Incest/Taboo Tortured Love

David -

It had been at least two years since I'd seen my mother, and two years longer than that since I'd seen my sister. Not exactly a workaholic, I had been working overseas in Scotland for the past two years. I'd been gathering research on many of the medieval castles there, not for any real historical reasons, though that was part of it. But I had been working for a fairly eccentric billionaire who having nothing better to do with his money, wanted to build an exact replica of one of the more elaborate and infamous castles still standing. My work then, was seeing to all the detail required in replicating something of this magnitude. Not that I didn't mind, he was paying me a rather nice salary to do that. But it had meant a great deal of time away from friends and extended family.

And to make things worse, it was the rainy season. Everything was always cold and damp or so it seemed, and I was more than ready to jump at any excuse just to get some time away, feel the sunshine on my face let alone see it. When the call came from my sister Sharon, it gave me the reason and excuse I'd been looking for. Initially, I thought for sure it was something really serious. The fact it was Sharon calling me told me it had to have something to do with mom. And the fact Sharon was calling me in the first place, gave it a measure of some importance.

One of the reasons I hadn't seen my sister in so long, wasn't because I didn't want to, or even could have made a point of being there whenever she came for a visit to see mom. The reality was, Sharon and I had agreed it was best not to be around one another for a while, something we'd both reluctantly agreed to do some four years ago now.

"Sharon? What's wrong?" I'd asked worriedly, "How's mom?" I then asked figuring it had to be about her, or Sharon might not have called.

"Nothing serious David," she told me. "But you know mother, unless I called you, she wasn't about to. And like I said, not really serious, but she was involved in a car accident, had her leg broken in two places, so she'll be in a cast for a while. Had a few other abrasions and scrapes, but besides the broken leg, nothing life threatening or serious. Anyway, like I said, she wasn't about to call you. So I figured I'd better, at least let you know so you didn't hear it from somebody else and get all upset about it," she stated calmly.

"Tell mom I'm catching the next flight home," I told my sister, and then asked. "Or would you rather I not?"

There was a brief hesitation. "No, she'd like that David, and...it has been a while since she's seen you, since I've seen you," she said pausing again. "It's been hard, on both of us I know, but admittedly, I've missed seeing you too."

I felt a great deal of relief in hearing that, it would be good seeing my sister again, though she put an almost immediate damper on my relief when she added. "As soon as you are here though, I'll be returning home myself. I think it would still be best that way."

It would be a long flight back to the States, and another long leg just to get back to Utah when I did. Sharon lived in California now, held a nice job at one of the Movie Studios and was in fact married to some sort of Studio Executive, though I had only met him once shortly before their wedding, and then of course again at the wedding and reception. I hadn't seen either of them ever since. As we had agreed so many years ago, feeling it best that we not, and always finding a reason or excuse to never show up around the holidays at the same time together. No one ever knew the real reason why, which was best for everyone involved or we knew, we'd both be ostracized under the circumstances.

As the plane lifted off for the long flight across the ocean, my mind drifted off back to that period in my life, in our lives really, nearly five years ago now. Five years of regret, but also a two week period of some of my fondest memories, especially during a time of stress not to mention a great deal of internal turmoil. Even as I sat there recalling it, I couldn't shake the memory of it from my mind, nor did I really want to.

Sharon had just turned twenty-one, it was a time of celebration and family togetherness. Little did any of us know at the time, just how dramatic things would be, how horribly and irrevocably they would all change in a single evening. Five years older than my sister, I for one should have known better, foreseen the ramifications of our eventual actions. But I wasn't thinking very clearly either, nor was anyone else for that matter during that time. What happened had affected us all in ways none of us could have ever imagined.

I had married my high school sweetheart just the year before. At the time, my entire life was laid out ahead of me with promises of a bright and exciting future. I had just graduated from the local university, landing a job in historical research which is where I eventually met, and eventually came to work for the man I was working for now. Sharon's twenty-first birthday was another reason for that celebration, a reason that all of us made a point of coming together and combining that with celebrating the fourth of July weekend, her birthday. At the time, mom and dad owned and lived in what to some could only be described as a small mansion. More rooms than anyone could shake a stick at for one thing, but for another, it made coming home to visit all the more enjoyable as there was plenty of space to spread out, and then some.

The party had been going on all day it seemed, with a hell of a lot more alcohol than normal, even for our family. Dad had gone out and hired a private fireworks show, something we were all looking forward to seeing as he'd spared no expense. Having the size of property we did, we were far enough and away so as not to endanger any of the neighbors, inviting many of them just to be sure, along with additional guests, family and friends. It was a hell of a turn out with well over two hundred in attendance.

