Incest/Taboo Paula

"Were you close to your wife?"

I was surprised by the question from a near stranger but, in this case, wasn't offended. I felt Paula knew the answer already and was simply seeking confirmation.

"Yes, I was."

I shifted my gaze away from Paula's legs, expecting her to turn around to face me, but she didn't. Instead, she continued her odd habit of looking away.

"It's nice being so close to someone. I miss it."

I didn't respond because I thought it would be prying into her and Mike's relationship but Paula continued anyway.

"I was very close to my husband."

I presumed she was talking about her first husband, the father of her childred, and not Mike, but I didn't reply.

"It's rare for two people to truly know each other well."

It was a statement rather than a question but I nodded anyway, which was silly, given she was looking into the darkness, but it didn't seem to matter.

"Were you and your wife close like that? I mean, truly intimate?"

"Um, yes. I guess we were."

"Michael isn't close to anyone. Oh, I know he loves me, but it isn't in him to be truly close to anyone."

I held my tongue. I didn't want to get involved in marital discord no matter how kind and intriguing my hostess. Paula used her right foot to scratch an apparent itch on the back of her left calf. Knocking the shoe off her right foot, she brought it behind the left and used the top of her toes to scratch her leg. Much too soon for me, she bumped the sandal off her left foot and used it to scratch the back of the right leg.

Paula put her glass down and leaned forward, pressed her breasts against her raised thighs, and ran her hands down the top of her lower legs to her now bare feet. I enjoyed watching her hands slide down her legs and her toes curl upon their approach. She turned her head to rest it on her knees, and looked at me, catching me in the act. She smiled, a pleasant, inviting smile.

"Did you do special things for her, Peter?" Her voice was husky and warm.

"I supported her causes, went to the opera, remembered all our anniversaries, that sort of thing."

Paula smiled and her eyes twinkled. I knew that wasn't what she was talking about but she let it go.

"You seem to be a very nice man. I'm sure you did all that and more."

"I did my best to please her."

Paula rubbed her hands along the length of her calves. "And, I imagine, she for you."

I was glad that she turned her head away so I could digest her words without scrutiny. They could be interpreted on a superficial level but the forward flex of Paula's body, the hands running down her legs, the press of her head upon her thighs, and the depth of her eyes when she finally turned to look at me, placed the conversation on a level of intimacy that I hadn't experienced with a woman since Linda had passed. Startled, I realized I was aroused and instinctively brought my hands together over my lap. Paula leaned back, picked up her port, and stood up. I heard someone greet Mike inside the house.

"It's late," she said. Most of her weight was placed on her right foot which pushed her hip to the side. "I hope you didn't mind me prying, Peter, but I get a little melancholy when Michael works late, which is a sometimes too often and others not enough," she said with a wistful smile.

I stood up myself, to be polite, and instantly regretted it when my condition became evident. However, Paula didn't seem to notice. She bid me goodnight and surprised me as she passed by, pausing to briefly brush her lips on my cheek. I watched her go, marveling at the flexibility of her legs and the way her buttocks kicked the dress to the side as she walked away in bare feet. From the back, she looked so much like Linda.

I sat down and finished my port. Mike didn't come out to the patio and I was thankfully left alone with my thoughts. I couldn't match this woman, so frankly intimate, with the reserved lady I had met in the afternoon, or either one with Mike. As the day had progressed, she had become steadily warmer and more personable. At least, she had after I met the children.
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For the rest of the week, I went to the office with Mike. I met the sales staff but except for a few brief sessions, I was left pretty much alone. The salesmen didn't hang out together much and only met to trade stories if they encountered someone while getting coffee. They were like sharks circling one other and all of them, Mike included, were threatened by technical people while simultaneously, and paradoxically, feeling superior to them. I was tolerated only because Parker had sent me.

I saw Paula and the kids at dinner but, in Mike's presence, the lively dinner discussion wasn't repeated and neither was the frank conversation with Paula later in the evening. However, a more intriguing set of events did occur later in the evening after everyone had gone to bed.

