Misc. Erotica Taboo Family Crusoe

My family had been planning the trip to Bali for months. My two older stepsisters were the ones who had insisted on it, and my stepmom had championed their cause. They sent my dad and me non-stop Instagram posts from the beaches of Bali, wind sailing videos. In the case of my two stepsisters who never failed to find a reason to tease me, they would each DM me pics of hot girls in bikinis on Bali beaches with some joke about how I could only wish. Dad didn't want to go, insisting they stay locally for the trip, so he could still golf and keep up with his buddies. Eventually, my sisters and Mom wore him down, and he agreed, although insisting that my stepmom buy the tickets with her own money.

We packed for the trip and were stuffing our luggage into the rental van when my dad got a call from work about an ‘emergency’ at his plant. He and my stepmom got into a fight, there in the driveway, just another in a long succession of loud shouting matches that my sisters and I silently endured. Eventually screaming that she was done with him and everything, but there was no way she was missing this trip. Mom climbed into the car, telling us if we weren't on board in the next minute, she would leave us behind.

My dad had the uncomfortable air of a man caught out in a lie, as he insisted the emergency was real and that after the weekend, he would get a ticket and be at the resort in Bali before we knew it.

“Don’t bother!” My stepmom called, “And I expect you out of my house by the time we return! Jason, get in the van, there is no way we are going without you,” her smile was sweet as she glanced to me and then it curdled as she looked at my dad.

“You can move back into your apartment on the golf course. Jason will stay with us till he finishes college,” and as I climbed into the back of the van with an almost apologetic look to my dad, I noticed he wasn’t even paying attention to me. Same as always, I thought.

“I mean,” the man said, not entirely masking the surprised pleasure in his voice, “If that’s what you really want…”

"Yea, sure," Mom said, as a tear tracked its way down one cheek, then with a muttered oath she sped off. My sisters and I glanced from one to another, awkward but not in the least surprised that Mom and Dad had broken up. The writing had been on the walls for years.

“Thanks,” I said finally, feeling especially awkward, “for letting me still come with you guys.”

“Shut up, Jason,” my oldest sister Olivia said, “of course you aren’t going anywhere, you’re family.”

“He’s not real family!” Mia said with a teasing smile.

"Mia," my mom said, and her tone was enough to quiet the bubbly blond. She drove to the airport, her face calm and focused once more, and I couldn't help but admire her composure. Even in the dissolution of her marriage, she was the coolest and most relaxed in the room. Mom was a powerful attorney, the first partner in her firm, and brought in more clients than all the others combined. That's why she could say dad had to leave her house because the truth was, it was. Dad was an attorney as well, in a rival firm, but he made far less in fees than she did for the past few years. That fact was a major source of conflict for them.

“Let’s just have ourselves a great time,” Mom said as she pulled onto the highway, “we can worry about all the rest when we get back. I know I’m going to try and put it far out of my mind.”

“Who knows Mom,” Mia said with her customary good cheer, “Maybe you will meet someone!”

“That,” Mom said firmly, “will be the last thing on my mind.”

“Turn off on Exit 121 Mom,” Olivia said as she glanced at her phone and pointed to the upcoming exit, “There is an accident ahead that we can avoid.” Always the practical one, my oldest sister, was twenty-five and had already begun her law career, following in Mom’s footsteps.

We got to the airport with time to spare, thanks to Olivia’s flawless directions, and soon were through security and waiting in the lounge. The four of us drew stares as we made our way through the terminal, or rather I should say mom and my sisters did. They draw stares wherever we go, and I have just learned to deal with it, ever since they came into my life.

My dad remarried just a year after my mom passed away when I was twelve, and to be honest; he was never really the same after her passing. He drank a lot and spent more time on the golf course, or in a bar, than he did at work and over the years had lost a lot of clients and status at his offices. All the while the young paralegal he’d married, got her law degree and proved to be a sharp and diligent attorney, making a name for herself in the city and moving us into a beautiful new house uptown. That made things even worse between her and my dad. He never could deal with her being more successful than him. My stepmom and I had grown closer over the past couple of years as my dad grew more distant from her, and she often came to me when she was arguing with him. Talking it out with me while she drank a glass or two of wine, letting me have the occasional sip.

My sisters were each a few years older, and that gap had been massive when we were younger. They had treated me like a baby and still saw me that way, even though I now stood over six feet tall and could pick each up in an arm and run a half-mile. Neither of them noticed that I'd grown, and I couldn't do anything but notice the two of them. Having two such gorgeous creatures in my house when I grew into a teenager; no strike that, three beautiful women, was trying to a horny eighteen-year-old boy.

