control how much pressure I exerted with my groin against the crack of her butt. Not so much as to dry-hump, just so I could pretend innocence if she protested, but enough, I hoped, to give her a signal. If she wanted one.
It was like slow-motion as my mother reached up behind my head, I began to cup one breast while I pulled her bottom against me, she sighed... Then the front door banged and we jumped apart. Emma was home.
Mum sneaked off to her room before Emma came into the kitchen.
Emma took my hand and silently pulled me out into the garden. She said: "Level with me. What just happened?"
"Nothing."
"Bullshit. Mum scurried out of the room, your shirt's soaked and you have a boner. What happened?"
"OK. Secret safe?"
"Secret safe."
"I was trying to touch her breasts."
"And did you?"
"I would have if my bloody sister hadn't interrupted!"
"Oh. Sorry. Actually, no. I'm not sorry! What the fuck Mike? First me and then mum?"
"Well yes! Shit Emma. A week and a half ago us two were heading for..."
"Incest?"
"Yes! Fuck! My hormones are all over the place!"
She mocked me: "My poor brother! Look, I'm not exactly innocent either. Since you and I left each other alone I've been, well, doing the same as you."
"Huh?"
"Getting closer to mum."
"Oh. Um, for the same reason, you mean?"
She nodded.
Now this is interesting!
"OK. Look, Emma. How do you feel about it? Where do we go from here?"
Meekly, almost shyly, my sweet sister stepped closer, grabbed my flaccid cock and said "boop boop?"
I undid the draw string on my shorts and took her hand, placed it inside, and said "Boop boop yourself." It was lame, our little conversation, but we both knew what it meant.
So I stood there while my sister slowly, gently stroked my cock. I put my hands under her blouse and bra, fondled her breasts. And I made it clear: "Emma, I so want to fuck you."
"No. We can't. Not here."
She wore a tight business-style skirt. How the zipper didn't give way while I forced it up over her hips is a testament to its manufacturer's quality control. I forced my hand inside her panties and rubbed, pressing a finger inside her for lubrication before I teased her clitoris.
She sighed, her head dropped to my shoulder, and brother and sister stood there fondling each other, increasingly desperately, until I felt Emma tremble and moan. A brief orgasm rippled through her, followed by my jizz coating her hand inside my shorts. It was brief, it did not shatter the universe, but it was a turning point.
We giggled at the impossibility of rolling her skirt back down, then she went inside to shower and change for dinner. Despite the ejaculate in my pants, I stayed outside for a while then did the same.