On Tuesday, I awoke in the middle of the night, which wasn't surprising since I was never comfortable sleeping in a strange bed. I sat up and turned to put my feet on the floor. It was then that I noticed a light under the door. Thinking someone else was up, I waited. I didn't want to encounter anyone in the night while using the bathroom.

I listened but couldn't hear anything that would indicate that anybody was up so I went to the door, paused to listen again, and then opened it a crack. I still couldn't hear anything so I pulled the door open and stuck my head into the hallway.

The bathroom light was on and the doorway was open. Someone must have forgotten to turn off the light. Probably one of the kids since Mike and Paula probably had a private bathroom connected to their bedroom.

I slipped into the dark hallway and quietly crossed the six or seven steps to the open doorway. I looked into the bathroom and was surprised to find it occupied.

Paula's back was to me. She was simply standing, looking out the bathroom window, with all the patience in the world. The light, above and on the far side of her, lit up her body so its silhouette shone through her nightgown. I knew she had a good figure but to see it this way made that assumption seem uninspired.

Her body was truly remarkable. A perfect, elongated hourglass with a beautifully slender neck protruding from the top, slightly muscled arms hanging listlessly from the sides, and a fine set of legs extending to the floor. I cleared my throat, but Paula didn't turn around, or even turn her head slightly. She didn't respond at all.

"Paula?" I whispered.

Nothing.

"Mrs. Entwhistle?"

Nothing.

I started to turn away, then changed my mind. I stepped into the bathroom and brought myself close to her, worried that she was having some kind of strange attack.

"Paula?"

I looked into the mirror to her left at the profile of her face. She seemed far away. Except for the fact that her eyes were open I would have said she was asleep. My gaze dropped lower in the mirror, along the outline of the front of her body. Paula's breasts were easily discernible under the nightgown, sloping down and swooping out, her nipples seeming to hold the nightgown up on their own. An electric bolt shot through my penis, which had been dormant since our intimate discussion the night I first arrived.

"Paula?" I whispered.

I put my hand tentatively on the outside of her upper right arm and she turned to face me. She wasn't awake. Paula was sleep-walking!

I stepped back and to the side, surprised, and Paula started walking. She went right out the door and into the hallway, then stopped. I followed her and whispered her name again. When nothing happened, I turned her toward her room. Paula walked calmly to her door and stopped. I followed and stood behind her.

The door to her room was open about halfway. It crossed my mind how awkward this would be if Mike suddenly got up and found me standing so close behind his attractive wife who was clearly naked under the semi-transparent nightgown. Nervously, I looked into their room but couldn't see anything. It was dark.

"Paula?" I whispered, very quietly.

There was no response. I glanced into her room again, then touched her shoulders and urged her toward the right to face the bedroom doorway. She complied but didn't move forward. I sighed, and swore under my breath, "Shit."

I got behind Paula and gently prodded her back but she still didn't move. I nudged her again but, upon continued resistance, pushed harder. The added pressure forced my hands past Paula's shoulder blades and under her arms. Suddenly, my fingers were scraping beside the fullness of Paula's breasts. Oh, God.

I wanted to grasp them fully, to pull her firmly back until her ass nestled against my bulging cock. I was suddenly acutely aware that I was standing in the hallway, behind my hostess, dressed only in my underwear, with my hands cupping the sides of her breasts. This was insane!

Paula took a step forward, then another, and another. She slipped into the darkness and out of sight. I stood there for a minute, breathing hard, looked down at the hardness poking through my shorts, and then up into the impenetrable gloom. I turned away and started back to my room.

"Are you okay, Darling?"

I quickened my pace and beetled into my room, not stopping to use the bathroom or to turn off the light, and clicked the door closed behind me.
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I stayed up the next night, listening for signs that Paula might walk in her sleep again. I finally fell asleep but woke up twice. Both times, I checked to see if the bathroom light was on and got up to listen at my door. Nothing.

The following night, however, I was in luck. Paula was in the hallway, at the end, near the closed doors of the children's' rooms. I walked quietly down the hall and, without speaking, for fear of awakening the children, turned her around. After a brief pause, Paula starting walking toward her room. As I followed her, I remembered the children boarded at their school during the week. When Paula drew abreast of the bathroom, she stopped.