Mia is blond and bubbly, with wide hips that taper to a narrow waist, thick thighs, and big heavy breasts. She is the center of every party, having been voted best smile, best hair, biggest flirt, and a half dozen other similar awards when she graduated high school.

Olivia is almost her opposite, the epitome of poise and class. She is tall and elegant with long dark hair that always shines and shimmers as if it's filled with some inner energy of its own. Olivia has the face of a goddess, high cheekbones, and smooth perfect skin. I have never seen a woman who could wear a dress better than her, or with legs made more for high heels and a strut.

Mom is like a mix of the two girls. She is tall and elegant perfection, with massive breasts, slim hips, and slender, elegant legs. Her hair is big and bold, dark brown with chunks of blond highlights throughout. She always dressed in expensive and sleek business attire unless she was lounging around the house, in which case, she often wore yoga pants and tight shirts. To say I had been obsessed with her perfect MILF body, would be an understatement. But since my freshman year at college, I got past those old desires. Over the year’s I’d had a couple of girlfriends, being a star soccer player definitely had its advantages.

Finally, we were able to board, my sisters sitting together in the seat behind us, and my mom and me in the emergency aisle. I put my noise-canceling headphones on as soon as we boarded, and once we were up and flying high, I got out my laptop and fired up a couple of movies I had downloaded. My stepmom had pulled out a book, opened the window shade, and began reading some trash romance.

They had just served the dinner course when the first wave of turbulence hit. Just small tremors that I didn’t even notice, but they came again a few minutes later, just a touch stronger, then again. The light came on, and I glanced up, happening to be in the aisle seat and saw the flight attendant walking hurriedly up to the front of the plane. And then knock and open the cabin door. Inside the cabin was chaos as two men moved around, and red lights flashed everywhere.

"Mom," I said, turning to look at her, the alarm just beginning to grow in me, "make sure you buckle up," turning to look behind the seats I saw Mia and Olivia looking at me curiously, "put your belts on."

Just then, there was a loud WHOMP sound, and the plane dropped what felt like hundreds of feet. I could feel my stomach in my throat and fear clawing at my mind, then the plane stopped its falling, shuddering and shaking in hectic turbulence. The cabin was chaos with people screaming and crying. Many had been tossed from not having their belts on, and one poor old woman spilled out of the bathroom, the door breaking before her prodigious weight.

“Jason…” The sound of panic in my mom’s voice caused me to turn, and when I did, I felt my life flash before my eyes. Out her window was the broken stub of a wing with a burning fireball of an engine streaming black smoke out behind us and angling upwards.

Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I felt my preparation and training kick in. Weird as it may sound, I had practiced for a situation very much like this with my troupe. Three other Eagle Scouts and I had simulated several different types of wrecked vehicles and how one might survive in those initial critical moments.

My hands flew as I undid my seat buckle and stood up, the plane rocking under me, but I was able to keep my balance easily, with a low wide stance. I spun and tore the cushion from under my seat, shoving it into my mom’s hands as she stared at me, stunned.

"Jason, put your belt on this-," she began to say sternly, as others screamed and scrambled in their seats.

“Wrap your arms around it!” I screamed at her, knowing it would offend her, but also knowing only the scream would cut through the rush of adrenaline and shock affecting her and my sisters. Both of whom alternated almost moment to moment between fear and shock at my actions, as I scrambled into their row and tore cushions free from each of their seats and shoved them into the girl’s hands.

Just then, the lights shut off in the cabin, and the plane dropped once more. I crashed against the ceiling and came down hard on the backrest of my seat. Ignoring the pain in my hip, I tore the face masks that had just fallen out of the ceiling from my mom and sisters’ hands, tearing mine free as well.

“Hey!” Mia cried.

“Jason! What’s gotten into you!” Mom yelled, her face confused and fearful.

Only Olivia watched me, her eyes keen, interest more powerful than her fear. The image of her face, so composed and calmly analyzing everything that was going on while chaos swarmed all around her, was arresting, and I found a new respect for her. My observations didn’t halt the movements of my hands as they quickly wove the durable plastic straps together into a long chain. Quick as a whip, I looped the braided plastic cord over, first Mia’s, and then Olivia’s hands.

I threw myself into the seat and managed to clamp the buckle in place just as I felt the plane sliding sideways, a tearing sound coming from outside the plane, and the captain came screaming on the loudspeaker.

“Brace! Dear god brace for impact! Brace for-!”

I had the third loop over my mom’s wrist and was just about to slip it over my hand when everything seemed to happen at once. The scream of metal tearing like paper overrode all other sounds for one brief moment, then my head was smashing into the back of my seat, neck wrenching, and then I was thrown to the side as the world spun.​