As darkness neared, we were all expectantly waiting for the fireworks to begin, and they did, just not in the way any of us had ever expected or imagined they would.

"You seen dad?" Sharon had asked. I'd been looking for him myself for the last half an hour now.

"No, and I've been looking for him too," I told my sister. "He's nowhere on the grounds that's for sure."

"Then he's got to be inside." Sharon and I had gone back into the house looking for him, even stopping mom along the way, asking her if she'd seen him.

"That's funny," she said. "He and your wife came in here about a half hour ago looking for you," mom had told me, which only then made me realize I hadn't seen Gwen for quite some time myself either.

"Did you see where they went?" I asked curiously.

"Back outside," mom stated simply. "Though I thought I saw them heading over towards the garage, perhaps they thought that's where you'd be, especially as...well, you know," she grinned now looking over towards my sister.

"Of course!" I thought stupidly to myself. "Sharon's present!"

Unbeknownst to her, until now anyway, dad had gone out and bought her a new car, something of a family tradition of sorts, as he had done the same thing for me on my twenty-first birthday. I had known he was planning on bringing it out just before the fireworks were to start, by way of surprise, so I figured that that's where he was at, preparing to do so. And in doing so, had decided to show it to Gwen beforehand.

I headed out the door with Sharon following. "Hey sis, maybe you should wait here, after all, you weren't supposed to know about it," I told her, though the look on her face told me otherwise.

"Are you kidding? No way am I going to wait to see it now, what if it's something hideous? The last thing I'd want to do is stand there in shock in front of everyone, if it was!"

I had to remind myself, Sharon wasn't a little girl any more either. Hadn't been for a very, very long time. Attractive almost to a fault, her long brown hair fell well beyond her shoulders. She was long legged, something she always enjoyed showing off either in short skirts, or almost too short of shorts whenever she could get away with it. And though I hated admitting it, she also had a great pair of tits, which she always seemed to have growing up, even at such a young age.

"Suit yourself," I told her, and then headed off towards the garage area with Sharon following.

Oddly, none of the lights were on in the big six-car garage as we rounded the corner by the side of the back entry. I had heard no engines, or cars being started up either, so I knew dad hadn't as yet driven down Sharon's new car to where everyone was now impatiently waiting for things to start.

"Strange," I said turning towards my sister, just as a faint light came on. Had we not been standing near the side window, we'd have missed it. But under the circumstances, it drew us closer to the window like a beacon. Looking back, I wish now that we'd have been late, or never even gone there at all. Not that that would have changed the eventual outcome, but perhaps it would have at least delayed it from having happened on Sharon's birthday.

"What the..." I said, and then stopped dead in my tracks, unable to speak as I stared through the side window, just as Sharon was now doing. What we saw shocked us both, paralyzing the two of us momentarily. Dad was just exiting Sharon's new car, the interior lights having come on, the only source of light inside the garage. As he slid out, stepping back, it was obvious to see his exposed hard cock, Gwen, my wife, still playfully reaching for it as she half chased him out, now standing as well, topless, her breasts fully exposed, and the short skirt she was wearing, still bunched up around her waist.

"Oh my God!" Sharon exclaimed shocking me back into reality as I turned towards her, the obvious hurt clearly showing through in my face, once again turning, seeing Gwen now kneeling, gathering dads' cock inside her mouth though he pretended to urge her to go, now giving into her ministrations of his prick as they stood just inside the open door together.

It was bad enough as it was, stunned into speechlessness, immobility as Sharon and I stood there peering in, but then the sound of my mother's voice breaking the fugue as we stood there.

"Go inside," she told my sister and I sternly. "I'll deal with this myself."

Even though it was my own wife inside the garage with my father, I felt in many ways like a young small boy again, hearing the tone in my mother's voice, obeying her immediately and without question. There would be time enough for Gwen later. She would no doubt come looking for me, or head home, and wait for me there. Either way, I wasn't of a mind to see her just yet, not until I had calmed down some at least, and not until I had comforted my own sister, whose birthday celebration had suddenly come to a screeching halt.

Steeling herself, Sharon went out to inform everyone there would be no fireworks, save for those already going on inside the house. With the cat now out of the bag, and with tempers flaring all around, it came out as my soon to be ex-wife, stood holding my father's hand as he told mom he was leaving her, had fallen in love with Gwen, and she he. To add insult to injury, I also learned, he had fucked her the night before our wedding, and had been doing so on and off ever since.

