I wasn't originally planning a second sequel, but enough requests have prompted me to expand upon the first two. Hope the wait was worth it.
*
They sat in silence at the dinner table that evening, shrouded in secrets. Patriarch George Foley was still wrapped in a drab grey dressing gown, owing to the bout of fever that had set the incredible day in motion. Evacuating his sickbed for an hour, George lapped at the soup whilst trying not to allow taboo musings to cloud his brain. Son Josh was uniquely quiet, his 19-year old head awash with the twin sins of guilt and lust, whilst 18-year old stepdaughter Lucy barely dared to look at either. Somehow, in the blink of an eye, each had gone from family member to lover.
Everywhere in recent weeks, Lucy seemed to have been bombarded with sex, none more so than recently. Her mind cast back ten minutes, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, legs crossing almost subconsciously to stem the urge to touch herself.
A close-knit family unit, thrown together by the deaths of both kids' mothers at an early age, openness prevailed and it was not uncommon to witness each other's nudity or for the bathroom door to remain unlocked. However, what she'd witnessed and her reaction to it shocked Lucy to the core. As she'd walked into the bathroom, mind on other things, Josh had chosen that exact moment to climb from the bath. Water droplets clinging to his strong hirsute chest, cock stiffer than perhaps it might usually be, owing to a bout of hand relief seconds earlier, their eyes met in terror. Thankfully his ejaculation was now swirling around in a whirlpool and down the plughole, yet a moment earlier and Lucy would have witnessed his calling her name in orgasmic frenzy, culminating in a spectacular shot of cum like string from a party popper.
As Josh groped for the out-of-reach towel, Lucy pulled up sharply, the scene in freeze frame. Her first reaction was to crave apology, followed by an almost subconscious shift of the eyes to his semi-erect manhood. Simultaneously, Josh's eyes honed in on her breasts, attentive nipples straining hard against the white cotton. The sexual tension like a coiled spring, unable to contain himself Josh reached out his wet paws, coating the firm pear-shaped breasts that stuck wetly to the material. Lucy exhaled hard, yet backed away sheepishly as Josh stretched to cover his modesty with the towel. "Um, dinner ready in five minutes," Lucy stammered.
The vision and the feeling replayed on Lucy's brain at the dinner table, arousing her. It didn't seem to take much these days to turn her thoughts to sex. It was as if she'd turned from an innocent virgin teen to some kind of cheap slut virtually overnight. Even the sight of a banana nestling in the fruit bowl caused her pussy to itch. 95% of her thoughts had a sexual slant, though the other 5% quickly found themselves infected with smut. Try as she might, Lucy could not rid herself of this newfound wantonness. Sat opposite her stepbrother now, she visualised his cock, tongue skirting her lips. Suddenly she felt all heady, her nose vibrating. "A-choooo."
"Bless you," offered George in a hoary voice, his first contribution.
Still indelibly etched on his brain like the lingering of a filament, the image of Lucy busily pleasuring both her and him as seemingly he slept provided a haunting visual. It had been so wrong yet oh so right. Guiltily he craved a repeat. At the same time, however, George was only too acutely aware of the competition offered by his own younger, fitter and more handsome son. That eavesdropped conversation between Lucy and her friend that had kicked off the day left no doubt in George's mind that her feelings for Josh went beyond the normal love between a brother and sister.
Lucy sneezed a second time, face buried in her hand, causing Josh to look up from his plate. "I think Dad's given you his cold," he joked, unaware of the implication behind the throwaway line.
Lucy knew it, and so did George, though Lucy was unaware her father had been conscious throughout. She glanced sideways, the guilt swiftly turning to lust, bringing a repeated tingling that added to the tingles elicited by the memory of Josh's wet, naked body, and which resulted in her panties becoming very damp indeed. "Daddy hasn't given me his cold," Lucy protested. "Tammy has one too. It's her fault."
"I wasn't aware you could catch a cold from talking to someone on the telephone," observed George, immediately regretting bringing up the conversation that had set in motion this turn of events.
Thankfully Lucy didn't pick up on the allusion, and never for one moment did she realise that her stepfather knew what she and Josh had done in that stolen moment. Yet the tension in the air was like an over-inflated and overstretched balloon about to burst any moment. It was Josh that diffused the tension by stepping down from the table. "I'm meeting Steve at the Crown," he announced. "Wanna join us?" The question was directed at his stepsister. "Let poor dad have some peace and quiet."
Lucy sniffed, feeling even groggier than before. She really had caught her stepfather's cold. "I don't think I feel like going the pub. You go. Daddy and I will console each other."
That thought, and the chain of thoughts that sprang from it like infinite strands of DNA sent a rush of blood to George's cock and he had to swiftly adjust the dressing gown. It was almost unbearable.
With Josh having vacated, the ailing pair set about the washing up. As Lucy bent to tuck away the dishes, the thigh length denim skirt riding up to reveal a triangle of cream panty, George experienced another throb. One minute she was an angelic girl-next-door, the next slut and seductress. Either way, George had to keep reminding himself that she was also his stepdaughter.
As he curled up on the sofa to watch a little TV before bed, Lucy stretched out on her belly on the floor, weight on her elbows, glancing through a magazine. Inevitably, George's attention was distracted from the screen by his stepdaughter's backside, its perfect curvature highlighted within the denim skirt. And yet Lucy had stretched out like this for as long as he could remember. It was as if she'd developed a fresh allure overnight, and suddenly things had become very different. His cock rose an inch from his thigh, barely contained within the dressing gown.
Lucy felt it too. Though she couldn't see from this angle, instinct told her George was ogling her legs and buttocks. The very thought made her as hot as hell, the words on the page of the magazine blurring before her eyes. Her pussy ached with lust and her panties were getting ever damper. Damn, she'd gotten through so many pairs in the past fortnight. Rising quickly, she announced her intention to take a bath and an early night, just catching George's eyes as quickly they averted to the TV. Leaning in, she stroked his forehead and pecked at his stubble-coated jaw. "Sleep tight, daddy. Hope you're better in the morning."