I prodded Paula's back but she didn't move. About to push her harder, I changed my mind and turned her into the bathroom rather than past it. She walked ahead and stopped beside the sink. I brought myself close, as I had two nights earlier, and looked into the mirror.

Her slumping breasts sagged against the nightgown and, like before, the nipples pushed up as if tasked to prevent the flimsy material from cascading off her shoulders. She had a fine set of mature tits, so much like Linda's. I yearned to hold them but fortunately restrained myself. I turned Paula to face the mirror and stepped behind her. I wanted to look over her shoulder at her tits but realized my error as soon as I looked into the mirror.

Paula was looking back at me, unseeing to be sure, but it was unnerving to see her gaze directed right at me. I looked back, too startled to do anything else, but when I realized she wasn't really looking at me, that she was indeed asleep, I let my gaze travel down her front.

The nightgown dipped down in a deep V and I could plainly see the divide between Paula's breasts. My breath caught when I saw the inner swells and my attention fixed upon the dark nipples under the nightgown. I started to reach around to take hold of her wondrous globes but caught myself in time. Retracting my arms, I pushed them between her arms and her body, as I had done before, and satisfied myself with the feel of the outer swells against the underside of my fingers.

Madness!

If she woke up, how could I explain myself?

I let my hands drop and they slid down her waist until they hit her hips. I didn't pull them away but instead closed my fingers around her waist. Stifling a groan, I urged Paula toward me. Her bottom settled against my front and my cock swelled to meet her, growing and pushing against my shorts to nestle into the groove of her behind as if it was made to be there. My hands slid up, recovered the sides of her breasts, and then curled around to take their full measure.

Holding Paula's tits, I pressed into her ass, thrilled by the acceptance of her rear cushions which were firmer and more prominent than I expected. Looking down, I confirmed that her buns actually did stick out. I had noticed this before but thought it was due to the constraining pressures of the riding breaches rather than a natural expression. Now I could see I had been wrong. Paula's ass was supple, firm, different, and very arousing. I pressed my hardened cock, which was straining against my shorts, into the crevice until I felt her cheeks fold around it.

Madness!

Abruptly, I released Paula and stepped back. I scrutinized her face in the mirror to make sure she was still unconscious of my presence. Gently, I urged her toward the bathroom and into the hallway, then down the hall toward her room. I turned Paula toward her doorway and she started to walk through it but I grabbed a handful of her nightgown and stopped her, then slipped my hands through her arms and took hold of her breasts for a final feel. I hugged her back and hunched myself against her bottom, then lowered my head until my lips caressed her bare shoulder. I kissed it, then reluctantly let her go.

Paula stepped forward and disappeared into the darkness of the bedroom. I waited for the sound of Mike's voice, knowing I shouldn't, but feeling unable to leave. There was no greeting, just the rustle of bed covers as Paula got back into bed and then a muffled groan.
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On Friday, Mike said he had to work late and arranged for a car to take me home. As we were driving away, I spotted him leaving the front of the building with one of the female staff, a young woman in her mid-twenties. He looked as foolish with her as would any man my age. What a fool.

There was a strange car in the driveway when I arrived home. Upon entering the house, Paula introduced me to a suave looking man about eight years her junior. He bore a remarkable resemblance to her so it wasn't much of a surprise when she introduced Robert as her brother.

"Her twin brother, of course," Robert smiled as he extended his hand.

"I wish," Paula laughed.

Dinner was ready to be served. Mike hadn't thought to call ahead to let anyone know I would be late but they had waited anyway. Paula didn't seem surprised that I was alone.

The conversation at dinner was lively and enjoyable. The kids were unrepressed in Mike's absence and buoyed by Robert's presence, who was clearly a favorite uncle. Apparently, Robert was married and lived nearby. He had children of his own, twin girls, but they weren't yet in school.

By the time dessert was done, Robert had cajoled me into exploring the estate on horseback the next morning. Linda and I had once holidayed at a dude ranch and had been surprised by how much we enjoyed it. Those horses were plugs so I was apprehensive about testing my equestrian skills on the sleek, spirited animals in the Entwhistle's stable. I thought I had hidden my nervousness rather well until, on the way from the dining table to the living room, Paula hung back behind the others and pressed close to me.