With the shock of the night still hanging on us like wet blankets, dad and Gwen had gone back to our house together, a place I myself never returned to, sending someone else to collect my things once they'd all been boxed up and ready for me. Mom and dad divorced of course though it took a while for mom to get the eventual settlement she was after. The only real highlight as it turned out for me, was that dad soon after left Gwen, even before his divorce from mom was finalized, leaving her with nothing, as she had given up all her entitlements with me in the hopes of eventually marrying dad.

It was a small measure of satisfaction, especially as the nightmare was far from over.

I guess I should have seen it coming. Even after Gwen and I were married, it was never the way I'd always thought it should be. Gwen never seemed quite satisfied enough with what we had. It was something we constantly fought over, and that eventually led to a nearly non-existent sex-life, and we'd not even been married a year yet! Sharon had always been my confident and friend, far more than just being a sister to me, albeit a very close one as I had shared things with her regarding Gwen and I that I wouldn't have even shared with my best friend. And Sharon had always been the one to comfort me, to reassure me throughout all of it, that she'd never really liked Gwen, but had supported the marriage out of her love and concern towards me.

Still, I should have seen it coming. And more importantly, I should have known better too. After all, that was my job as my sister's older brother. But I failed at that too, miserably.

We had managed to get a couple of sleeping pills down mom, and after ensuring she was finally resting comfortably in her bedroom, had headed down into the den where we promptly popped open a thousand dollar bottle of wine that my father had been saving for a special occasion. We thought it was ironic that we should open it now, and did, finding a brief measure of satisfaction that he'd never ever taste it himself.

Sharon and I had polished off that one, and soon started in on another somewhat less expensive, but still equally nice bottle of wine. Both on empty stomachs. It didn't take long. Sharon and I were both soon buzzing from the affects of the booze, along with the stressful events of the evening, searching for, each in our own way, some way of alleviating the stress. Eventually turning towards humor in order to do that, though again, another mistake, one in which, neither one of us knew at the time.

It was bizarre to say the least. First starting out to laugh at the way dad had looked, his semi-erect prick flopping about the way that it had as he initially sought to exit the car with Gwen following. So we laughed about that. Then we laughed at the way she had looked, her boob-jobbed tits, which she'd insisted upon getting just a few months before the wedding. Something which, she had done against my wishes, much to my dismay, hard as rocks as she fumbled with dad, chasing him, making the whole scene look even more surreal than it already was. And then we laughed at how ironic it all was, how Sharon and I had sat sharing our own intimate secrets with one another, our mutual frustrations with partners that didn't seem to know us as well as the two of us knew one another. We laughed at how sad it was that here we were, brother and sister, and felt more intimately aware, more in tune to one another than anyone could ever be. By then, we were no longer laughing either.

Perhaps we could look back on it, I knew I often tried to, and tried in the process to convince ourselves, or at least myself, it was due to the stressful situation. Adding on top of all that, the booze we'd both consumed on an empty stomach. But the honest to God truth of the matter was, Sharon and I both knew what we were doing, even if we could have found some excuse to try and justify it later. Especially when it didn't end that same night, but continued on afterwards for the better part of a week. Like I said, I knew better. And after that first night, there were no longer any excuses I could find, or could use for what we did.

It was a short lay over and I was soon on the final leg heading home. I was nervous of course, certainly anxious at seeing my sister again as well as my own mother. Even that relationship had been strained somewhat after that night, though for reasons mom never cared to share with either one of us. Obviously the events of that particular night had far reaching affects on all of us for a very long time afterwards.

I closed my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep and pass the last few hours of the flight in peace, hopefully finding a restful sleep. But all I could see as I sat there was the image of my beautiful younger sister as she undressed herself standing before me.

One moment we were sitting there laughing, half crying. And in the next, we were kissing, kissing passionately certainly unlike any brother or sister would be doing. And even then the warning signals were going off in my head, but I didn't care. The pent up frustration, anger of the evening suddenly justifying everything, whatever morals I had, or lack thereof, flew right out the window. As did Sharon's. But even then I didn't hold her accountable either, she was just as confused, frustrated and angry as I was. And in addition to that of course, were the secrets we'd shared, the openness we had had with one another. We knew one another inside and out, we had openly and freely admitted to one another in having higher than normal sex drives, desires, and even shared fantasies. These we had shared, innocently, no matter how decadent, and sometimes perverse in nature they might have been. There was always the fail-safe, we were brother and sister. So it mattered not what we told one another, in secret, in private, we could do so without fear or repercussion from one another. It was safe to do so, for we felt and shared many of the same things, thoughts and desires.

It was a volatile cocktail coming together the way that it did. But it did, and then we did.

