This is the story of June and Jason, born a year and a day apart. June was a robust and thoughtful girl with an active imagination and only a few hang-ups brought on by her upbringing. Jason was the younger, with an inquisitive mind, playful spirit, and only slightly mischievous, for a boy. The two loved each other as only a brother and sister can, but hated each other as any two highly competitive, slightly neglected siblings naturally do.
This is the story of how the slight neglect of their parents, Virgil and Elizabeth, also born a year and a day apart, led each of the two to find a pseudo self respect in the demeaning, domination, and exploitation of the other.
Set in the rural countryside of northwestern Washington state, among the tulip fields of a small farming community, somewhere within walking distance of the rocky shores of the Puget Sound, our story ironically flouts all moral standards normally associated with the small, conservative, Christian society in which it takes place.
Virge and Libby had moved to the area 20 years earlier when their Tennessee hippie commune began to show signs of faltering under the egos, hardships, and rising debt visited upon them by the return to power of the Republicans and all the values they brought with them in the early eighties. Virge's family wealth helped them establish their own utopia in the fertile valleys of the Northwest.
Unfortunately, their utopian ideals also kept them in the dark when it came to the depravity, karmic ills, and basic nihilism of their own children's character. Had they been aware of where their self-illusionment was leading, Virge and Libby would have tuned in, turned on, and dropped dead.
Meanwhile, the story of June and Jason was moving ahead without them, as it had always done. It began innocently enough with simple exhibitionism. June, aware that Jason was dealing poorly with his own maturation, would parade naked from room to room, hoping to flaunt her nubile body, budding breasts, and curving hips before her younger brother.
Jason, predictably, would disappear into another room for a few moments of post-pubescent stimulus-response, secretly depositing the product of his manipulations into something belonging to his sister, the more intimate the receptacle, the more likely.
Usually a pair of used panties, as they were the most readily available and convenient. But sometimes he would shoot his spunk into something a little more devious, such as her lotion dispenser, her shampoo, or, on occasion, a clean pair of panties that he would return to her top drawer after soaking the absorbent patch in the crotch with his well-earned fluids. They would then become the source of future masturbatory fantasies.
June wasn't totally unaware of the consequences of her actions. In fact, June enjoyed listening at the bathroom door and would often wait to hear Jason's gasps of pleasure before retreating to the confines of her own bedroom to administer to her own libidinous yearnings. Though, had she been around when her clean underwear were soiled, she likely would never have donned them, allowing her loins to be spoiled by the unholy seed of her devilish brother
Jason only wrapped his erupting manhood in his sister's fresh cottons when he was quite convinced of the un-likeliness of being caught in the act, and this only happened when June wasn't waiting outside the bathroom door. Thus devious June's abundant fluids mixed rather infrequently with her sibling's.
Jason was also aware of the effect he could have on June. Masturbating in the morning could almost always guarantee him a playful, skirt-wearing, panty-flashing exhibitionist of a sister for the 7 hours between breakfast and after-school snack. Then a late afternoon fantasy session outside the bathroom door, as June was none too quiet when she would hit the massaging showerhead.
These activities, proclivities, and subtle manipulations continued for years, right under the noses of their daft parents. Each rarely venturing beyond subconscious acceptance of the other's libidinous affectations, June and Jason were ripe for an unbridled foray into the forbidden lair of incestuous coupling.
By the time June first began to consider leaving home, holding an ear to the bathroom door, listening to Jason's orgasmic release had become the biggest part of her personal sexuality. Imagining what was going on behind that door was the stimulus to her response and she'd found herself unable to come 'round to bliss without it.
She also thought about the semen she'd found in her lotion dispenser and other personal hygiene products. Rubbing it into her skin -- knowingly, disgustedly, willingly. Massaging it into her pussy. It was so dirty, but so erotic. Bringing herself to orgasm with the physical, fluid produce of her brother's, heretofore, merely audible orgasm.
She imagined watching his large, strong hands, one placed absent-mindedly on her right knee, forcing her legs apart, the other encircling his fleshy, pulsating cock with a languid stroking, tempting her hips into a matching rhythmic motion. And as she imagined the tension in his ever-broadening shoulders, she could practically feel the occasional brush of his knuckles on the swollen, slick inner folds of her hot, tingling pussy.