"You'll be fine," she whispered and squeezed my hand.

We talked for a couple of hours without a lull in the conversation but the kids disappeared when Paula turned on some classical music. It was only then I realized that there hadn't been any external distractions, no music or television. The music was welcome, however, because, together with the port and lively discussion, I was felling a little drained. For the past three years, I had been used to going home and watching the idiot box, as my father used to call it, without really paying attention to what was on.

Forgetting about Robert, I followed Paula with admiration as she moved. Watching her lovely figure, so similar to Linda's, I felt suddenly guilty for my inappropriate exploration of her charms. It was during this honest condemnation of my behavior that I felt Robert's eyes upon me and guilt sent blood rushing to my face. I didn't turn to meet his gaze.

Paula didn't return to sit on the chesterfield between Robert and me. Instead, she walked around the couch and stood behind us while we listened to the music. Paula struck up a conversation with Robert which lasted a minute or two before she pulled me into it. As we talked, Robert and I turned sideways to face each other, extending our arms along the back of the couch, so we didn't have to twist around to look at Paula. Robert seemed friendlier than ever and I wrote off my earlier fear of his scrutiny to my own paranoia.

I felt very relaxed, occasionally sipping from the glass of port in my right hand and contributing to the casual discussion, without feeling any pressure to do so. Paula and I became immersed in an exchange and she turned toward me, leaning her hip against the couch. While she was making an important point, I looked away from her face to think about what she was saying.

Gradually, I lost track of Paula's argument and became more aware of what was happening right in front of me. Paula had leaned more heavily against the couch as she talked and Robert's arm had slipped partially off its edge. The full length of my arm was still aligned along the couch with my hand reaching almost to the front of Paula's hip, but Robert's arm departed at the elbow and his hand was hidden from my sight.

Suddenly, I forced my eyes to look rigidly ahead, past Paula's waist, but not low enough to seek Robert's hand. I think Robert was touching his sister's ass! In fact, I was sure of it. I tried not to look at him and compelled myself to stare straight ahead, although I knew it must look unnatural. There didn't seem to be movement or any other sign but I just knew I was right. Unable to control myself, I glanced at Robert, but wasn't prepared for the knowing, mischievous smile. I was stunned.

Paula suddenly twisted away from her brother. "Stop being a brat, Robert."

She had spun right around and was now facing him more than me.

"He always makes fun of me when I get serious about anything. Brat."

After this mild admonishment, Paula repeated her argument to her brother. She queried him at several points, daring him to take issue with what she was saying, but he wisely refrained from doing so. With my host thus engaged, I let my gaze slide away from the side of her face and down her back. Paula's knit dress had become caught up on the far buttock, the one that I thought had been the target of Robert's affection. The hem was only an inch or so higher on that side but it begged the question: Why? To me, it confirmed my suspicion. Robert had been fondling his sister's ass.

I looked at Robert and immediately knew he was aware of my gaze, where I had been looking, and why I was now looking at him. The knowing smile returned and, when Paula paused to look away to think about what she was going to say next, he smiled directly at me and flicked his eyes toward her backside as if to say, Go ahead.

I was doubly shocked. Robert seemed to be inviting me, no, encouraging me to touch his sister's ass, to let my fingers play over the swollen fullness of her dress and maybe even press into the flesh underneath, as I imagined he had done.

Robert looked away. Paula was still staring out the window. It was as if we were all waiting for something to happen. I, too, looked away and the moment passed. I experienced the pang of loss when Paula didn't renew the conversation and instead turned away from Robert to look straight out the window into the night.

"Look at the moon!" she exclaimed.

Robert and I both turned to look. I had to lean back a little because when Paula had turned away from her brother, she had moved closer to me. It was a full moon. That thought had just passed through my mind when Paula leaned back, hands reaching back to brace herself. Her right hand landed on the couch near Robert but her left landed on my upper arm. She pressed down to take some of her weight as she shifted her bottom onto the rear edge of the couch, and the top of my hand.​