My hands suddenly found Sharon's breasts, becoming glued to them, just as my lips had become against her own. Perhaps in kissing her, lost in the kiss, I could forget about my hands for the moment, pretend even that they weren't doing what they were. But soon I heard her pleasured sigh, felt her nipples hard and erect as I touched them teasing them unmercifully. Then it was hands everywhere, her hands, my hands tearing at the buttons, the sound of her blouse tearing even as we both fought to get it off her. The sudden feel of exposed flesh, now barely covered by the thin support bra she was wearing. Looking down, her hard nips pressed wantonly against the material, straining, yearning to be set free. I tore at her bra, even as she did, reaching back around behind herself to undo the clasp, even as I caught the cups within my hands, yanking them away just barely as she released it. Now, twin spheres, twin beautiful full spheres of pure delight now stood before my eyes, and I bent to suckle one, and then the other.

"Oh David! David!" Sharon moaned pleasurably.

Perhaps the sound of my own name coming out of my sister's mouth should have shaken some sense into me. But it didn't, I was too far past that now for it to matter. Only the soft touch of her breasts in my hands, those hard erect nipples as my tongue pleasured them, danced upon them, fingering, rolling, and playing with them. That's all that mattered to me at the moment. Nothing else. After the heartache we had shared that evening, the ruined surprise, a car she would never drive or ever want to. Two marriages destroyed in the blink of an eye. After all that, all either of us wanted was a little simple pleasure, some release and relief from the agony and pain we had been forced to endure.

It was easy to tell myself that then. Easy to convince myself as I felt my prick harden with desire, easier still to forget Sharon was my sister for a moment, thinking only of the things she had told me, shared with me. The visions of her masturbating as often as she did, the stories we had shared with one another concerning it, spying on one another as kids, watching one another doing it, and then masturbating all over again while thinking about it.

And now, here we were adults, adults free to make our own decisions, right or wrong. Free to indulge our fantasies, desires. Right or wrong. What I then saw wasn't my sister, but a very sexy, very sensual woman as she suddenly stood. I sat, watching as she spun the skirt she'd been wearing, locating the zipper on the side, undoing it. I watched her skirt fall, as though in slow motion, seeing it as it hit the floor, her delicate feet stepping out of it. Sharon now stood before me in nothing more than the briefest of thongs, a tiny thin sliver of material still protecting the as yet un-violated sweetness of her femininity.

I reached out, my eyes locked onto hers as she stepped forward, one step and then two, suddenly standing before me as I leaned forward, my lips and mouth now sucking in and through the material of that small patch of black fabric. Even through that I could taste her, smell her, feel her. I became mad with lust for her then, yanking the thin strip aside with my fingers in order to impale her on my tongue, finding her taste intoxicating, the aroma of her arousal breathtaking as I consumed her, as I allowed myself to become consumed.

"Fuck me David, please...fuck me....fuck me...fuck me."

Sharon -

I looked at the clock on the wall. David would be landing in less than an hour, it would probably take slightly less than another hour before he arrived here. I had offered to come and pick him up from the airport, but he had declined, saying he would take a cab. I was relieved upon hearing that. I wasn't sure how the ride back with him would have been, no doubt awkward at best.

I busied myself in the kitchen preparing a light dinner for the three of us. It was inevitable that I'd eventually see David again, I couldn't exactly just disappear with me being there, and him coming home. There was no reason I could use to come up with to explain something like that away, especially to mother. And it wasn't that I didn't want to see David, I did. That...was the problem. A lot had happened between us, a lot had changed. A lot...had changed us.

I loved David a lot. Perhaps too much. But there was also a lot he didn't know, would probably never understand. Too much to try and explain and make any sense of, especially now. I had come to accept much of it, had come to accept much about myself, but I wasn't sure David could ever do that, and I wasn't about to destroy the last bit of closeness we might still have and share together. Seeing him would be nice, and I looked forward to doing so. But I also knew that under the circumstances, I would soon leave and head back to California. It really was for the best after all.

Even now after all this time, I could close my eyes and see him then just as though it was yesterday. The memory, vision really...that had stayed with me nearly every waking hour since that time together so long ago now. I could still feel the way his prick felt when it first slid inside me. The incredible sensation of my own brother's cock splitting my femininity in what could only be described as unbridled lust, a lust we both shared and enjoyed together.

I couldn't even compare David to my husband Jack. It would have been like trying to compare apples to oranges. The fact that Jack had a slightly larger dick wasn't part of the equation either. Jack fucked my cunt, David made love to me. What made it even more difficult, especially after everything that had happened, was the discovery that my own husband had also been sleeping around with several of his "personal assistants", and had been ever since we'd gotten married. Perhaps it was because of everything that had happened to our family already that I chose to ignore it, pretend it wasn't happening. But all that did was serve the desire and unfulfilled need I still had towards my own brother. Going back to California, back to my own unfaithful husband was hard enough. Being around David, especially as vulnerable as I now was, would be harder still.

Even as I stood in the kitchen cutting up vegetables preparing one of David's favorite dishes, I found myself fantasizing about him. I allowed myself this indulgence, only because I knew I would never act on it again. Couldn't act on it for the fear of what it would do, what he would learn, secrets I now had and had to keep from him. Something we had never done before. But I allowed myself this brief bit of pleasure, simply because it had become for me my only release, my only real joy and satisfaction.

And, just as I always did, I fought with the turmoil of my desires for a moment. Finally shooing them away, at least long enough to enjoy myself. The guilt of having done so to be dealt with later, also just like I always did. Just thinking about David, I felt the pool of liquid already gathering between my legs. My shorts just loose enough to allow my hand to slip beneath the waistband as I stood next to the kitchen counter, one hand on it for support, the other now fingering the wet sticky furrow of my slit as I stood there remembering.

Those incredible days, nights that had followed the first. Over and over again, I relived each and every one of them, savoring those moments like a fine wine, especially one in particular, though it was that single moment perhaps that once again changed things and caused the eventual separation between us. Something I would set aside and again deal with later. But for now, it was the memory and thrill of that moment.

I undid the top button of my shorts allowing my hand and fingers even freer access. The need to masturbate stronger than ever, even the decadence of doing so here adding to the overall pleasure of doing so. The memory of going into David's room that night as he lay sleeping, crawling into bed with him naked, and looking down in the dim moon light that filled the room. Seeing his prick, even flaccid as it then was, exciting to me as I knelt beside him, taking it into my mouth, slowly, softly sucking it. Stroking my pussy now, my fingers twiddling the surface of my hard clit, I moaned audibly, enjoying the sound of my own pleasured sigh. David's cock slowly hardening inside my mouth as he gradually came awake. His brief struggle, his own moral fight perhaps, which my sucking lips soon made him succumb to. God how I loved sucking my brother's prick! Feeling it stiffen so wonderfully, so fully, tasting his flesh, playfully squeezing out the droplets of his lubrications, and then applying them to my own nipples. The memory of how that felt, the slickness of his pearly drops teasing my hardened flesh, David then licking them sucking them as I offered them up to him before diving back down on to his cock repeating the process.

Feeling David's pleasure, knowing that I was bringing him pleasure so exciting to me. Even in doing so, I too felt a series of what could only be described as mini-climaxes. So lost in the erotic sensuality of it, I hadn't heard nor was immediately aware of my mother's presence. How long she had stood there in the doorway watching us, though obviously long enough. At first startled to see her standing there, backlit by the hallway light, David's climax even then already beginning, my own ongoing, yet somehow escalating even as I felt the first spurt of his semen beginning to fill my mouth. Had there been any other reaction, perhaps my own would have been different as well. But there stood mom, her nightgown pulled up at the hem, her hand furiously working itself between her legs, her free hand cupping and massaging one of her breasts through the thin wispy material of her nightgown.

It was a surreal moment in time. My thoughts separated going off in two different directions at once. David's lovely hard prick squirting his pleasure, his deep-throated moan of delight accompanying, and thus holding me to my actions. My confusion, thought felt only for a moment, soon giving way to the added eroticism of seeing mom standing there masturbating, wondering even as she was, was she aware that I knew she was? Then looking up, catching her eye to eye even as I knelt swallowing David's cream, licking my lips, seeing the look on her face as she silently orgasmed, seeing her own pleasure as she did so. Seconds later, seeing her as she stepped back once again out of sight, silently as though having been only an apparition. David, never even aware that she had been.

As always, I felt my climax begin, that moment in time forever frozen in memory, the decadently delicious experience somehow enhancing my release. I grabbed on to the kitchen counter, feeling my knees weaken as the ripples of pleasure began to surge up and down my entire body. God it felt good, the intensity as great then as it had ever been, even the smells, the taste of David's spunk rolling around inside my mouth as I swallowed it, standing there looking up, licking my lips, seeing the pleasured orgasmic look on my own mother's face just before she stepped away, back into the shadows.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Still trembling, the aftershocks of my fingered climax as I stood gripping the counter, then the "thump" upstairs from my mother's room coming through the ceiling above me, alerting me she was once again getting out of bed without any help.

"Damn it mother!" I said more to myself, racing out of the kitchen and then up the stairs towards her bedroom.

I heard her take three more hops towards her bathroom before I arrived, standing in the doorway, once again repeating the words I had spoken earlier to myself. "Damn it mother! You know you're not supposed to be doing that, and I told you to call me if you needed help getting into the bathroom!"

She had taken yet another hop, once again pausing, balancing on her one good leg before I could reach her.

"You worry too much," she said simply. "One more hop and I would have been there," she added a bit more sheepishly, though I could see by the look in her face she was somewhat grateful for the added support as I placed her arm around my shoulder, helping her step in through the door into the bathroom.

"At the very least, you should have used your crutches!" I admonished her.

"You know how much I hate having to use those," she told me. "And besides...it's not that far anyway!"

"It would be if you ended up falling over and breaking your other leg, or even worse, your neck!" I stated as I helped her to sit down on the toilet seat. Once again she merely shrugged me off however.

"I knew you were busy in the kitchen," she offered. "And I wanted to come in and wash up, David's plane is due in any time now."

Just the mere mention of his name sent additional tingles through my groin, the lubrications of my recent spending still lingering as a reminder to the orgasm I'd most recently had.

"But as long as you are here..." she left off saying as she pulled the simple night shift she was wearing up and over her head. "You can at least help me get in the tub to clean up before he gets here."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just wash up a little?" I asked.

"No! I stink, and am in need of a bath!" Mom said. "So, grab the plastic garbage bag and the duct tape," she instructed, which we'd done once before.

Seeing her naked was again another reminder. Mom was still very beautiful, her breasts full, heavy against her chest as I eased her down into the tub. Though she had a slight paunch, which I knew she was self conscious about, there was something sexy about it, giving her a sensual maturity that was hard for her to understand, even though I had actually tried explaining it to her the last time we had done this. But that wasn't the only thing that my eyes were drawn to either. And it was impossible for them not to be.

Mother had of course balanced her legs on the rim of the tub thus keeping them out of the water, especially her casted leg as I held it and began wrapping it up in the garbage bag in order to keep it from getting wet. Displayed as she was, her pink splint was obviously noticeable, and the fact that she had shaved it, and had done so for years never failed to surprise me as I glanced towards it, though trying not to make it too noticeable as I did. Unlike my own pussy, mom's lips were a bit fuller, thicker, and protruded a bit more than mine did. But I had noticed something else as well the first time I had seen it, her clit was twice the size of my own, a tiny knot the size of my pinky-finger tip, or so it seemed anyway. And I once again remembered the image of her standing in the doorway of David's bedroom as she stood there rubbing it.

I finished wrapping up her leg and stood. "You want me to help wash you?" I asked.

"No...thank you. I think I can manage that well enough by myself," she said smiling. And besides, I'd just like to lay here and relax for a while."

I reached over to turn the water off.

"No, leave it...and in fact, unplug the tub, just let in run, it won't fill up any higher that way, and the water will stay warmer for a lot longer. I'll call you when I'm ready for you to help me out."

"Well, don't dilly-dally too long mother, David should be here in a little over an hour from now," I reminded her. But even as I spoke the words, looking at her laying there in the water the way she was, reminded me of another time, days later after David had left. I turned, heading out of the bathroom with the image of that now firmly in my mind once again too.

I nearly closed the door, shutting it, but then turned leaving it open partially. "I'll leave this open so I can hear you better when you call. And don't you dare try getting out by yourself either mother!"

She didn't really answer, just waving me away with the flip of her hand, her eyes closed. I left the door ajar, and then headed out through her bedroom, deciding to make a quick stop at the linen closet for some fresh bath towels. Once I'd retrieved them, I headed back into the bedroom intending to take them in, but the sound of something else froze me in place just before I had pushed open the door. Stopping, I peered into the room without making any sound. From where I stood, I knew she couldn't see me. Her head was too far down inside the tub to see me standing in the doorway, her legs were still balanced, positioned over the edge of the tub, but she had managed to reposition herself slightly, just enough that within seconds I realized what she had done...was now doing.

Fascinated, I stood there in the doorway peeking in, watching the water from the faucet as it pounded directly down against her cunt. I could hear her moaning, the sighs of pleasure very distinct, even the slight thrashing of her body, as she slowly rotated her pelvis as though thrusting against an imaginary prick as it fucked her was lewdly stimulating to me as I stood there. I had only a short time ago climaxed myself, and yet within seconds, found myself aroused as I stood there observing her, once again the image of mom standing in the doorway as she had observed me sucking her son, my brother. But even that image wasn't the only one that now coursed through my mind once again as I relieved and remembered another. I fought briefly through the barrier of guilt, though only for a moment or two this time before giving into the urge. And this time, I didn't just stand with my hand down the front of my shorts. This time, I removed everything completely, letting them drop to the floor beneath me, standing naked now. Once again my hand finding the pleasure of my sex, my legs spread a bit further apart granting my fingers even easier access. Imagining as I did, the hardness of mother's clit, how it must look, how it must have felt as the water beat against it, something I had very often done myself, yet still wondered if it felt the same way to her as it did to me.

"Oh God! Oh God!" Mom moaned pleasurably, and I heard my own softened sigh of pleasure escape my lips as I watched, fingered, and then pat-slapped my mound and clit, fingering my nipples, now pulling on them and twisting them. I would of course berate myself later for this, I would chastise and deal with the guilt of having done so, along with the guilt of other things as well. I always did, probably always would. But it was the price I was more than willing to pay for the pure ecstasy and pleasure I was now feeling and experiencing, and would no doubt, do so again.

Hearing the water slap a bit more than it had been, I could tell just by that, mother was humping herself even more forcefully against the pounding spray as it fell against her cunt. Added to that, her longer, deeper moans than seemed to come more frequently, the pant of ecstasy's approach, knowing as I heard it, she was on the verge of orgasm. Just that was enough to race my own towards completion as well, feeling the first delightful tingles of pleasure begin to seize my clit, which I now rubbed more directly, furiously with my fingertip. Standing, legs spread, one hand spreading my lips, further exposing my clit as I now pinched it, pulled it, and jerked it off like a miniature prick, a flash back again for a millisecond, the drive to the airport to see David off, giving him a sad, almost farewell hand-job there in the car on the way.

"Oh fuck David! David! David!" I heard mother suddenly cry out.

And I stood there, the orgasmic bliss I'd begun to feel suddenly wavering, shimmering away like a mirage in the desert, had I heard correctly? Had I actually spoken my brother's name out as I came, or had it indeed been she who had spoken it. For a moment, I was confused as to which one of us actually had. But then realized the truth of it, and stood shocked, even more so than I had been before.

Grabbing my discarded clothing, I raced naked back down to the kitchen area before dressing. Guessing as I did so that mom would first collect herself to some degree, and then finish washing before calling me back upstairs to help her out of the tub and to dress. Still shaken by what I had heard, I could only wonder at it. And then decided it was nothing more than an anguished relief of stress, through masturbation, the thought of David's finally coming home again after such a long absence as being the only thing that really made any sense. The fact I had reacted to it the way that I had, yet another reminder to my own horrible secret, guilt and desires that I still had, still held, and probably always would.

Once again the memory of driving with David to the airport. The call he'd received, an opportunity coming at the most inopportune of times, though in hindsight now, perhaps a much needed one, for us all. He had jumped at it of course. A chance to get away, collect himself, something we had all needed back then, though I for one hadn't realized it. Only afterwards, only after David had gotten on the plane and I had returned did events lead me to the conclusion that I needed to stay away from him, and he me until I had found a way to deal with the demons and ghosts that now haunted me.

Even he had fought initially with my fumbling, but I hadn't taken no for an answer. My own selfish thoughts, desires and needs overcoming reason. He had finally relented of course, he always had, though I now looked back on that with regret. He was my own brother, yet I hadn't looked at him in that way, forgetting everything, somehow overlooking that, pretending it wasn't so, just to satisfy my own personal needs.

Too risky to actually suck him off while he drove, we had both settled instead for the easy long slow hand-job I had given him during the drive. Nearing the entrance to the airport, he had slowed the car, just long enough to allow me to lift my bra, baring my tits, and then leaning forward just enough to watch and thus catch my brother's spunk as he spurted delightfully, deliciously against my aroused flesh. I had seen him to the gate, his cream still clinging to my tits, the aroma of his funk filling my nostrils, my cunt heated, soaked, leaking with its own desire which I wouldn't even bother waiting to take care of during the drive home. Instead, locking myself in the bathroom stall at the airport after having seen him board the plane. Finger-fucking myself furiously only then, licking my still sticky breasts, tasting for what would be the last time, my brother's pearly essence.

"Sharon?"

I heard mom calling me from the bathroom. It was time to help her get out, to dress, and then wait with me as the two of us waited for David to arrive home once again. Something I both looked forward to, as well as dreaded simultaneously. How mom was dealing with it was something I couldn't understand, any more than I am sure she could understand, accept, or know about me either. Too many secrets, too many changes, too many unspeakable desires that could ever mend or heal the wounds that had come between the three of us. Perhaps in time they would, but it was still too soon for that. Far too soon for that now.

"Coming mother!" I called out as I slowly made my way back up the stairs.

Mom's face was still flushed as I helped her out of the tub, dried, and then helped her to dress. As I did, I couldn't help but wonder if mine was too, stealing a glance in the mirror, and seeing that it was.

"It's been a long time, too long," Mom said out of the blue. For a moment, I wasn't sure what she was referring too.

"What?"

She looked at me, saw the confused expression on my face, and realized my mind had been elsewhere.

"Long time for that too," she said, but turned her face away slipping a fresh shift on over herself, then grabbing the crutches I had brought into the bathroom with me rather than hopping, or leaning on me the way she had coming in here.

This time I didn't reply, simply looking at her, wondering if she had alluded to what it sounded like she had. But I wasn't about to go there either just in case she hadn't been.

"Images! Images! Images!" I found myself thinking, looking at her as mom crawled up into her bed. I stood at the end of the bed watching her, watching as she plumped up the pillows behind her in order to sit up, and though one leg was now in a cast, she sat arranging things, her legs bent at the knee slightly parted. Almost identical to the image I recalled the night after David had left. For a moment, I saw her now as I had then, shaking the thought off temporarily. "You need anything else?"

"No, I'm fine for the moment at least, but let me know as soon he gets here," mom told me.

I laughed. "Hell mother, you'll probably know it before I do, and be downstairs greeting him at the door even." She did smile at that.

"Maybe so, but just in case I don't..."

"You know that I will," I said turning and then walking out of the room once again heading back down the stairs, though the previous memory, images once again returned even as I did so.

It had been the second night after David had left. And just like David and I had done, mother and I had proceeded to sample several bottles of my father's private wine collection. Not much of a drinker, she had gotten pretty loopy just as I had. Neither one of us feeling much pain, which was the whole point of course, but suffering in our own unique little ways, sharing it together, though perhaps not quite thinking about the same exact things while we did.

We had finally stumbled up to the bedrooms together, helping mom into bed where I was sure she would literally pass out shortly. Finally getting her undressed, she had refused to let me help her on with one of her nightgowns, so I had left her naked, tucking the sheets and blankets up and around her, leaving on the bedside lamp just in case she needed to tear off into her bathroom to throw up. Like I said, mom wasn't much of a drinker, so I was half expecting that.

I had stumbled back to my own room to undress before collapsing into bed myself, and then needing to pee. I did so, once again passing by mother's bedroom on my way to the separate shared bathroom. As I came near her room however, I could hear sounds and thought for a moment that she was crying, understandably so, especially after everything we had all been through. Stepping in through the door, I fully expected to comfort her, but was totally unprepared for what I then saw. Mom was sitting up in her bed, pillows propped behind her comfortably. Her legs spread, obscenely so, but even more wickedly, something I had never dreamed of, or considered her really doing before. What I then saw, long before she saw me standing there mouth agape, was her shoving in what appeared to be a rather large double-ended dildo. Half of it obviously inside her, mom holding onto the other half, fucking herself with it, eyes closed and moaning audibly.

"Oh my God...I'm, I'm sorry!" I had blubbered, though in truth had I merely stepped back out of the room, she might not have known I had even been there. I raced back to my own room, my head buzzing from a combination of the booze we'd consumed as well as the erotic display I had just witnessed. Something else that I now fought with, as it had indeed been an erotic sight to have seen. I sat there in disbelief for a moment, visualizing it, though coming to reason that she was fairly intoxicated, and that often, as had been the case for myself, inhibitions seemed to fly right out the window whenever I had been. So must have been the case for mom, openly masturbating, abusing herself the way she had been for some sense of relief, some tortured need that had gone too long unfulfilled.

"Sharon?"

I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't seen her come in, hearing the sound of my name I looked up, watched as mom stumbled over towards the bed, weirdly, still carrying the obscene vulgar looking dildo in her hand as she half sat, half fell over me on the bed.

"Mom?"

"Oh God baby, I'm sorry...couldn't help it, forgive me, forgive me," she pleaded over and over. In my mind, she was delirious, drunk yes, but obviously horny and aroused, a state that I hadn't seen her in before, not like this anyway, and was at a loss as to what to do about it, or her for that matter.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," I stated simply, finally easing her onto her back next to me on the bed, seizing in hand half of the rubber dildo she still held onto herself, though my intention had been to take it away, and set it aside on the dresser. To my surprise, she didn't let go, almost fighting me for it instead.

"Please..." she half cried. "Please..."

"Please what?" I asked bewildered.

Now she was crying, but she didn't let up. "Forgive me baby, forgive me, but fuck me with it...I need you to fuck me...make me cum so I can go to sleep, so I can finally got to sleep," she half slurred.

Only then did she release her half of the fake prick we both held as though having been engaged in a tug-of-war with it, which I had just won, though she had given it up. I nearly set it aside on the dresser just as I'd planned in the first place, until she looked at me pleadingly and said it again.

"Please Sharon, I need to be fucked, please!"​